#maybe a few years down the line someone will find this and be like sick idea bro you should do this
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stars-and-guts · 2 years ago
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if i were to hypothetically make a blog about my songwriting and poetry should it be emo/scene themed or liminal space themed
thats a weird question but i dont want to make too many blogs bc im still getting the hang of tumblr- so id love to have a combination blog thats either
a. scene and emo reblogs, theme, etc. the rawest rawr xd energy. flashing lights death. and all my text posts are about my songwriting bc i write the most mentally ill shit
b. liminal space reblogs, theme, etc. reality is gone. are you lost young lad you shouldnt be here. all my text posts are snippets of my songwriting in this surreal formatting bc i write the most mentally ill shit
i expect no one to answer this and i shall figure this out on my own at some point
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hannahbarberra162 · 2 months ago
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Emperor's Prize (Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader) Part 2
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18+ MDNI on Ao3
Seek medical attention for infected bite wounds.
The first chapter
The next chapter
Shanks POV
Hongo tilted his head to the side while contemplating your last statement. His mouth opened and closed before asking  “Captain, may I speak to you outside for a moment?” Shanks nodded, using his thumb to wipe away the tear tracking down the Omega’s face.
“Stay here, OK? I’ll be just outside the door,” Shanks said in your ear quietly, his stubble scraping against your cheek and earning him a shiver from you. Picking you off his lap with ease, Shanks set the Omega down on the unmade bed. You were still steadfastly looking down at your feet and avoiding eye contact with either Hongo or himself. Shanks stood up and followed the doctor, opening and shutting the cabin door gently behind him to avoid startling you. 
“Are you keeping her?” the doctor asked, letting out the breath he’d been holding.
Shanks hadn’t given it much thought in the short time he’d had the Omega on his ship. If Shanks was a better man, he could let her go back on suppressants while living in anonymity on a protected island. She’d made it years without being detected and likely could go back to doing the same. 
Or he could sell her and make a ton of Berri, maybe even equal to his bounty. This idea was dismissed as the thought of turning her over to someone who would traumatize her just as badly - or maybe worse - turned his stomach. Besides, the islands he protected were perfectly happy to supply him with whatever the crew needed. The Red Force was welcomed all over the Grand Line, Shanks had no need for more money.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” Shanks said, rubbing his goatee. The idea to keep the Omega for himself had growing appeal. Your scent had started to perfume the cabin and it was taking everything in Shanks not to rub his nose on your scent glands. You had a subtle scent of lily of the valley and cedar that Shanks found incredibly appealing. With his status, power, and crew he could keep you safe from anyone else who would seek to have you. 
“Well, you’d better decide quickly. If you’re not keeping her, we need to get her off the ship immediately.”
“How much time do we have?” Shanks asked, peeking back in on your still form again. If he didn’t see you breathing and blinking, he would have thought you a statue.
“Only four to five days, and that’s if your presence around her doesn’t initiate her heat sooner which it likely will. If you’re not keeping her, we gotta put her in the infirmary, brig, or somewhere where your and Beckman’s scent is weak.” The mention of Beckman set Shanks on edge, surprising both himself and the doctor. He’d been friends with Beckman for over twenty years and this was the first time he’d ever felt anything so negative towards the man.
“How much do you know about Omegas?” 
Shanks hummed as he recalled that he had read a few books over the years, but hadn’t taken a particular interest in Omegas. He didn’t think he’d ever find one and he wouldn’t want to spend a single Berri on buying one through the slave trade. He’d bedded hundreds of Betas and even a few Alphas which had suited him just fine. “I know a little but not all that much truthfully,” he stated while looking at you through the circular window in the cabin door. You hadn’t moved an inch, your gaze still trained on the floor, sitting in the exact position Shanks had left you in. He could only imagine what Kid had done to you to train you to such a sick level of obedience. 
“We’ve got to get to an island and dock for the duration otherwise everyone’s gonna be miserable, especially Beckman. You’re not gonna want anyone else around her either.” 
“How do you know she’s going to be in heat?” Shanks asked, genuinely curious.
Hongo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Doctor isn’t just a title, I went to a real medical school. I learned about all this and we need to get her ready. If this is her first heat like she’s saying it will be, it’s going to be intense.”
“What does that mean exactly? What do we need to do for her?” Shanks’s practical knowledge about heat cycles left something to be desired. He’d often glossed over those sections in manuscripts under the assumption that it would never apply to his situation. 
Hongo rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “If you’re keeping her, there’s a lot we need to do. First, she must bathe so I can tend to her wounds. After that, you’ll have to scent her. If you want the heat to go as smoothly as it can we need to erase any scent left from Kid and replace it with yours. That way she’s not searching for her old mate, even if they had a….bad relationship. We’ll need to get her soft, clean, unscented linens and blankets so she can make her nest. She needs to eat up - heats use a lot of the Omega’s reserves and she doesn’t have that much left. We need -”
Shanks cut off Hongo with a wave of his hand. “One thing at a time. First, let’s bathe her.” 
“After the bath, we’re gonna need Beckman,” Hongo stated.
“Beckman? Why?” Shanks was an Alpha too and stronger besides. Anything Beckman could do, Shanks could do better unless it took two arms. Belatedly, Shanks realized his feelings were the precursor to jealousy. He threw Hongo a frown before he carried on speaking in a sullen tone, “She doesn’t need him.”. 
“I’m gonna have to clean and dress her wounds,” Hongo explained.
“So? What does that have to do with him?”
“He’s gonna keep you from punching or trying to fight me. You’re not going to like watching me tend to her or hurt her, no matter if it's for her own good.” Shanks rolled his eyes at the doctor’s words.
“Pffff. It’s not gonna be like that, I can control myself. It’s not like she’s my mate,” Shanks scoffed.
“I’m getting Beckman,” Hongo stated, unmoved by Shanks’s self assuredness.
Your POV
You heard the Captain and doctor talking outside of the door but were lost in your own thoughts. You’d been off your homemade suppressants for a while but you had pointedly avoided thinking about the possibility of going through heat. You had chalked your rising temperature up to your wounds causing you to be feverish. Nuzzling into the cloak, you inhaled Shanks’s scent deep into your lungs. The velvety material and clean smell made you feel peaceful to the point of being a little sleepy. You ached to lay back on the comfortable looking bed and curl up into a ball but he hadn’t given you permission to. You wanted to pass and show that you could obey in case this was a test. Kid liked to test the limits of your obedience in creative ways and you’d learned your lessons the hard way. He would leave food out when you were hungry and punish you if you ate it, or leave out blankets when he’d told you to remain naked and enter his cabin randomly. So you sat even though you were bone achingly tired.
You tried to look about your surroundings surreptitiously while you waited. The wooden cabin was mostly tidy but well lived in. Clothes were piled on a lounge chair in the corner, a writing desk had letters, maps, and an inkwell on top, and a small bookshelf held a few tomes. A dark colored chest had more linens poking out of the corner while the bed you were perched upon was large and covered in fuzzy sheets and piled with blankets and pillows. You didn’t see any hooks or chains hanging from the walls, maybe the Alpha wasn’t going to shackle you to the bed. The room had the aroma of the Alpha and gave off the feeling of coziness, of snuggling under blankets on a cold night. It felt….homey.
The door opened and Shanks reappeared without the doctor. Watching the Emperor approach, you didn’t want to imagine his displeasure at finding you asleep on the bed when he hadn’t allowed it. Kid’s power was mind boggling to you and the Emperor had swatted him away like a fly. You would do anything to remain on the Emperor’s good side even if it was to your own detriment. You heard him approaching you and watched his sandaled feet stop in front of you. He didn’t stoop down to catch your gaze but you felt his hand land at the top of your hair. You winced, remembering all the times it had been pulled in the past. No pain came as Shanks just patted you and rubbed the strands of your dirty hair between his fingers.
“Hongo has to treat your wounds. We need to get you clean first though, yeah? And take these off too,” Shanks’ fingers left your hair as he spoke. He reached down into the cloak and pulled on the chain between the cuffs you were still wearing. Feeling the bed dip next to you, Shanks pulled one of the cuffs closer to his face to inspect the manacle. “Where’s the lock? They’re not welded shut,” Shanks noted. 
“Magnetic,” you said in your hoarse voice. Shanks’s face soured as he traced the smooth metal of the handcuff with his thumb.
“Ah.” Shanks seemed to mull your response over for a few moments before he commanded you to close your eyes. You complied immediately and heard crunching as the metal of your cuff fell off your wrists. You desperately wanted to see how the Emperor had gotten them off but you were waiting for his command. A warm and calloused hand rubbed your bruised wrist where the metal had been previously. “You can open them again,” Shanks said softly, running his thumb over your pulse. There were no weapons around and the Emperor’s sword was still sheathed within the scabbard. You could only guess the power he’d used to remove them. 
The door swung open and three men appeared, two carrying a metal tub filled with steaming water and the third with a bucket with toiletries. Shanks stood to put himself between you and the crew members, blocking them from your view. “Thanks, guys, just put it over there,” the Emperor requested, gesturing to the largest open area of the cabin. The men followed their Captain’s request carefully but a little water sloshed on the floor. Alarm shot through you at the sight of the water on the floor, and you hoped the Captain didn’t blame you or punish you for it. You nearly went to clean it but you hadn’t been told to leave the bed and the new men were still in the room.
“Is it time for introductions? I’m Lime -” one of the men began speaking in your direction.
“Ah, not now. Maybe later Lime Juice, sorry. Thanks for bringing the tub,” the Emperor said with genuine praise in his voice.
“No worries. Nice to meetcha Little Miss,” the man said easily. You didn’t reply. The men exited the cabin leaving only you, Shanks, and the piping hot bath. 
“Come on, then. Let’s get you in there while it's still hot,” the Emperor suggested. You nodded and stood up, shucking the Emperor’s cloak you’d been clutching.
Shanks POV
He shouldn’t have been surprised when you complied immediately, leaving his cloak on the bed and revealing your nude body. You’d been beaten into submission - if he told you to jump overboard he’d hear the splash shortly thereafter. His eyes raked over your form while you limped to the tub, noticing the bruising, the cuts, the marks he hadn’t before. Even in your currently broken form, you were breathtaking. Shanks’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch you but he stuffed his hand into his pocket for the time being, getting closer to aid your descent into the water.
“Why are you limping?” Shanks asked as you gripped the edge of the tub to lift yourself in. You froze in place, looking down at the water. Raising your foot behind you revealed a deep gash in the sole of your foot. Shanks crouched down to get a better look at the wound while capturing your foot in his hand. The doctor hadn’t inspected the bottom of your feet so he was sure Hongo hadn’t seen this one. The cut was clearly deliberate with how deep and uniform it was. Taking a deep breath to avoid swearing caused the tempting perfume of your cunt to hit Shanks’s nose. His first instinct was to hold you in place and run his tongue all the way up your legs till he reached your tantalizing pussy. Then he wanted to rub his nose up and down your slit until the scent of your pussy was all he could smell. Now wasn’t the time, you were shaking and tired and had a long way to go until you could rest.
“Ach. I wish you’d said something, are there any other cuts Hongo didn’t inspect?” Shanks said in mild admonishment. You licked your lips and nodded slowly. You were shaking, your shoulders hunched in to make yourself smaller. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not mad,” Shanks said quietly, putting your foot back down and standing up, regrettably moving away from the scent of your groin. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek repeatably in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m not mad, I just need to know where you need medical attention. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information, right?” You nodded, your hair obscuring your face from his view. “Where’s the other cut?” Shanks inquired while moving his hand to the small of your back.
You took in a deep breath and put your good foot on the tub, opening your legs to his eyes. At the very inner crease of your leg, where your thigh met your groin, was another infected bite mark. Shanks squared his shoulders and kept his face neutral. His first instinct had been to snarl at the offending sight but managed to restrain his response at the sight of you. Shanks saw your vacant gaze, shaking hands, and clammy skin and knew it would only make things worse.
“”S all right. We can let Hongo know later,” Shanks slipped on the mask of his affable nature as he spoke to smooth over the moment. “In ya go, Love,” Shanks said while picking you up by the waist and depositing you into the tub without warning. Shanks needed you in the water so your smell would dissipate before he lost control of himself. You hissed when your skin hit the water but otherwise made no movements. “Here you go,” Shanks said, handing you soap and a towel before dragging a stool over to sit near the tub. “You do your front, I’ll get your back.” 
You began lathering the washcloth with soap and warm water before you began rubbing down your arms and torso. Shanks maintained a steady one sided conversation while he started pouring water down your back. He was trying to acclimate you to the sound of his voice in an attempt to bring you comfort in what surely was an uncomfortable time. While lathering his own washcloth Shanks saw the formerly clear bathwater turning rust red with every swipe of your hands. As he began sudsing your back his eyes picked up faded scars he’d missed when looking over your more recent wounds. 
“I’m gonna wash your back now, ok? It’s hard to wash your own back and even harder when you only have one hand. There are more tasks than you’d think that require two hands, even beyond fighting or washing. Can you imagine how difficult buttons are to do with one hand? Or even tying boots? I have Beckman help me, that’s Benn Beckman, my first mate. You’ll meet him later, you’ll like him for sure. He looks gruff but make no mistake he’s a total sweetheart. He says that I milk it, and I do of course, but what’s the point of being a Captain if my first mate won’t hand feed me eggs every morning?” 
Shanks was acting casually but he noticed a miniscule shift in your mouth as he joked about Benn feeding him breakfast. You were close to smiling and Shank’s heart swelled with pride. He knew there was some glimmer of you buried deep within and he was going to bring you back to the surface. He finished washing your back and you’d washed your arms, torso, and legs but made no move to wash your hair.
“Do you want me to wash your hair, Love? I can if you’d like,” Shanks was trying to offer you as many simple choices as possible to show you that he wasn’t going to control every aspect of your life. You shook your head in response to his query. “Alright, go ahead then, almost done here,” Shanks said gently but to his surprise, you shook your head again. “No? I don’t mean to be rude sweetheart but your hair’s dirty, it needs to be washed.” 
“Cut it all off,” you rasped. Shanks tilted his head to the side, your request startling. Even male Omegas preferred long hair, it was simply a characteristic commonly associated with the dynamic. One of the most severe non-corporeal punishments an Omega could face was having a forced haircut. For an Omega to request a drastic haircut was unheard of. Your hair was long, indicating you’d been growing it long before Kid had gotten his hands on you even through your time being suppressed.
“Can I ask why?” Shanks questioned, picking up the soggy ends from the water. 
“Can’t be pulled,” you answered. You parted your hair in the back, showing a bald spot where your hair had been yanked out from the root. Shanks moved his stool so he was no longer sitting behind you but beside you.
“Look at me,” Shanks requested and you partially complied as you turned your head towards him. You looked at his chest but not at his face. “ Look at me,” Shanks repeated, this time with a Command. Not physically able to disobey an Alpha of his power, your widened eyes snapped to him. It was the first time he’d Commanded you to do anything, but this was important.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. You may not always like what I do, but I will never harm you. Do you understand?” Shanks said softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb. He’d done that a lot, he mused. Something about you called him to take care of you, to provide for you physically and emotionally. You nodded. “I’m gonna have to hear you say it,” Shanks said, almost sorry for forcing you to talk.
“I understand,” you stated in your ruined voice. Unsure if his Command was completed you continued looking at him. Shanks smiled at you and kissed the top of your head.
“I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a deal. I’ll wash and brush your hair for you tonight. If you still want to cut it off tomorrow morning, we will. We can have matching haircuts if you want,” Shanks said, flipping back his own hair for emphasis. A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of your lips as you nodded your consent to his deal.
Your POV
Your arms looped around your knees in the cooling water as Shanks washed your hair tenderly. You had been sincere in your wish to cut it - you never wanted to be dragged by your hair ever again. Shanks’s offer startled you since Omegas were often physically groomed to whatever standard the Alpha wanted regardless of how they felt about it. The bath had given you a lot of stress since you weren’t sure what to expect. Anything new, any deviation from the standard made you nervous since you couldn’t predict the outcome. It had been an all right experience but not as relaxing as the Emperor had anticipated. 
Shanks only had one hand but it didn’t slow him down when bathing you. He rattled on about whatever he was thinking about while you listened as he worked the soap onto your scalp and rinsed it. He was pulling the brush easily through your hair while telling you about a strange boy he’d met years before when there was a knock at the door. 
“Wait,” Shanks ordered in a tone more stern than he’d used when speaking to you. “Up, dear,” Shanks motioned with the hairbrush. The water dripping off you in rivulets left you exposed to the cold air making your skin erupt into goosebumps. Shanks quickly dried you off with a fluffy towel before he wrapped it around your body. After you were dried to Shanks’s satisfaction, he swapped the towel for a large purple robe, picked you up, and sat you on the chair by the desk.
“Come in,” Shanks said, sitting on the edge of the desk next to you. He took your wrinkly hand and held it in his own as you resumed staring at the floor. Three pairs of boots walked past and you heard them hefting the tub back out of the room.
“Blech, what’d she do? Bathe in mud?” one man said.
“Shut the fuck up,” Hongo replied calmly while coming to stand in front of you. He had his medicine kit again and you knew this part would be even less fun than the bath. Two pairs of boots stopped in front of you but you only recognized Hongo’s. The other male was also an alpha though not as strongly scented as Shanks.
“There’s a few more Hong,” Shanks said casually, stroking the top of your hand. “She’s got a cut on the sole of her foot and one on her inner thigh. Both need attention.”
“Alright, not an issue. Let’s get started,” Hongo said while setting his bag on the desk. “Over to the other side of the cabin,” Hongo ordered Shanks, who bristled immediately. 
“Nah, I’m gonna stay here,” Shanks said, keeping your hand in his own.
“No, you’re not. Go over there with Beckman. I don’t want to have to treat my own wounds in addition to hers when I stitch her up.” You cringed, waiting for the Captain to slap his subordinate but it never came. Instead, you heard a deep voice ushering the Emperor away from you.
“C’mon, Cap. ‘S for the best. We’ll be a few feet away and she’s a big girl, she can be apart from you for a minute or two.” You were guessing this was Benn Beckman, the first mate Shanks had told you about. Shanks whined in response but let go of your hand nonetheless.
“”M right here if you need me, Sweets,” Shanks reassured you as he receded. You didn’t protest but a part of you did wish Shanks was nearby. You didn’t feel all that comfortable around him but he was the person you were most familiar with. Hongo had been taking tools and liquids out of his bag in preparation for the procedures. After putting on a pair of glasses, Hongo snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.
“It’s not gonna feel great, but I’ll try to make it as painless as possible, OK? Let’s start with your neck, I think that’s the most severe. Did you wash it in the bath?” He asked, using the stool Shanks had previously occupied. You nodded in confirmation that you had followed the doctor’s orders.
“Let’s take a look, yeah?” You tilted your head to allow the doctor access to your neck. Even though you knew he was going to touch you, you still flinched when he made contact with your skin. “I’m gonna clean it and drain the pus. After I’m gonna have to stitch it,” the doctor informed you. You heard the sound of liquid moving and felt alcohol being applied to your neck. Not wanting to interrupt Hongo’s work, you stayed as still as you could even as the alcohol burned on contact with your wound. 
“See? Not even a single reaction outta me,” you heard Shanks say in the background and Beckman grunted in response to his captain.
After wiping down the area, you heard the clanging of metal as Hongo picked up a scalpel. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp pain as the knife met your skin. Based on other wounds you’d received, you knew the doctor was trying to be gentle but you still hissed as he cut into you and pressed on the wound.
“No, sit down. She’s fine -”
“I AM sitting down, but I just wanna go -” 
“No, stay put.” You heard Shanks and Beckman arguing on the other side of the room. Hongo was right to bring the first mate, it sounded like Shanks was having a hard time watching the doctor tend to your wounds. You wondered if it was from possessiveness, like Kid, or because he didn’t like watching you being hurt. You didn’t think about it for long as a sharp pain crowded out your train of thought when the doctor began pressing on your wound to drain the pus.
“Not much more, almost there. It’s a deep wound, otherwise I wouldn’t have to stitch it.” You whimpered as the doctor pushed even harder for a moment, then covered the area with gauze. You heard scuffling again.
“Let go of me Benn, I need to - I said stop shoving me!” Shanks’ voice rose with more anger in his voice. His scent was starting to bloom, filling the air with the smell of oranges and cloves in an unconscious effort to soothe you.
“One more time and you’re out of the cabin until he’s done. Stop talking and distracting everyone. You know it’s for her own good so Let Hongo work,” Benn huffed. You couldn’t concentrate on Shanks anymore because the doctor started to stitch. You closed your lips into a thin line and screwed your eyes shut in a futile effort to block out the pain.
“Ah, relax, relax. If you tense your muscles it hurts more,” the doctor chided you gently as the needle pricked your skin over and over. You relaxed your face as much as you could. You’d had stitches before and you were no stranger to pain but the bite was in such a delicate and sensitive area you couldn’t help as a few tears escaped your eye. Finally, you heard the words you were waiting for.
“All done, just snipping the end of the thread. One more moment and we can move on.” Scissors were brought close to your face and snipped the end of the medical thread. “Look straight ahead for me?” Hongo instructed you, facing you head on. You looked forward, your neck aching with the effort. “And turn to the other side?” You turned and saw Shanks smiling and waving at you despite being held against the wall by Benn. You dropped your eyes after a moment too long.
“So what’s next? Shanks said you had a foot injury? Those are a real drag,” Hongo said, trying to make light conversation. You nodded and crossed your leg over your knee to show the doctor the sole of your foot. Hongo reached out to pick up your foot by the ankle and peered closely at the wound with his glasses.
“Knife?” he asked abruptly. You nodded. “Accident?” You shook your head. 
“Punishment. Ran away,” you said quietly. Hongo hummed and tilted your foot. You used the extra fabric of the extravagant robe to cover yourself more as Hongo lifted your leg and placed your foot on his lap. Shanks growled lightly but otherwise made no noise.
“Luckily it’s pretty shallow. Probably hurts to walk but it should heal quickly. I don’t need to suture it but I am going to wrap it,” Hongo explained. He cleaned the wound and used long nosed tweezers to get a few pieces of debris out. The digging was uncomfortable and made you try to jerk your foot back unintentionally but Hongo’s grip was tight. He finished quickly and wrapped the wound in gauze and bandages.
“Next is the leg, right? Let’s see,” Hongo offered. Your mouth twisted as you thought of having to show the wound. You pointed to the bed and hoped the doctor didn’t think you were arrogant.
“Sure, go ahead and lay down if it's easier for you,” Hongo offered. He picked you up and you heard the Emperor’s rumble returning, making you ball your hands into fists.
“Oi, you’re scaring her Redhair,” Benn said as you were placed on the bed. The rumble stopped for a moment but quickly resumed as soon as you opened your legs to show Hongo the wound. You were covering what you could with the robe but Shanks only got louder as Hongo came closer to you. As his head dipped low to look at it with his glasses, Shanks’s loud roar made you cower. 
“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Ben said, manhandling the Emperor out of the cabin. “I’m keeping this one outside. Let us know when you’re done. C’mon you,” Beckman said, still grappling with a struggling Shanks. You knew that if the Emperor really wanted to stay, no one on board could keep him out. You guessed that the Emperor was trying to allow Hongo to take care of you but the Alpha within him didn’t like the other male so close to you. You closed your eyes and willed this experience to be over as soon as possible. Hongo was touching your upper leg in a professional manner but the feeling of someone near your core had you near tears. This wound wasn’t as bad as the one on your neck since you had secretly washed it a few times. 
“All done. Good job, Omega. You did better than some of the men on board,” Hongo said before removing the gloves and putting his glasses back in their case. “You stay there, I’ll get Shanks.” No sooner had the doctor finished speaking than the door opened and the Emperor strode in, carrying a basket in his hand. You sat up and gulped, unsure how angry he would be. 
“Out,” he said to Hongo before he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry Hong. What I meant was, thank you. And you were right about Beckman, owe ya one.”
“Owe me a bottle of booze is whatcha owe me,” Hongo said, smiling easily. “Have her eat and go to sleep. Poor thing’s exhausted.” 
“Already on it,” Shanks murmured. He placed the basket on the bed as the doctor left, taking his equipment with him. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I took a bit of everything. The crew already ate dinner and those assholes left no leftovers. Well, we didn’t really know you were coming, but Lucky’ll make you whatever you want tomorrow. For now, here’s a little snack.” Shanks reached into the basket and pulled out some cheese, dried meat, grapes, crackers, and some nuts. “I stole a bunch of this from Beckman’s cabin, he’s got good taste.” You hesitatingly reached over to the slices of cheese, taking one in your hand. Biting into it, you nearly moaned. You hadn’t had fresh food in forever, subsisting on whatever Kid remembered to bring into his cabin. 
You ate a few more slices in silence, Shanks leaning back on the bed and eating some of the mixed nuts he’d taken. “You want one?” he asked, holding a grape in his hand. You nodded and held out your hand to take one from the bowl. “Ah ah. Open,” he demanded, putting the grape right in front of your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and Shanks popped the fruit in. You didn’t know why but you felt yourself starting to blush faintly. You were wearing the Emperor’s robe, on his bed, after he bathed you, and yet feeding you a grape made you feel embarrassed? You yawned after you swallowed, your eyelids feeling heavy. You wanted to rest but were still unsure if you needed permission.
“Aw, you’re tired? ‘S alright, we can eat more tomorrow. Drink a cup of water and we’ll be off to bed,” Shanks said, pouring water into a cup from a bottle on the nightstand. Handing you the cup, your fingers brushed against his. You drank greedily, draining the cup in seconds. “More?” Shanks asked but you shook your head. He quickly put the food back in the basket and set it on the floor.
“Lay down. You look so sleepy little Omega. Come on, right here next to me on the bed, it’s nice and warm, I’ll hold you,” Shanks cooed at you. Your lip wobbled at the suggestion but you held firm and didn’t cry. You’d spent many nights on the cold floor of Kid’s cabin, your chains pulling at your weakened limbs. Crawling over to the head of the bed, you laid down on your side on one of the fluffy, feather filled pillows. The Emperor covered your body with his heavy blanket and you burrowed down into its warmth while inhaling the rich scent of the Alpha. You’d missed being warm and comfortable at night more than any other luxury, even more than eating regularly. Shanks laid down behind you and pulled you close to his body, draping his arm loosely across your torso. 
“Good night, little Omega,” he said, kissing the top of your head.
“Good night, Emperor,” you croaked, already half asleep. One thought tickled the corner of your mind before you could succumb to sleep completely. “The other ship?” You’d felt the Emperor’s boat rock earlier but you were too focused on your circumstances to notice anything else.
“Hm? Kid’s ship? Dorry and Broggy cut it in half,” Shanks mumbled while running his hand up and down your ribs. You hummed happily and let sleep overtake you.
Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle
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letorip · 9 months ago
Text
i heard your name [ii]
“i want you so, i can hardly let you go, please be mine for a time, now and forever”
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pairing: cairo sweet x reader
summary: after several weeks of trying to run in the opposite direction, you find you can no longer evade the magnetic pull yanking you towards her
warnings: explicit but gender neutral sexual content, being used both physically and emotionally, 'lover boy' is used ironic and is still considered gender neutral, implied teacher-student relationships
word count: 6.4k
A/N: definitely making another already because it’s kind of getting juicy. again inspired by pale fire and hot summer nights.
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===+++===
You had always heard that people looked like their pets, but it had never occurred to you that someone could look like their house. Standing in front of Lovell Hill, it was impossible anyone else but Cairo Sweet lived there.
The building stood tall, with white towering ionic columns that reached to hold up the dark clay tile roofing like soft angelic hands lifted to the sky. Everything about the house was big, with a giant, wide cedar porch and a towering balcony that looked out over the small garden in front of its door.
You had figured Cairo was well off from her clothes and general overabundance of education, but this screamed a wealth so extreme it almost wasn’t computing in your brain. Not with your own tawdry house that had only been built two years ago and was about the size of Cairo’s home if you sliced it by a quarter.
You had seen homes like these in movies or on the home improvement channels. Most motels had the home improvement channels on the TV, and you had watched with a sense of awe, sitting on the mouldy carpet late at night with your mom asleep behind you, looking at the muted tours of the homes with a private envy.
Such grandeur was incomprehensible and didn’t exist beyond the screen and TV magic. Or, that’s what you thought until you stood at the end of her garden, with all its greenery and a few lines of flowers, looking up at the front door.
It was quite the dilemma, to knock or not to knock. You could turn around right now, save yourself a whole bunch of sleepless nights and half a brain if you just told her you felt sick and had to cancel. She’d be annoyed, sure, but maybe Cairo being angry was better than Cairo being hungry.
You weren’t all too sure you wouldn’t try to satiate her hunger, and that was a dangerous game to play. Since she had sat down beside you in class, fleeting had been slowly drifting away, and you found yourself clutching onto what little of it you had left, rebuking the witchcraft that seemed to tug you to her.
You were about to do that, walk away, but then the door to the balcony swung open, and out Cairo came, leaning over the railing with a smile, and you felt your own heart clutch to your ribs. She propped her head up on her palm, peering down at you.
“Are you coming in?” She asked, laughing. “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”
“I’m just looking. At the landscaping,” you called up to her, and it was mostly true, though Cairo laughed like you were being funny. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks. Fleeting, you idiot.
“It’s my parents’ house. I know it’s a bit much,” said Cairo, standing up straighter.
“A bit?” you said, the sarcasm worming its way into your voice. It was a lot much.
“Yeah,” she replied, smiling at you again all bright. “A bit.” You smiled back, holding a hand up to cover your eyes so you could continue to stare at her on the balcony in the sun, like your own Juliet.
“Can I come inside?” You asked, taking a few steps forward into the shadow the roof of her house casted over the ground. Cairo seemed to find a playfulness with the question, and you were left there like a moron, wondering why she was laughing again.
“No, actually,” she said. “I invited you here to make you walk over here and then walk home.”
“Did you."
“I did,” she nodded, having fun. “I’ll be down in a minute when I’m done with something; the front door is unlocked."
"That seems unsafe," you said.
She raised her eyebrows at you. "Why, are you worried for my safety?"
You shrugged, deciding neutrality was the best policy. There wasn't anything wrong with saying you were worried about her as a friend, but you knew she would draw some strange entendre. "I would worry about random people wandering in, to be honest."
Cairo shook her head. "Not here in Tennessee. Now go inside. The longer you stall me the longer it takes me to finish what I'm doing." With that, she disappeared back inside, leaving you on her porch. You swallowed the lump in your throat and went inside.
Cairo Sweet's house was much like her soul, in grandeur and in wealth. Even in the foyer, which was where you found yourself, the walls seemed to reach up much like the pillars, raised towards the covered sky. A grand staircase led up to the second floor, and with the soft closing of the door behind you, Cairo called out from up the stairs.
"You can go into the kitchen, I left some wine out on the counter."
You blinked. "Wine?" You said back, making sure you were hearing correctly. Cairo's laugh floated down from the second floor.
"Yes, 'wine.'" You had never had anything like wine before, though the way she threw it out so casually made you think she was no stranger to the concept.
The kitchen was the room right off to the left of the foyer, with a large bay window and some checkered ceramic tiling on the floor. In the centre sat an old gas range stove, a similar shade of green as the walls. The brass handle curved down to the drawer on the bottom, and it looked like a droll little mouth underneath the knobs.
On the white marbled countertop that boxed the stove in was a set of two glasses and a bottle of reddish wine that was three quarters full. The entire room was immaculately clean, with the perfectly angled chairs sitting around the nook table in the corner and the utterly spotless surfaces, both floor and table.
It looked just like those staged houses on the home improvement channels, and you wandered over to peer into the glass hutch, which was piled up with books in stacks around it. The top cabinet held an array of glassware, some of them gathering dust. They were pretty, and you leaned in to the ceramic ones with antique designs etched into the sides. You wanted to own dishes like those, someday.
"The plates are pretty, aren't they? It’s a real shame about the led.” You spun around to find Cairo behind you. Your heart immediately started doing a backflip in your chest. Cairo was no longer in the soft shirt and shorts she had been wearing on her balcony— no. Instead, she was now in a silky cream-coloured dress, one that clung to the curves of her body and hung elegantly from her shoulders in a way that made the tips of your ears warm.
She walked right up to you as if there was no difference, staring at the plate you had been looking at with what couldn't possibly be a genuine curiosity. Up close it was clear she had put on some makeup, her lips glossy and pink and her eyes dark. She had to know she was playing you like a fiddle.
You watched her in laser focus as she nodded at the plate. "My parents bought that one from a village in the Swiss Alps."
"What?" you mumbled, clever as always.
"The plate," she said, like it was obvious. "Most of the plates in there are from Switzerland or China."
"Oh...cool."
Cairo brushed past it, gesturing back to the bottle that sat on the counter. "Would you like some?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.
"But what would your parents say?" you asked. Mostly you were looking for any excuse not to, but you were also filled with curiosity. Cairo Sweet hadn't just fallen out of a coconut tree— she was the product of whatever her parents were like and you desired to put two and two together, and for that to make it make sense.
"They're not here right now," she replied, walking right over to the bottle and pulling the cork straight out. You swallowed but followed her over, and Cairo grabbed a glass to pour it into.
"So you live here?" It was a genuine question, and part of you was still struggling to understand that this was just someone's everyday lifestyle. Cairo nodded.
"That's what Winnie asked me too, when she first saw it. People say my house is haunted."
"They do?"
"Yeah," she said. "Lovell Hill. It's famous, or at least around here it is."
"Well... is it true?"
Cairo shook her head. "Sorry to disappoint. Only thing that lives here is me."
"And your parents?"
Her mouth thinned into a line at the question, but she spoke quickly. "Yes, them too." Then Cairo held up a glass. "Would you like some?"
"Uh, no thanks. We should probably start on the assignment...," you trailed off. Cairo was staring you down with a certain glint in her eye. “What?”
"You've never drank before," she said. It wasn't a question, and you could feel heat going back to your face. To any other person, you'd have no problem saying no, but to her you felt your breath catch in your throat.
"Uh, I have, I just don't want any right now," you lied. And Cairo knew you were lying, judging from the smile she watched you with. But she only shrugged.
"You can have some of mine later, then," she said, straightening up and walking out of the kitchen. You followed her like a proper guest, like she was a tour guide helping you through the jungle. You warily tailed her out of there and up the stairs.
On the landing there were even more books, in large, towering stacks near the railing, ended on each side by potted plants and small floor decorations. You stopped, taking a thick paperback from off the top of one stack and turning it over to read the back. “Have you really read all of these?” You asked. Cairo turned.
“Not all of them, no. Most of them belong to my parents, so they’re cheesy spy thrillers and soapy romances.”
You nodded. “My mom reads those ones too.”
“Anyways, what do you read?” Cairo asked, walking over to you and taking the book from your hands to look at it herself. You shrugged.
“For a while there, anything I could get my hands on.”
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"Uh, just that my mother didn't take me to bookstores a lot," you said, having gotten comfortable with lying. In reality, you had mostly read travel books and magazines from gas stations, since those were really the only places you and your mother stopped often. You didn't start actually reading book-books until you were about ten, and your mom bought you a kindle for your birthday.
But giving Cairo the truth would mean telling her you were on the road a lot, which would mean telling her about why it was you moved so often, which would mean telling her you would probably be leaving soon, so you lied. It was typically a better idea to vanish without warning one day, off to another state like you had been one giant bad dream.
"Mm," she hummed it agreement, putting the book back down and leading the way into a door that stood at the far end of the hall. "My parents didn't either, when they realised I bought like ten or twelve at a time," she said, tugging you into her bedroom.
It was exactly like you could have imagined it, with a darker shade of green and ebony wainscoting that matched the grand bed in the middle of the room with fluffy, lush bedding and a near mountain of pillows in the centre.
"Well then," Cairo drawled. "Shall we?"
The smirk she was staring at you with sent a shiver down your spine. You gave her a cautious nod and pulled your backpack off of your back.
===+++===
You had your paper almost completely done within an hour of laying down on Cairo's bed to write it, though in the corner where Cairo sat typing hers, she seemed incredibly frustrated. You had only been observing her a little, watching her type what could've maybe been a few words and then immediately holding down the delete key until they were all gone.
You understood to a certain extent— windows were so unbelievably symbolic it was possible to go in millions of directions when writing your story. But you were almost done, and inspiration had hit you from the moment you knew what your symbol was meant to be.
You put the final finishing sentences in where they were meant to go, and put down your pen, sitting up to crack your fingers and stretch your back. Cairo looked up at you, eyes glaring.
"You're finished?" Her tone was sharp, and you looked around the room in surprise.
"Yeah?" You replied. Cairo narrowed her eyes at you.
"How," she demanded sitting up in her chair and slamming her laptop shut.
You shrugged. "I don't know, I kind of rushed it anyhow."
"Let me read it, (Y/n)," Cairo said, holding her hand out. You leaned forwards and tossed the paper to her, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling while she read it. She had one of those popcorn roofs, with bumps all over it, and you found yourself tracing a little path in your mind.
"This is..." she said after a few minutes. You turned your head to look at her sideways. "This is really good," said Cairo, but in a way that made your eyebrows furrow.
"Why'd you say it like that?" you asked, sitting up from where you had been laying.
"Like what?" She asked standing up from her chair and walking towards you, to lean on one of the bedposts. You swallowed.
"I... don't know," you muttered.
"Hm," she hummed. "I have a question."
"Yeah?"
"The astronaut. The one who goes crazy in outer space from looking out the window on his solo mission. Is that supposed to be you?"
"Oh. No, he isn't. He's just a character I thought of," you shook your head. Cairo raised an eyebrow at you.
"But he is a lot like you, isn't he? Alone, I mean. That's why you lied to Winnie about lunch." She got you with that line. You stared at her, frowning. Your mind screamed LIE over and over, but you knew there was no point. Not when she was reading you like a book. She took another step towards you, until she was standing in between your legs where you sat. You hadn't realised there was any connection with the astronaut when you thought of him, but maybe he was?
"Are you lonely, (Y/n)?"
"No? I mean, I don't think I am." It came out in a whisper; you didn't need to speak loudly when Cairo was so close. You could feel her hot breath on your cheeks like a fan.
"I've been thinking of you, since you arrived," Cairo murmured. Her fingers crawled up your knee slowly, the pads of her fingers brushing the hem of your shorts. She looked down at the small space between you.
"Yeah?" You asked.
"You're captivating," she said. "It's annoying. Shrouded in mystery and answering to no one."
"Yeah?" Pink was flushing towards your cheeks.
She smiled, looking up at your face again. "Yeah. It would be less distracting if you didn't come with such nice eyes."
You swallowed. It felt like everywhere her fingers went she left behind a trail of pure fire, churning up your insides. Your mind was screaming at you to not be an idiot. You'd probably regret this in a month or two when your mom told you you would be leaving again. Stop, right now and save yourself so much sleep, you idiot. That would've been the smart thing to do.
Her hands came up slowly, skimming gently up your neck until they landed at the nape, and you were reminded of the lollipop she had plucked from your lips to place in her own for a moment.
"Cairo, what're we doing?" you managed. Cairo shrugged.
"You ask me that but I'm not entirely sure. I just know it feels nice," she whispered to you. "So shut up and let me feel nice," she said with a smile.
Within an instant, her lips pressed hard into your own. You pulled your head back in surprise but Cairo's soft palms held you firmly where you sat, and you found yourself melting at the feeling. It was messy and it wasn't graceful, but it spoke of the passion that bubbled under Cairo's removed exterior. She started to move against you then, and you against her.
You found yourself entranced at the sensation, and pulled away just to get a look at her face. She was breathing heavily, lips red and eyes wild, and you only came back wanting more, reconnecting the both of you, your hands moving to her waist and then up her back.
"Cairo..." you mumbled, her lips moving to your jaw and then hastily to your ear.
"Mm," she hummed.
"Cairo, I can't," you managed, trying to pull away but finding her still on you. Your mind was yelling at you horrible, horrible things, not only about yourself but about what you wanted to do to her.
"Mm," she sounded again, moving down your neck in a way that left you tingly.
"Really, I just—"
"Take my hands off of you, then," she challenged, in between peppering kisses and sucking on a spot directly over your pulse. You shivered.
"I can't."
"Well, I guess we're at a crossroads," she said. Her right hand slid down your chest to the hem of your shirt, sliding gently underneath and laying itself flat against your stomach. She smirked when she reconnected your lips, knowing she was winning.
"This is a really bad idea."
"You talk too much."
"No, because this is really a conflict of interest. We're supposed to uh..." you stammered, getting distracted by he hand on your stomach slowly getting lower and lower, creeping towards the top of your shorts. "We're supposed read each other's stuff and be honest."
Cairo stopped, pulling away, raising her eyebrows at you. "Are you serious? You don't want to have sex with me —when you've been practically eye-fucking me since we met— so that you can be an honest peer grader???"
"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid."
"That's because it is stupid."
"I— I just can't do that with someone."
She scoffed. "Are you waiting until marriage or something?"
"No."
"Are you asexual?"
"No."
"Is it Winnie?"
"No."
"Do you like boys?"
"No!"
"Then why? I mean, come on. We both knew this would end one of two ways."
"We're better off as just classmates, trust me."
Cairo blinked at you for a moment, like you were the most confusing person she had ever met. Then she got up off of you. Your lap felt lighter, but also emptier, and you wanted to scream up at the stars for not being able to just indulge this one little desire.
"Fine," she said, and her tone caught you off guard. Most people would probably be upset or angry, but it just seemed like Cairo was challenged and endeared. Like she was going to work out your problem and get right back to this situation, only this time she'd get exactly as she wanted.
She wouldn't, you promised yourself. Never ever. The heartbreak wasn't worth it. Cairo checked her watch. "Could you come over tomorrow too? I'm not done with my story yet, and I want you to read it."
"Uh," you thought out loud. You didn't see why not. Maybe you wouldn't be lovers, but just innocent friends? You weren't so much a monster that you wouldn't be able to stop yourself if you hung out with her. Innocent friends were much easier to forget anyways. "Sure," you said, unknowingly giving her exactly what she wanted.
===+++===
You had gone to her house almost every night for the past week, laying on her bed while she sat in the corner in the same familiar chair, typing the same bloody story that she refused to be satisfied with. It was becoming a pattern, even an unconscious one. The next day had been entirely as awkward as expected, with you trying to act as unbothered as possible.
The friendship was going better than you had anticipated, and you were very pleased with your own self restraint. Winnie had come over too, once or twice, and you enjoyed existing within the context but still on the periphery of a friendship.
Cairo Sweet would hunt you down as her friend or as her whatever-you-were, so you figured giving into one would be the path of least resistance anyhow.
She must have been an insanely picky writer. She wrote every word with an overabundant caution, like she was trying so hard to craft perfection. It was like she wanted her keyboard to drip liquid gold onto the page, and the critics to all collectively clap when she finished a sentence.
"You're like George R. R. Martin with how slow you finish a story," you had said once, out of the blue. Cairo looked up at you, offended, and thrown a pillow in your direction that connected with your face.
"I'm trying to cultivate perfection of the written word," she said, and you rolled your eyes.
"God, writers are so pretentious," you wrinkled your nose. "The only people who like to read annoying writers' books are annoying people."
Cairo scoffed. "Yeah, what, you want to be surrounded by James Bond fans? Stephen King fanboys?"
"That's cool, though," you shrugged. "Gets the point across, isn't badly written, and makes a sometimes beautiful passage along the way."
"Oh, so your writing," she joked, smiling at you. It was an innocent smile, and one that so starkly contrasted the lustful one she had looked at you with only a few days ago. Even in memory, her eyes sent a shiver up your spine.
"Yeah, well, people seem to like it. I guess I’m doing something right," you said. Cairo frowned.
"I don't get it," she shook her head. "And you still won't let me read that first one you wrote."
"It's not exactly something I want to talk about to you."
"Why? Is it bad?" she asked, sitting up straight. You knew she meant 'tell me your dirty secrets' by that.
"I just don't want to."
"Hm," she grumbled, laying back in the chair. "And anyways, if what you say about that thing is true, I don't know why Miller liked it. His book is full of the flowery stuff you complain about."
"He wrote a book???" You were incredulous.
Cairo nodded. "A while ago. Apostrophes and Ampersands."
"Never heard of it."
Cairo shrugged. "It didn't exactly make massive waves. It was ingenious though. Grand and tragic."
"You read it then?" You asked, sitting up and turning towards her.
"Yes, I did," she replied nonchalantly. "I enjoyed it."
You looked out the window for a moment, then back to her. Friends should be friends. "Can I borrow your copy?"
===+++===
"God," you groaned, reading Mr. Miller's book with it held over your head, laying on your back. Cairo had given it to you two days ago and now you were slogging through it, waiting for it to get interesting. "'Human ruins of a madman's love,'" you mocked.
"It's gorgeous," Cairo said. She wasn't in her usual chair, she was sitting by the window with it cracked open, a cigarette in her hand.
"It's not— wait, are you smoking?" You asked, sitting up. Cairo rolled her eyes, grinning at you.
"No, I'm just sitting here with a cigarette lit in my fingers."
"God. Wine and a cigarette, what are you, thirty-four."
"Shut up," she said, putting the cigarette in between her lips and puffing out the window. "And anyways that quote is beautiful."
"Maybe," you challenged. "But what is it actually saying?"
"She means everything to him and he's going crazy for her," Cairo said, like it was obvious. You nodded.
"That's the thought and THAT'S what's good there. That's universal. He's losing the plot— getting lost in the sauce— of trying to sound like he's saying something, to the point where he's losing the entire meat of the message."
"Maybe," said Cairo. "But you said one of your books was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Not exactly the height of literature."
"And I stand by that," You said. "That's actually enjoyable. You don't enjoy reading this, you enjoy being clever enough to read this, when it's saying something you've heard a million times in a million more decipherable ways. And those ways end up being more beautiful, too.”
"Perhaps," she said. "Or maybe I think the writing is beautiful."
"Well then, I think you're crazy."
"You're welcome to do that," Cairo replied, smile still wide. "You probably will."
===+++===
You managed not to cave until a warmer day, about a week after that. Cairo Sweet had previously been a sweet exterior with absolutely nothing on the inside for you to feel a deep pull towards. Only now, after slowly becoming comfortable, was the magnetic pull becoming physically painful.
Winnie had been absolutely beside herself, miffed at Cairo coming down and swiping you for herself. For a friend or for something more, it didn't matter. You were indisputably hers. And after a life of belonging to no one, you thought maybe Cairo took some sort of glee over making you belong to her.
Class was boring, Mr. Miller was fine, your mom seemed to be doing better, and school seemed to drone on. So when you came back to Cairo's house like normal, you were entirely unaware of how quickly you would fail your mission.
You were barely in door before she was running down the stairs, and the look of worry and surprise in your face only worsened when she got so up close to you, just for a second, and then just as hungry and hurriedly as before, kissed you with a brutal ferocity.
You were taken aback. Something was off. You pulled your head away and Cairo's palms pressed to your cheeks, thumbs brushing against the side of your face. She pulled you back and you had to turn your head away. "Cairo, what—"
"Shut up for once, please. Just kiss me the way a girl wants to be kissed."
You could feel every neuron telling you to get away from her. This was exactly what you had said you didn't want. And then there was the other side of you. The one that wanted to take her right then and then. You swallowed.
"I can't do these kinds of connections, Cairo. I told you."
"That's fine," Cairo rushed, her hand resting on your shoulder blade now. "I need one thing from you, and that's it. I don't ask for much, but I really need this."
Your eyebrows furrowed at her. "What are you talking about?"
"You've said you don't want anything, and okay, that’s fine. At least give me your body for the night. No strings attached.”
You blinked. “What?”
“I don’t owe you anything, you don’t owe me. We just do whatever this is. You make me feel good, and that’s it.” Her fingers had slithered back up to your hair, scratching gently at your scalp in a way that pulled your focus.
It just took a final glance at her face, for the dam to break. Her cheeks were a dusty red, eyes dilated and staring at you, and though you cursed yourself and your idiot Cro-Magnon mind, your palms went to her legs, tugging her up harshly and wrapping her legs around your waist.
“Shit,” you muttered, highly aware this was probably a bad idea. Cairo wrapped her arms around your neck, kissing you with a smile, and then once that broke, a passionate fervour. It was so much but it was so good. You carried her like that, up the stairs to her room, throwing her down on the bed.
She flipped you over, sitting on your lap like she had been back when the both of you first tried this, and it was all too intoxicating. Cairo’s hands went to your shoulders, pushing you back against the mattress before she leaned over, kissing you softly for a moment until it grew into more.
“Wait—” You said, and Cairo sat up, glaring at you.
“You did not get me all the way up here just to back out now,” said Cairo, annoyed beyond belief. You shook your head, tugging her back onto you. Her hair fell around you like a shield to your little private moment.
“I’m not backing out,” you promised, whispering because you felt like you didn’t want to be too loud. “I mean I’ve never … before.”
Cairo smiled at you, looking into your eyes for a moment. “Me neither,” she whispered back.
“Really?” you asked. Cairo raised her eyebrows.
“Fuck you.”
“No,” you shook your head, hand reaching up to move some of her hair out of her face. That wasn’t how you meant it. “…Really?”
She paused, eyes boring into yours. Then she gently nodded, and lowered herself down onto you, placing her lips on yours for another divine moment. It was all too hot in there. She let out a gasp when you tugged down her skirt.
===+++===
It was about five weeks after you had arrived, and you had gone to Cairo's house almost every week day, to continue exactly what had latched around your throat and tugged you harshly towards her.
There, in the milky white lighting of Cairo's table lamp, with her body snugly laying back against you and her book out in front of her, you fell in love for the first time. Really, fell in love.
Not the kind of "love" that swirls around your head as a child and wraps around the leg of the pretty girl in your class who has shiny hair. That kind of “love” where you can't get out a real sentence while talking to her. In comparison to the heavy feeling growing in your chest like a tumour, that was a mild liking.
No, this was the real thing. Adults had always said cryptic things about love, like "when you know, you'll know," and it hadn't ever really made sense, until it did.
As you looked down to watch her nose scrunch from the Nabokov, those three little words took on a whole new meaning. Her dark hair tickled the bare skin of your chest where she laid. Unlike her you still hadn't put your shirt back on, and you shivered a bit, even from under her blanket and her body heat. Her eyes, dark and focused, scanned across the paper, before elegantly flipping past the page with her thumb.
It was one of those renaissance paintings people cried for, in the Louvre, only it was playing out right in front of your eyes. And with that sudden rush of messy emotion, came the dastardly realisation that you were truly fucked.
"You're staring," she said, pulling you from your thoughts. She looked up at you, curious eyes focusing on your own. "What're you staring for?"
You shrugged, the movement shaking her against you. "What's the book you're reading?" You asked. "You seem mad at it."
She hummed, leaving her finger as a bookmark and flipping the cover towards you. The cover read Pale Fire. "That's because it's mostly incoherent rambling," she said. "Makes no sense."
You raised your eyebrows at her. "You don't understand Pale Fire?"
She tilted her head back, challenging you. “And you do?" You nodded. You had written a report during the two months you were in Maine. "Of course you do,” Cairo groaned, rolling her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.
Cairo shook her head, patting the side of your leg with her free hand. “Nothing.”
You sat up. “No, seriously. What do you mean?”
She sighed, closing the book around her index finger to hold her page. Cairo shut her eyes for a second, choosing her words carefully. “I mean... you’re annoyingly clever at something you don’t really care about.”
You laughed. "Careful, Sweet. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous."
"Well, I am," said Cairo. "I care about writing so much, and here you come along with literally no passion for it, and you're out-writing me."
"Uh, sorry?" You said with a smile. But the frown you saw on her face told you she wasn't really joking. Cairo scoffed, sitting up and turning towards you.
"No, I'm serious. You barely even try and you spill some amazing few paragraphs, and Mr. Miller loves you like you're his favourite student," she lamented, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"I promise," you sighed, "that I really don't mean to. I don't get it either, so—"
"—See, but that's what's so frustrating!" She cut you off. "You don't mean to. You don't mean to get in my way, but you do because you're so unbelievably perfect at everything, and Mr. Miller loves you so much."
"Okay, wait a minute," you said. "That's not fair."
"What's 'not fair' is me working my ass off until senior year to get to do what I've ALWAYS wanted to do, WRITE, and then you come along and pull all the praise and probably the recommendation letter too!"
You sat there for a moment, taking her words in, your mouth open in surprise. There had always been an inkling that Cairo was unhappy with having you in her class, but you had drowned the thought out with her lips on yours and treasuring every moment you made her smile with something stupid you said.
You cleared your throat and Cairo was already apologising. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she said, reaching towards you. "It's just so important to me, I get really worked up..."
"It's fine," you rushed. You knew people screamed and said nasty stuff when they were mad. It's just how people were, and it made sense to you. Your mom was like that too, with the yelling and stuff. "Do you..." you mumbled, trying to figure out how to solve her problem. "Do you want me to stop trying?" You asked.
Cairo's eyes lit up within an instant at the idea. "That would be amazing," she breathed. "Thank you so much." She reached across the space between you, kissing with a softness that hadn't previously been there. It was sweet, just like she was, and you breathed a sigh of relief, with the confrontation being over.
You nodded. "Sure." Then your gaze went out the window, realising the sun was starting to set and rain clouds were starting to form. Your hand flew to your leg, having forgotten you were only in your underwear.
"You left it downstairs, remember?" Cairo said, almost playful. When the two of you had gotten to her house, her lips had been so firmly ravaging your neck that your pants hadn't even made it up the stairs before she tugged them off and flung them to the marble bust that stood nearby. You sighed.
"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, getting up from the bed and around to the other side to pick your shirt up off the floor. Cairo also got up, throwing the sheets off herself and walking right over to her closet.
"No, I left my phone at school on accident," she replied, opening the door and flicking through the hangers. You pulled the shirt on over your head and fixed the soft collar. On the opposite side of the room, Cairo pulled out the same cream-coloured dress she had been wearing when you first came to study with her. You paused.
"You're getting all fancy?" You asked, turning to her floor mirror and attempting to fix your absolutely messy hair in a way that it wouldn't be clear Cairo had run her hands through it and gripped on tight.
"Mhm," Cairo said. "Having a guest over tonight."
"Oh. They work with your parents or something?" You said, turning to watch her with curiosity over her answer. Cairo pulled off her shirt so that she was now completely naked. She turned back to you with a smile.
"Do you like what you see?" said Cairo, and it made you blush a bit. You nodded.
"You're absolutely beautiful," you said. If you weren't worried about getting home before dinner, you would have walked right over to her and tugged her back into her bed. Cairo waved you off.
"You're too kind," she said. "Now run on home, lover boy." Cairo disappeared into the bathroom with the dress in her hand, and you heard her rustling around with the sink, probably doing her makeup.
"I... I guess I'll see you, then," you said, left alone in the room.
"Mhm," she called from the bathroom. You frowned, but did a final scan for anything you needed to take before heading out her bedroom door and down the stairs, to where your jeans were clumsily thrown over the Roman statue's head. You tugged your phone and keys from the pocket.
"Fuck," you cursed. Only around thirty minutes to get the whole way across town to your house before your mom started worrying. You walked right over to the door... only to find it was also pouring down rain, now. Dammit. You tugged on your jacket from where it had been hanging on a steel coatrack by the door, pulling the hood up.
You walked out onto the porch, shut the door behind you, and took off running, going as fast as you could down the garden and then up the street into the woods. You got about a hundred metres from her house, that was, until you stopped.
Driving right past you, barely able to see him in the storm, was Mr. Miller. Driving right to Cairo's house in his little sedan. You froze, stopping dead in the rain to watch him go. Even after his license plate retreated in the distance, you felt a sickening sense of dread begin to pool in your gut, one that was already tarnishing your prior bliss.
===+++===
part three perhaps? i also have a tara carpenter one in the works and a lorraine day that's mostly done so hopefully i'll be updating more frequently
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astronomoney · 10 months ago
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Waitress
Pairing + WC: Jason Grace x mortal!reader, 2.1k Warnings: NOT canon compliant, this takes place in my world where Piper and Jason realized they were best as friends right after lost hero and Leo never got with Caylpso. also TOA never happened because it makes me sad. Also somewhat not proof read Summary: Jason has been sneaking off for weeks and Leo is detirmened to find out why. Or alternativly: Leo, Piper, Annabeth, and Percy go snooping in Jasons buisness Authers note: Hey hey! first fic in what feels like a million years! I definitely have to shake the rust off a bit but this was a fun one to get back into it! I was listening to Waitress at work and got this idea so i ran with it. Honestly not much of the actual relationship, theres a lot of set up and other characters but I think I may do a part two if this does well :)
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Jason Grace was a busy man. Going between camps, building shrines to all the minor gods, serving as Pontifex Maximus, taking trips to Olympus to meet deities, and head counselor duties. Everyone knew he had no time on his schedule. His friends were lucky if they could get him to spare an hour to catch up, much less get him to a bonfire. So why on earth is it that Jason Grace would take upwards of two hours out of his day, three days a week, to walk out of camp and go to who knows where?
Leo was determined to find out. He’d watched Jason sneak off for the past month, and he was sick of wondering. He tried to bring it up but just got a red-faced muttered excuse about it’s just a walk in the woods and I have to finish my work before he'd disappeared into his cabin.
“I think we’re lost,” Percy said, stopping suddenly and causing Piper to almost slam into his back.
“We are not lost!” Leo exclaimed, “I swear he went this way,” 
“We’re miles from camp,” Piper butt in, “he could be anywhere,” she crossed her arms and glared at Leo. 
“We should turn back before someone notices we’re gone,” Annabeth added, looking up and down the road they were on. Leo had seen Jason sneaking off just before lunch and had convinced his friends to follow him. Now, here they were, on some back road heading through the woods surrounding the camp a mile and a half away from the border.
“Guys, c'mon! Don’t you want to know where he’s been going!” Leo turned back to the group. “He can’t have gotten far.” He kept walking backward in the same direction they’d been heading for the past 10 minutes. For a little while, they could see Jason walking along the side of the road, far ahead, but they’d kept their distance so he wouldn’t notice them. Then he made a turn at an intersection, and they’d lost sight of him. 
“Maybe he really is just out for a walk?” Piper offered.
Leo hualted now, “For two hours? No way, he’s definitely up to something out here.” He stared at the group, waiting for someone to disagree. No one did. It was definitely unusual behavior from the son of Jupiter to take so much time away from his work.
“We’ve been walking for 25 minutes. I say we go 5 more and then head back,” Annabeth spoke up, sending Leo a you owe me glance. 
“Perfect, 5 minutes!” Leo returned an appreciative smile before turning on his heel and continuing down the road with his friends in tow.
They rounded a corner a minute later, and Leo couldn’t help the I told you so grin that came across his face. In front of them, just a few more meters down the road was a genuine 1950s-style roadside diner with the name The Doo-Wop Diner plastered over the door. “See!” Leo pointed triumphantly, “Now imagine if we had turned back when you quitters had wanted to,” 
The group walked up to the diner, rolling their eyes at Leo’s antics. They peered in through the windows that lined the front. It was cute, with pastel blue on the walls, 50s-style booths, a jukebox in the corner, and a countertop bar.
“Is he even in there?” Percy asked, huddled next to Annabeth and scanning the restaurant.
“He’s got to be,” Leo squinted from Annabeth's other side.
“There he is!” Annabeth pointed to the far end of the bar where Jason was sitting. He had a cup of coffee and an open book in front of him.
“What’s he doing in there?” Leo asked as if any of them knew. “He walks all the way out here for ‘New York's best black coffee’?” He read off the sign in the window. 
The group looked at him for another minute in deliberation before Piper let out a quiet gasp. “It’s not the coffee he’s here for,” she was staring at something on the other end of the restaurant with wide, knowing eyes. “Look,”
When the three others looked back at Jason, they saw a soft, almost nervous smile on his face while he gave a slight wave. When they followed his gazeto the other side of the resturant, they all came to the same conclusion that Piper had. Jason Grace had walked nearly thirty minutes away from camp to a rinky-dink old diner on the side of the road to see you.
You were dressed in a 1950s waitress uniform and serving some of that aforementioned black coffee to an old couple. When you caught sight of Jason, your face lit up, and you waved back. As soon as you finished pouring the coffee, you brought the pot over to where Jason was sitting, even though he still had a full cup in front of him. The four standing outside were frozen in place as they watched the two inside interact. 
“Hey!” You said as you approached. The smile you had on now was so much more genuine than your usual customer service smile. “I missed you last week,”
Jason’s smile mirrored your own as he put a napkin between the pages of his book to mark his place. “Hey. Yeah, sorry, I had a last minute thing, uh, out of town, I had to do,” he had been called back to Camp Jupiter to resolve a minor god conflict and hadn’t been able to come in at his usual time. 
“Ooo, more of your mystery out-of-town work?” He’d mentioned it several times but, for obvious reasons, couldn’t tell you the whole story, and being the golden boy he was, he couldn’t bring himself to flat-out lie. “Is it something illegal?” You asked.
Jason let out a laugh at that. “It’s definitely not illegal.” He pushed his glasses back into place. 
“Are you sure? Because based on what you’ve told me, it’s out of town, it’s odd hours, it’s highly secretive, and it’s hard work.” You listed things out, counting them on your fingers. “You’re either selling drugs or possibly a secret agent.” You finished with wide, questioning eyes.
He laughed again at your list. You always had a way of putting his mind at ease. When it was swimming in work, and he couldn’t think straight, you always managed to bring him back to sanity. “It’s all boring, I promise. I’d much rather be here.” 
Your grin returned. “Oh really? I didn’t know you held our fine establishment in such high regard.” While you spoke, the cook rang a harsh bell and shouted, "Order up!”
“Thanks, Cal,” You called while you grabbed the two burger plates from the kitchen and walked them around the counter to deposit them at a table nearby. Jason watched you while you worked, the soft smile never once leaving his face as you handed out napkins and refilled some water. 
Once you were back, the conversation picked up exactly where it had left off. “It has its selling points,” he mused. The other half of that sentence, mostly about cute waitresses with the brightest smiles and the prettiest eyes, stayed caught in his throat. The pair slipped into an easy routine they’d established long ago. Jason would sit and drink his coffee while you bustled around, taking orders, running food, cleaning the occasional spill, all the while keeping up a steady stream of small talk. 
It was a mutually beneficial relationship. You got a bit of conversation to distract from the monotony of your work, and his blue eyes always seemed to make your day go smoother. Jason got a much-needed break from everything Greco-Roman. At camp, he always had so much responsibility, and so many expectations were weighing him down. Here, he didn’t have to worry about all that. You didn’t know who his dad was or what quests he’d been on, and you didn’t care. You liked him for him and not for the hero he was supposed to be. 
You returned to your spot across from him and picked up a rag to look like you were still doing something. “Have you told anyone at that camp of yours about this place?” You knew Camp Half-Blood existed. You also knew it wasn't anywhere close to normal based on the folks that came through, but they had the best strawberries even in the off-season, so you didn’t ask many questions.
“No way. Trust me, you do not want them coming here,” Jason had told you about his friends, minus a few details, but he had always emphasized that they were trouble.
“Uh huh, so then, who's staring at us from the window?” You asked with a sideways grin on your face.
“What?” Jason wiped his head around in time to see four panicked faces duck below the window sill outside. “Oh, by all the gods!” He muttered angrily under his breath and made a beeline for the door. “I’ll be right back,” he called to you, knowing you’d watch his book and half cup of coffee.
“Take your time,” you called back as he pushed open the door and stepped outside. 
For a second, all the demigods stared at each other without moving. Four crouched on the ground, wishing he hadn’t seen them, and one glaring at the group from above. Jason grabbed the front of Leo’s shirt and hoisted him up so he stood with his hands raised in surrender. “What are you doing here,” he hissed.
“Hey! Calm down, calm down,” Leo tried a friendly smile but was met with a glare. “We just, uh went for a walk?” He offered an explanation that sounded more like a question
“Wrong answer,” Jason sent his glare at the other three. “Did you all follow me?” He let Leo go and took a step back so he could glare at everyone all at once instead of having to shift his gaze.
“Leo made us come,” Piper threw him under the bus.
“Oh gee, thanks, beauty queen. It's nice to know where your loyalties lie.” Leo shot back, adjusting his shirt front.
Percy gave Jason a sly grin. “We were curious, but we never would have come if we knew you had a secret girlfriend out here,”
“She is not my girlfriend!” Jason cut him off. 
Percy put up his own hands, “Sorry, secret crush,” he corrected.
“She isn't! I don't-” Jason was full-on flustered now.
“Does that mean she’s up for grabs?” Leo asked. He looked back inside before getting smacked upside the back of the head by Annabeth. “What? She cute!”
When Jason looked back through the window he caught your eye and you sent him a questioning, yet very amused, glace. Jason had a bit of panic at that and quickly moved to usher the four away from the window and back towards the road. “Absolutely not! First of all, she’s a person; she can’t be up for grabs, and secondly, you can’t meet her!”
“What? Why not, she seems nice,” Annabeth asked.
“She is nice! And she's normal, and she doesn’t need to know any of you,” Jason managed to get them all about 10 feet from the front door. “Go back to camp. Just follow this road east for a mile, turn right at the second intersection, go straight for another half-mile, and you’ll see the border.” Jason gave the hurried directions and prayed to whichever god would listen that they’d all just leave.
“Whoa, man, we walked all the way out here, and now you're just gonna send us away?” Leo asked, putting a hand over his chest in fake offense.
“Yes,” Jason shot back flatly.
Piper spoke up next, “Wait, what’s her name? How long have you been coming here? How’d you even find this place? Does she like you back? It looked like she did.”
“Really?” Jason asked before shaking his head and focusing again. “I mean, I am not answering that,” he was still trying to shew the group away, but clearly, it wasn’t working. 
“Well, do they have good food here?” Percy added
“I saw ‘Breakfast all day’ on one of the signs,” Annabeth walked around Jason and back towards the door.
“And that burger meal she brought out looked really good,” Leo added. The four demigods went right past Jason and headed for the front door. 
“No, no, no, no, no,” Jason muttered as his friends ignored him and went in. “This is not good,” he said to himself, following the group back inside. They obviously had no intention of leaving, and he figured the next best course of action would be to simply die of shame. He knew this day would come; someone would catch him sneaking off, and his best-kept secret would become his worst nightmare. He just didn’t think it’d be so soon.
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
Ahhhh first fic in a long ass time, its not my best work but personally I liked the plot so I got a little carried away and might have to make a part 2
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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago
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hii sorry to bother you im just gonna request something for ethan landry idk if youve written for him before i havent seen. but im legit obsessed and can you do something about like him being in econ and then getting all flustered from reader sitting next to him and just talking and then after that idk you can make something up hahaha but they go to like readers dorm and SmUt and hes all whiny and subby and maybe mommy kink goirhetlghrtglrhtg :))) dhbckudhfxkd
can you tell im going a bit insane for this guy
if you cant do it its okay also i love your work so much it gets me shuddering like legit
Thank you so so much for requesting! Unfortunately, I have no clue who this character is, (i literally thought he was evan peter's character in ahs before this) so I’m sorry if anything isn’t character-consistent!
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Pairing: Ethan Landry x F!Reader
Summary: You find out that Ethan has a little crush on you.  
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some dry humping, handjob, overstimulation, f!mastrubation, mommy kink (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 4.3k
A/N: idk how this got so fucking long idek this guy. also y'all see the compliments in the request?? flattery will get you very far w me
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You walk in just as the bell rings, breathing a sigh of relief as you sit down and the professor begins his mind-numbing lecture. You place your bag on the ground and get out all the supplies you’ll need for this god-awful class. 
You’ve finished setting everything up when you realize that you’ve sat down next to someone. You try and see who it is through the peripherals of your vision, hoping you didn’t just sit next to some random person when you realize it’s him.
You’ve been going to school with Ethan for a few years now. He’s always been pretty quiet so he doesn’t have many friends. You guys are friendly, a level a bit higher than acquaintances because you’ve known each other for so long but you don’t really talk that often. You developed a crush on him back in high school. It never grew into anything more because you could never seem to hold a conversation with him... But it never fully left either because he’s still adorable.
You were shocked when you saw him in class on the first day, unable to believe that you were lucky enough to end up with him in the same class, at the same college. You try to talk to him more when you both are paired up in class but he’s not the best conversationalist. 
“Oh! Hey, Ethan! I didn’t even realize you were sitting here!” You try and be extra friendly, knowing how hard it is for him to communicate with others but you’re still met with silence. “Uh- I was almost late again! Did you see me? I got here like- just in time. Maybe I should start walking with you, you’re always on time!” You open your notebook and start taking down the notes on the board as you speak. 
Ethan is still silent. It’s getting a bit rude at this point. You thought the two of you were friendly but maybe he just doesn’t like you at all. You turn to look at him, hoping you’d get an explanation but all you’re met with is his alarmingly red face, fixated on the board. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. He has sweat lining his hairline and his back is unnaturally straight. “Hey… Are you okay? Are you sick?” Your voice is laced with concern as you speak, hoping this is the one thing he responds to. 
Ethan is trying so hard to act normal, be normal around you but he can’t. It would’ve been fine if you just hadn’t spoken to him. He could’ve easily pretended you weren’t there if he also ignored the smell of your perfume that was all but suffocating him with its ungodly sweet scent.
He’s been hard since you walked in, he always is. He can’t even help it at this point, he doesn’t try. In every class you’re in, his blood is in his dick. He used to try and prevent it, feeling like a pervert for being turned on at nothing but your presence but he’s given up. No one ever notices and he can just get off in the bathroom during lunch if he’s desperate enough. Only this time you’re sitting next to him.
He’s already leaking in his pants. 
To make it worse you were being so nice to him, too nice, and now you’re concerned about his health? Not even realizing that you’re the one who’s got him so hot, not a fever. 
“I’m- I’m fine. Thank you.” His voice is entirely flat as he speaks, trying to keep all emotion out of it in fear that you’ll be able to decipher what they mean. He doesn’t look at you, he’s scared he might cum on the spot if he does. 
You take these as signs of dishonesty. “Ethan… Are you sure?” You bring a hand up to feel his cheek, you’re so zoned into whether his skin is too warm or not, that you don't even notice when his eyes dart to your face. You move your hand to his forehead, deciding that his cheek isn’t reliable enough and your eyes meet his. 
You can hear his breath hitch at the eye contact and breaks it. It confuses you for a moment but you try and focus on the task at hand. “I don’t know, you feel kinda warm, Ethan. I don’t know if there’s a nurse on campus but we can check? I’d assume that-” 
His chest warms at your concern and he thinks it over. 
I can spend more time with her this way, and get to know her better. Can I handle spending all that time with her though? What if she notices my- Yeah. Maybe I just shouldn’t…
“Madame Late Pass?” Your eyes are already rolling into your head and you’re groaning quietly as the professor calls you out. You pull your hand away from Ethan’s face and give him the most distasteful stare you can manage. “Is there something wrong with Mr. Landry that’s distracting you from my lesson?”
“Actually sir, I think he might have a fever or something. I should probably take him to the nurse.” It’s an obvious excuse to skip his class but it isn’t technically a lie so he lets it go. You quickly pack your things up with a smile and motion for Ethan to do the same. 
You hold in your giggles until you guys are outside the classroom. “Okay! Do you wanna go to the nurse? We don’t have to- I don’t even know where it is, honestly.” Ethan is facing away from you, silent. 
Anxiety creeps in. “Hey. S- Sorry if you didn’t want to leave class. I- You could probably head back in a little bit… I should’ve asked I’m sorry. I just assumed. I mean wh- who likes econ y’know? I’m- I’m sorry.”
Your stuttering has his blushing even harder, the thought that anything he does could get any reaction out of you makes him smile. “I’m fine and I-” He lets out a light laugh that gives you butterflies “I kinda hate econ.” 
You place yourself in front of him with a huge smile. “Great! So do I, this will be great!” You lock your arms with his, a risky move, it has your heart pounding as he stiffens up with a sharp inhale but he never pulls away. You guys stroll down the corridors and talk. You have to slow your pace to keep up with Ethan and you’re doing most of the talking but you don’t mind one bit. 
You guys stop at the cafeteria for snacks and Ethan gently insists on paying, bringing the butterflies back to life and forcing a smile to your face as you thank him. You’re both sitting in a corner booth, away from most people, you’re talking and he’s squirming. 
Every few minutes he repositions himself and it was starting to get on your nerves a bit. It felt like he was uncomfortable being here, or that he was anxious for you to stop talking. You ended your story early, letting your voice die down, waiting for him to move again before questioning him. “Why are you so squirmy.?” 
He stops his movements instantly, and his eyes hesitantly look up to meet yours. “I’m not squirming.” He watches your feature turn into one of complete skepticism. “Ethan. I have eyes. If you want me to like… be quiet, or talk less or anything you can just say that. I won’t get offended or anything, I know I talk a lot.” You giggle at the end, Ethan twitches in his pants and has to suppress a whimper at the sound. 
“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, it’s okay.” He’s struggling not to press his palm into his bulge again, needing any relief after being hard for almost half an hour now. Everything you do is making it worse and he doesn’t know how to escape the situation. 
The way you keep touching him is deadly. The way you linked arms with him when walking, the way you rubbed his back and thanked him as he paid and even now, the way you’ve placed your feet right next to his under the table, something about the action has his precum soaking through his jeans.
He doesn’t notice that you finished your food already and you’re now getting up and gathering the trash. He doesn’t have time to tell you he can do it himself before you’re crossing to his side. “I can take this for-” 
His hands cover his lap but you’re already staring. He doesn’t say anything, hoping that you’re staring at his crotch for a reason other than the fact he’s hard as a rock and soaking his pants. Your head tilts in confusion before you sit down, right next to him. Your scent wraps all around him like a blanket, his eyes fall shut as he breathes in your scent, his hands subconsciously massaging his dick gently. You feel the butterflies in your stomach turn to molten lava as you watch him. 
His breathing hitches as his hands stop moving and his eyes snap open. “I’m s- I’m so sorry. I’ll-” He’s gathering the abandoned trash and getting up but you place your hand on his arm softly and pull him back down. 
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ethan. Although I’d like to know it’s um- origin.” Your heart is racing at the thought that you were the one to make him this hard, that you- just going about your day- could make him this hard. He answers you without saying anything, his face turns piping red again and he looks away. That does it. 
“Ethan, do you wanna come back to my dorm? I have something to… show you.” 
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He’s following close behind you, his shirt pulled down over his crotch and one hand in yours. You’re basically dragging him into your dorm, pressing him into the door the second he closes it. You’re leaning into him, your hands on his chest as his float awkwardly above your hips. 
“I wanna kiss you, Ethan.” He gasps sweetly at your words and leans into you instantly. 
His lips are soft and wet when they meet yours. You whine into his mouth, he moans loudly into yours in response and pulls away. “S- sorry.” His eyes are downcast and he sounds embarrassed. You couldn’t be more confused. 
“What?” You run your hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and to the back of his neck so you can play with his curls. His eyelids flutter at the action and you watch his adam’s apple jump before he speaks. 
“I don’t know. I was- I was loud. I didn’t mean to be…” You can’t help yourself. You smash his lips back into yours, forcing a beautiful moan out of his mouth, followed by a whine before you pull back. “I want you to be loud, Ethan.” 
You whisper the words to him, low and seductive. A little whimper slips out of his mouth and you kiss him again, walking backward towards your bed and he’s stumbling like Bambi as you do. 
His hands are finally on you, wrapped around your waist, trying to pull you in. You maneuver him around to push him onto the bed and straddle him. He’s moaning the moment your weight drops onto him, his hips bucking up into yours against his will and he’s apologizing again. 
You silence him with your lips, attacking his neck, and melting his words into groans and whines. You lift your weight off him, pushing onto your knees and cooing at how he whimpers and tries to follow you with his hips. You push him down to the bed, laying him out for you to admire. You run your hands down his arms, over and down his chest to the bottom of his shirt. Your eyes leave his body to check if he’s okay with this but his head is thrown back, pressing into your pillows with his knuckle between his teeth. 
“Ethan? Are you okay, honey?” A ragged half moan, half sob, shoots from his mouth as his hand leaves his mouth, gripping your arm desperately. He’s still not looking at you and his hands are shaking as they grip you.
“I-It feels s- so fucking g- good. You’re ma-aking me feel so good.” He’s incredibly breathless as his hips grind up into the air, searching for your warmth. You can feel heat explode in your stomach at his words, at his desperation from you just kissing and running your hands over his body. 
You drop your weight back onto him for a moment, to tease him and relieve yourself a bit. He rewards you with a shuddering gasp and his hands come to grip your hips as hard as they could. He can’t even get any words out as your clothed pussy slides over his sensitive cock. Your eyes are shut tight in concentration as you try not to make any noise, wanting to hear his noises instead. You grow a bit frantic in your movements, grinding on him harder, angling yourself a million different ways to try and get the perfect pressure on your clit when you feel his hand on your cheek. 
Your eyes snap open- you hadn’t even realized you closed them- and he’s pulling your lip from between your teeth with hooded eyes on you and a shy smile on his lips. “I wanna hear you too.” His voice is timid and breathy and you can tell he’s being genuine in what he says but all it does is turn you on even more. 
You moan as you dive for his lips, his hips follow yours up and his hand presses your head into his. He’s thrusting into you more forcefully, determined to cum against you but you lift your hips away from his again with a moan as he separates from your lips. “Why? I was- I don’t understand.”
He sounds like he could cry and his hips are still searching for any friction as you watch him, looking into his eyes and admiring all the emotion they hold. You can’t help the smirk that splits your face as he begins to whine for you, begging you to touch him, to make him feel good but instead, you fully remove yourself from him. You sit beside him and tell him to remove his pants, and he excitedly complies. He’s trembling beside you as you stare at the bulge in his briefs, in love with the way he’s leaking through the fabric. “Would it be okay if I touched you, Ethan?” 
You’re fixated on his bulge but you still hear the way his breathing picks up at your question. You crawl in front of him, your thighs laying over his, sitting between his spread legs with your pussy inches from his throbbing cock. Your hands run along his pelvis, tickling the skin just above the band of his underwear, and smiling at the way his stomach tenses under your minstrations. “P- Yes, please. Please- Oh-” 
He gasps prettily as you stick your hands into his underwear and pull his cock out. He hisses when it hits the cold air but falls into a moan as you start pumping him, wasting no time in getting him the pleasure he deserves.
“So. You got hard because..?” You prompt him, wanting to hear the real reason, and deciding this would be the perfect time to tease him. You’re not even sure he heard you, his eyes are still wide and staring at your hand as it glides up and down his cock, extra lubricated from all the precum his dick is spewing for you. 
You watch his face contort in pleasure, his head falling back as his eyes roll back and he begins to whine out your name on repeat. His hands start to shake and grip the sheets tighter, twisting the fabric in his fist before shouting out. “NO-”
You stopped. “Why are you- Why did you s- stop again? I was so- I was so c- close, I was gonna cum-” His voice pitches up at the end into a whine and he tries to fuck himself into your fist. You giggle at him.
“I asked you a question, baby.” He gives you a bitten-off groan at that. “You didn’t answer, which was quite rude but you do that all the time huh?” Your fingers run delicately over his length, watching it twitch as he struggles to respond. “I- don’t m-mean to.” You start jerking him off again, slowly. 
“You- You’re so pretty, I lo- I like y- you so- shit. I can’t speak- you turn me o-on.” He’s barely making sense as his hips fuck into your fist, trying to force you to get him off faster. He keeps cutting himself off with moans and debauched groans. His whole face is red, it’s spread down to his neck and up his ears too.
“I turn you on? That’s why you ignore me?” You stop again, your hand frozen in the middle of his dick. A broken wail shoots from him and his hands shoot up from the sheets to your face, pulling you in for a kiss. He’s licking up and into your mouth while letting his moans spill from his lips into yours. You’re shocked at the desperation and force of the kiss, your lips bruising themselves against his. He’s pulling at your hair gently and moaning as your tongue brushes along the inside his mouth. He pulls back and falls to your neck, whimpering quietly. 
“I can’t think- You make me so- I get so hot around you, mommy.” 
Your heart stops, every molecule in your body getting overrun with arousal at the words- at the name that just left his mouth. He’s pressing kisses into your neck and explaining himself further, as though he’s called you this before, like this is a normal thing between the two of you.
“-And everything about you just makes it so much worse. I just wanna cum for you, I want you to make m- me cum but you keep s-stopping and it hurts so much. I- please, I want you so bad, mommy.” He gasps at the end of his sentence that time and pulls his head out of your neck. 
His lips are wet , soft, and trembling, his eyes are terrified as they scan your face trying to decipher your reaction. He’s breathing fast, in a more panicked way at your silence. “I’m so sor-”
“So you want mommy to make you cum, baby?” His eyes widen with a gentle gasp but he keeps scanning your face, looking for anything that doesn’t feel genuine. His eyes lose focus though, as you begin to stroke his cock again. “I think I can do that… What do you think?” 
He’s nodding at you deliriously as his hips begin to roll themselves into your fist, his hand slides over the sheets until it finds yours and interlocks your fingers, causing warmth to bloom in your chest and stomach. You lean in to kiss his cheek as he moans your name but he turns his head so you catch his lips instead, his moans filling your mouth again. He’s barely kissing you, more like pressing his open mouth against yours, exchanging his breaths for yours as you smile at him. “That feels good, baby?”
His eyes open to meet yours and instantly roll back into his head. “Y- Mommy, don’t stop. Oh- You know it d- does. Please.” He’s interrupting with his own sounds again and his hand is wrapping around your waist, trying to pull your body closer to his. His moans are becoming more frantic and he keeps taking deep, stuttering, breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.
His bottom lip is being bitten red by his teeth, his eyelids are fluttering, struggling not to let his eyes close and roll to the back of his head. You can see his thighs tensing and jumping beside you, they press against your body, tense and stiff as his legs try to shut. 
“So cl- Mommy, I’m so- s-so- please. Oh, fuck.” His eyes snap open to meet yours pathetically. There are little tears that have gathered in his eyes and he looks so out of it, fucked out beyond belief, his head far up in the clouds. “Please don’t stop. Let-” You tilt your head at him as he collapses into a trembling sob, his hands beginning to shake where they hold you, his eyes shut again, and his eyebrows press up into each other. “Let me cum for you, let me cum f- for.”
His sentence is ruined by his orgasm and you can feel the force of it. Not by the way he all but screams your name, or by the way his body folds into yours. You can physically feel it. His cock pulses aggressively in your hand and you can feel each rope of cum work its way up his shaft and spurt out of his tip, running down your knuckles and dripping onto your bed. 
His thighs are trembling at your sides, trying to crush you as he humps your fist the best he can. He’s so loud against your neck, releasing passionate shrieks and wanton whines of your real name or your awarded one. He brings a sweaty hand to your cheek and pushes your face in his direction so he can smother your lips in his saliva, not waiting until he’s connected to your lips to start trying to taste you. You have to suppress a fond giggle at the action, letting him lick into your mouth instead. 
You’re still pumping him, trying to get out all the cum that’s been collecting in his dormant sac. His whole body is shaking now, repeated and choked moans falling into you as he crosses the line of overstimulation. You kiss him languidly and start to slow your hand, not wanting to overwhelm him too much. His fingers untangle from your hand and wrap around your other. 
He pulls away from the kiss and looks at you with hooded, clouded eyes. “I can c-cum again if-” 
He uses his hand to run yours over his shaft, jerking himself off with your hand. “If we- Can we k-keep going?” His eyes begin to cross as your hand establishes a rhythm, you’re not even doing anything, letting him get himself off with your hand. His hips are thrusting up erratically as he moves you frantically over his cock. “I wanna cum f- cum for you a-again.” 
Overcome with arousal, you slide your hand into your pants and start toying with your clit through your panties, your eyes falling shut at the pleasure. You’re already impossibly close, overly sensitive from all the neglect while being pummeled with stimulants; the way Ethan is reacting to you, his trembling body desperately pressing itself against yours, his moans, and the way he calls you mommy.
You hear his moans pick up and your eyes open back up to see his gaze between your legs before snapping up to meet yours. He stops pumping himself with your hand in favor of placing his hand over the one that rests inside your pants. He’s moving his hand in the same motions you are while you start jerking him off again, relishing in the way he’s twitching against your palm.
Ethan knows he isn’t doing anything, he knows that he’s not actually touching you but the way you moan his name makes him feel otherwise. The way you’ll moan at your own movements while his hand moves the same way, has him tricking himself into believing he’s the one making you feel good. The thought has him teetering- tipping over the edge. 
“Gonna cum.” He mumbles against your lips before dropping his head to your shoulder. You move your fingers faster over your clit, your hips beginning to cant up into your hand as your orgasm approaches. 
"Me too, honey. Fuck it feels so good, Ethan.” He moans brokenly as he cums again, thrusting weakly into your hand as his cock twitches pathetically, letting out tiny streams of cum onto your sheets. He’s gasping out a plea into your neck as he cums but you can’t make out what it is.
“-please. Oh, please. Cum, mommy. Cum. C-cum. Please cum. Fu-uck” You can’t help the way your body convulses against him or the shouting moan of his name that shoots out of your mouth as your eyes roll back. You can feel yourself soaking your panties as you shudder against him. His hand is still over yours, moving your finger over your clit in the midst of your orgasm, prolonging it as long as he can before you’re pulling your hand away and kissing him as passionately as you can. 
Both of you have your arms wrapped around the other as you guys kiss, dopey smiles on both of your faces when you pull back. He has a shy blush over his features that makes you giggle and press a kiss on the tip of his nose. You’re both lost in the moment, giggling and kissing each other, love-struck when you hear your dorm room open. “Oh god, what’s that smell?”
You hear your dormmate behind you and cover Ethan as best you can, with your body. “Sidney, fuck off!” You shout at her, hoping she’ll get the memo and leave but instead, you hear her speak again. 
“What?.. Oh eww.” You roll your eyes at her and look at Ethan, his face is red, obviously embarrassed at the presence in the doorway. 
“Oh my god! Shut up and just leave!” She finally leaves and you apologize to Ethan for the interruption. You kiss softly along his jawline and down his neck to calm him down, you fall for him the moment you pull away.
You get to see- for a moment- the face he had while you were kissing him, content and pleased, his eyes shut with a pretty little smile resting on his lips. 
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Thank you so much for reading! and thank you even more for requesting!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!
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boba-beom · 1 year ago
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ೃ⁀➷ airport crush pt 2 | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW
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pairing: brother's best friend!yeonjun x fem!reader
genre: smut, fluff, kinda angsty
wc: 3.4k
warning: angstier than I thought oops, smut with plot, arguing, yeonjun pining for reader, jealousy, possessive yj at some point, but also lowkey sub!yeonjun ngl, reader confesses about the past but yj does for the present, heavy petting, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, just the tip tease, piv but yj doesn't cum— mile high club ;) , toilet sex again, pet names (baby, good girl, good boy), praises (both), yj calls reader mommy ONCE, light marking, let me know if I've missed anything!
summary: after spending some time with your airport crush, yeonjun's pissed you were spending your time 'efficiently' with someone who isn't him. but you agreed to do anything so he wouldn't snitch to your brother about the marks on your neck.
a/n: the long-awaited next part is here, there is one more main part after this. I hope you enjoy this part just as much as yeonjun did hehe what better way to save this than for @majestyjun's 24 days with yeonjun for our jjunie's birthday! ♥
airport crush part 1 (beomgyu)
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boarding the plane was no problem, beomgyu had made you laugh in the queue–maybe even flirted–despite the slight delay, but it didn't go unnoticed by the people around you. you heard yeonjun subtly bickering with your brother, but soobin wasn't having any of it—he was too jet-lagged to even give two shits at this point. you knew this was going to be a long flight ahead of you and yet all you could think about was beomgyu and his fingers, and how bad you want him to—
you heard a ping and looked down at your phone to see beomgyu had airdropped you a note as your way of messaging each other before the plane had set off. he sent you a few memes and your scoffs would turn into chuckles until you both decided to rest and talk when you reach the airport.
it was a given that yeonjun isn't keen on whatever is going on between you and your newfound fuck buddy. yeonjun may be two years older than you, but there's something about him that you weren't aware of.
"yn? are you even listening to me?" yeonjun fakes a heartache with his palm flat on his chest while you give him a deadpan glare. "and what's happened to your 'stranger danger' policy?"
"yeonjun, I can't lie, I've developed this talent to block you out. now you're like white noise to me." you force a smile until it immediately dropped. "also, YJ, I'm not a kid anymore. I'm literally in my early twenties, chill out."
he scoffs, an annoyed smile crawling on his lips. "and I'm literally just looking out for you, how do you not see that?"
"I don't need you to look after me, m'kay? I have soobin for that. even still, just let me make my own choices." turning your body slightly, facing the window.
you couldn't care less with what he had to say. you were just pissed that it was him, and not beomgyu, sitting next to you. beomgyu was sitting a few rows down from you on the opposite site of the plane, you could just about spot the plum tinge of his hair. soobin, on the other hand, was sitting between random people in the middle section of the plane, a couple of rows in front of you and yeonjun. you weren't in their line of sight, and vice versa.
that's going to be a problem.
"you know what annoys me actually? the fact that you're so smug about this whole thing. you meet a stranger and now you feel like you've met the love of your life." you roll your eyes and take a deep breath before exhaling your frustration.
"oh boo you, is it because I managed to find someone to hook up and have fun with before this holiday even started?" you retort, refusing to look at him, bearing in mind that there are a few people sleeping around you.
"oh for fucks sake, yn, grow up." you hear him exhale.
you scoff. "me? no, yeonjun. you, grow the fuck up. I'm sick and tired of whatever problem it is you have with me."
raking his hands through his hair, he looks up before placing a hand on your knee, “listen here, little miss princess, stop being a fucking brat, you’re so annoying like that.” but what you don’t know is that it's slightly turning him on, knowing how hot-headed you can be, he secretly loves how argumentative you two are and he sort of thrives off of that. he had no intention for it to take a turn like this though.
you stare at him, eyes steady, narrowing and not wavering even a little bit. “and you’re starting to piss me off, choi.” you unbuckle the seatbelt over your hips, your hand pushing off his from your thigh before passing his legs to scoot yourself to the aisle, catching soobin's sleeping form and making your way to the toilet at the end of the plane.
from beomgyu’s peripheral vision, he turns his body to look back, watching you make your way to the toilet and noting the dull look on your face. his eyes trailed behind you to find yeonjun who looked like he was chasing after you. he sits back comfortably, sighing and rolling his eyes from the thought of what yeonjun must have done to piss you off this time.
yeonjun knocks on the door and calls your name softly a couple of times, “let me in. come on, talk to me.”
you sigh, not wanting people to continue watching him knocking on the door, and for all they know you two look like you’re in some sort of lovers quarrel. he quickly enters as soon as you open the door, and you scoot aside as an attempt to make space for his six foot figure.
“and you couldn’t just leave me alone? how embarrassing.” you huff, crossing your arms against your chest, but due to the close proximity, you can feel his breath fanning by your neck.
“you want to talk about embarrassing? how about hooking up with a stranger at the airport? hmm?” he retorts, slightly raising his voice at you.
you cover his mouth to remind him to keep his voice down.
“what the fuck is this obsession about me hooking up with beomgyu. just say you’re jealous and go, oh my god, yeonjun." you aggressively whisper.
your chest heaves from the anger gradually coming out, and if you weren't in a plane right this moment then yeonjun would definitely get a taste of your wrath. it was silent for a moment with the both of you holding this intense eye contact with a hint of something unspoken. yeonjun breaks away first, turning around as much as he can with his hand back to running through his teal strands.
"I am." is all he mutters.
"you are what?" you exasperatedly rub at your temples with your eyes shut in the hopes that he'd just be straight with you.
"I am jealous." he starts. "god, all this time I tried to avoid the littlest thoughts about you, and now that you've grown up to be such a confident, intelligent and beautiful woman it's kind of hard not to be around you."
your head shoots up, almost breaking your neck at his confession. a million things were going on in your head but not a single thought was stable enough to comprehend that your crush throughout your childhood and teenage years had liked you all this time.
it took you so long to get over him, and after being completely over him for two long years, he's thrown away all your efforts.
"I... hate you." your voice breaks, tears threatening to run down your cheek, tired of his stupid games.
the warmth of his body starts radiating even more, feeling him lean closer than you already were. your eye contact lasts for less than a second until he crashes his lips on yours with his hands desperately fumbling with your arms and throwing it over his shoulders before finding purchase on your waist.
the kiss was messy. nothing but teeth clashing and heavy breaths until yeonjun swiftly swaps places with you and hits your back against the door, hard enough for it to just rattle gently.
"you don't hate me." yeonjun whispers before diving in to capture your lips again.
the pace of the kiss was starting to pick up; his hands gradually lifting your shirt until his hands were massaging and roaming over the mounds of your breasts through your bra, whining from the contact, and your fingers tangling themselves in his dishevelled hair.
you let out soft whimpers as soon as his plush lips peppers along the column of your neck, a heated trail over the hickeys that beomgyu had left before.
"I hate you so much," you whine.
"you look so hot marked up, too bad this area's been marked by someone else." he growls in your ear, while his hands busy themselves by tugging down your sweatpants.
the material of your sweatpants fell just above your knees and that was enough for yeonjun to slide his fingers into your panties, roughly circling your clit with his middle finger, making your core twitch with every circle he drew.
"oh fuck, jjun—" a moan got stuck in your throat while yeonjun went back to attacking your lips with soft nibbles on your bottom lip.
his lips descended down your body, from your neck, littering kisses over your breasts, down your navel and straight to your plush thighs. his finger stopped working on you and instead, grabbing ahold of one of your thighs to prop over his shoulder so he could kiss and suck on your inner thighs.
"you should be marked more often, only where I can see them." after leaving a mark on your skin, he sensually flicks his tongue on the surface, giving you a preview on what his tongue could be used for.
"shut up and eat me out already." you lace your fingers in his hair, tugging on them to inflict minor pain.
yeonjun's dick throbbed from the way you explicitly said that aloud, never thinking he'd hear you say that.
his hands steadied your hips, holding on tightly and kitten licking at your clit. the wet muscle twirling around your bundle of nerves had you holding in your moans, letting out airy grunts as an attempt.
"so sweet." yeonjun draws back before diving his face straight into your core, sticking his tongue out and lapping up at your entrance. you could feel the vibrations from his moans as soon as he sticks his tongue into your slick cunny. it was difficult to not get so wet when yeonjun's lips felt like heaven on yours, and you felt like your soul was ascending when they were all over your body.
"YJ— fuck, did you know I— mmh, liked you back then?" you struggle getting your sentence out when yeonjun's basically tongue fucking your pussy.
he ignores your question and groans against your core, his tongue reaching as far as it can inside you, but every time his nose bumped your clit you'd curl in a little. annoyed, you tug his hair back so he's looking up at you, the dim light in the toilet reflecting the sheen layer of spit and your arousal on his lips and dripping down his chin.
"I asked you a question."
he grabs your wrist, shaking off your hold on his roots and brought the back of your fingers to his lips. "I knew." and then he inserted your index and middle fingers past his lips, feeling his tongue dancing between and around your digits.
you could moan at the sight, knowing that he probably knows those are the two fingers you used to fuck yourself to the thought of him.
"then why didn't you say anything? do you know how hard I wanted you to notice me?" you almost whine.
"oh trust me, I always noticed you." he guides your fingers at your dripping entrance. "I didn't want to make a move because you're my best friend's little sister. Soobin would fucking kill me if I thought about you like that, hell, he'd kill me if he finds out I'm eating you out several rows away from him."
you wince at his choice of words, but more so when he flat tongues your clit while controlling your fingers pumping in and out of you. but it wasn't enough.
"jjun, I need more." you quietly cry behind the palm of your hand, trying to keep your cries at bay.
he sucks at your bead until a quick yelp slipped past your lips, grabbing him by the collar of his quarter-zip and pulling him up to kiss you. the taste of your arousal lingered on your tongue as he plays around with yours.
this was something you had wet dreams about. something that you desperately wanted every time you saw him come over. the things you would think about when he'd bring his then-girlfriends around when he was hanging out with soobin.
"please, I want to feel a little more." you hate to beg, but you were thinking, you're already in this situation, why not go the extra mile?
"of course, baby. anything for you." he switches up so easily now that he's confessed to you, wondering that all this time he could have been bearable if he had just told you, even if you were to keep it between yourselves, he would have been so much easier to deal with.
yeonjun spreads his wet kisses along your jaw and behind your ear, imitating your quiet moans as you continue to unzip his loose jeans, pulling them down just below his balls.
as he strokes his length, you lean your head against his shoulder, looking down and observing how pretty his dick is; the pink tip that's a similar tone to his lips with a clear bead of pre-cum dribbling out slowly. not to mention his girth was perfect to the point you could feel yourself aching to have him inside you.
"should I just put the tip in?" yeonjun mumbles by your temples.
he aligns the head of his cock at your entrance, feeling the faint stretch as it dips inside. you sigh, wanting more but he purposely slides it against your folds an swiping over your clit. the motion had you exhaling your breath that you had been subconsciously holding in ever since he was stroking himself.
"yeonjun, please. I want you inside of me." you beg so prettily that yeonjun could feel his dick twitch in his hand, his eyes tightly shut briefly.
"want you to feel good." his sentences have now reduced to wanting to please you, he didn't care about himself, though you're about to wet his dick, he was still doing whatever you wanted.
you hold onto his shoulders, one leg wrapped around his hip as he pushes in, feeling the delicious stretch against your walls. "gonna. fuck. you. so. good." he grunts in between shallow thrusts.
his hands are glued to your hips and under your thigh, holding you in place for him to fuck in this small compartment. but that doesn't stop him from eagerly reaching as deep as he can inside you. his thrusts get deeper after every other kiss you leave on his neck and collar bone, loving the way your lips makes his skin tingle.
the speed of yeonjun's thrusts get faster, and the hold your pussy has on his cock gets tighter. he has his eyes trained on your face, watching your brows knit and your mouth parting.
"mmhh yeah, that's it baby, right there." you moan by his ear and his pace picks up gradually. he loves the way you want more of his dick, not beomgyu's, but his.
the corners of his lips quirked up at the thought of you forgetting about beomgyu and wanting him at that moment. yeonjun wanted to take this chance to show you he could fuck you better than whatever beomgyu did.
"like that?" he whispers, pulling up your shirt and bra so your boobs were on full display.
he gawked at the sight of your bare chest in front of him, his hips not faltering a single bit; still aiming to make you cum on his dick. it took him no second thoughts to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, sucking and releasing with 'pop' sounds and repeating as he hears more of your mixture of moans and whimpers.
you loved the sensation of yeonjun's tongue and pillowy lips on your boobs, but his dick was starting to drill into you, feeling your mind going hazy with every stroke against your gummy walls.
"I'm close." you whimper above him, his lips still suckling at your aroused nipple and the other massaging it in the palm of his hand.
"wan' you to cum around me mommy." his words were muffled from his occupied mouth, but the slight rasp in the way he said it was ticking your orgasm closer by the millisecond.
yeonjun lets go of your boob and starts playing with your clit again, his thrusts doesn't falter even when you clench around him like a vice, your walls convulsing around him. your moans were becoming dangerously loud, and if it wasn't for yeonjun swallowing your moans by helplessly kissing you, then you were sure you would have a flight attendant knocking at the door.
your thighs start shaking under his hold as you leak down your legs but yeonjun pulls out, his cock still standing strong as reaches for the tissues to clean up your mess.
"feel better?" he wipes down the remaining droplets by your knees, before throwing the tissue away and tucking his hard dick into his baggy jeans.
you cock your head to the side, "you didn't cum?"
"it's okay, just wanted to make you feel good, remember? you were about to transform into a dragon out there with all your huffing and puffing. and even though I got my dick wet, at least it was by you." you slap his shoulder light-heartedly, scoffing at his comment before you both bursted into a shared laugh.
"you were irritating me that's why." you reply. "and you really are just that obsessed with me huh? that why your temper went down too?"
you watch him check up on himself through the mirror, relaying a slow nod to you. noting the faint couple of hickeys you left just under his collar, it's as if he knew what you were thinking and he zipped up his quarter-zip a little higher than before. he seemed more peaceful now, and you found it cute that the tip of his ears were blushing pink.
"I am obsessed with you. literally can't stop thinking about you." his hand reaches for your waist and brings you closer until your chests collide.
"okay, lover boy. take it easy on the simp talk." he scoffs, but the smile he has on his face seems like he's satisfied even when you haven't said how you currently feel towards him.
"can I have another kiss? literally miss your lips already." he kisses your shoulder slowly, maybe leaving two or three. something about that gesture made your heart drop.
you were selfish. you just met beomgyu who you have a good feeling about. but that isn't enough for you apparently. you have yeonjun wrapped around your finger and the fact that he's obsessed with you just as much as you were for him just feeds that emptiness you'd been feeling for so long.
"yn? you know you can say no." you snapped out of your thoughts and didn't realise there was a gap, as much as there can be, between you and yeonjun.
"kiss me." your hands are splayed flat on his chest, caressing the area with your thumb as he cups your cheek with one hand and pulls you in by the hip with the other.
your lips have only kissed three people in your lifetime. your first kiss in freshman year college, beomgyu and now yeonjun. but you seem just as in need of his lips as he is with yours. they were perfect and pouty. soft but also dangerously addictive. and the way he lets you lightly trap his bottom lip between your teeth just makes you want him even more.
you both pull away, a short string of saliva fallen from your lips which has yeonjun's eyes filled with lust for you.
"I- I think we should head out. we're lucky it isn't a full plane." you stutter from the gaze he had on you just a second before.
"it's fine. we'll never see these people again." yeonjun chuckles at you for your attempt at discretion. "and I don't think they cared enough to stop us."
you shrugg at his response, adjusting your shirt even though it still wasn't going to miraculously cover the hickeys beomgyu left.
as soon as you open the door, you step out first and yeonjun stepping out after with him faking a cover up conversation for the people you would walk past to hear, "are you feeling better now?"
you find your row and take your seat, nudging him, "oh shut up." and he laughs at your response.
you genuinely did feel better after the released tension, but now you just don't know how you're going about this sticky situation you were in. you see beomgyu slowly turn his head and you keep an eye on his purple hair until he looks at you, shooting you a smile.
and you still felt your heart skip a beat for him.
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1K notes · View notes
theauthorunicorn · 1 year ago
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1 A.M. | Gojo Satoru
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an unmistakable angst festering within me that I need to let out.
note: if i was to be asked what type of drabbles, fanfic that i could and would read in my lifetime, I'll choose angst, that undescribed feeling that you wanted to punch the wall and angrily shout at someone. anyway, enjoy! reblogs, comments and like is really appreciated :)
not proof read
word count: 1128 word (wow)
Gojo Satoru x Reader
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆
Satoru can't be explained in few words, if you can describe him, you'll be lost in your own words. Before, there were days that you only look at him, afar, adoring and silently loving him. But, for the past few years he is, was yours and you were his.
It didn't take long for him to fall in love with you, with his best friend out of the picture you gladly fill out the empty vastness within him. Shoko was there as well but you gave him the kind of attention that he needed that time.
For the past few months, you've been noticing the distance between the two of you. You assured yourself that you may be feeling this way since you've never seen each other and spent time together. Satoru also promises that the missions had been taking him to places and made him tired, so he'll just stay on his apartment to rest and will see you soon - this promise were also accompanied by mumbled I miss you and whispers of I love you's.
Late Saturday evening you're both watching the TV. You leaned comfortably in the sofa scanning the channels to land on a perfect show while Satoru was laying on your lap maybe asleep.
A long sigh broke the silence, "I'm sorry," you lowered down the volume, "I just can't find a good show."
He hummed in agreement, "Nah, your good." He said as he traced line over your skin.
"Do you think I changed?" Satoru asked without looking at you.
"What do you mean? Physically or what?" You played together with his antics.
"I mean, you spent a lot of time waiting for me and then I'll just call or text you that I will not be coming or even ditching our dates just because I was busy."
He noticed it too, "Uhm, I guess I understand your tired and missions had been longer and tiring, you know, so, I also try to understand it." You answered him.
"I just want you to know Y/N that I still feel the same way as when I first met you." He muttered. You can see that his trying to give you the assurance through his words that he can't physically show you.
But how long can you stay.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆
You're both standing face to face as you bit your lips as you hold on to your tears, "You know what Y/N sometimes, no, honestly you suffocate me!" Satoru shouted, "How many times did I told you that we were just out drinking and you're here at my house demanding why I did not spend time with you instead? I do get a chance to choose how I spend my time right? I did not sign up for being with you all the time. Fuck, you're so annoying and clingy."
Long arguments with Satoru had been frequent. You're hurt, his word hurt, his gaze towards you hurts everything right now with Satoru hurts. You look at him trying to compose yourself if you should yell at him too, slap him, punch his pretty face, or just say -
"I'm sorry Satoru," you sighed, "I should not come here and demand your attention," you said slowly, "Yeah, missions and stuff is always the priority, right? We need to do that. I understand and I'm really sorry about -"
He looked at you without any emotions, maybe even regret about earlier instead of stopping he continues, "I hate that sometimes I get sick of you, Y/N. Fuck." He curses. The last words he said was so cruel and potent.
"I'm sorry again, Gojo." You look at him one last time trying to hold your tears. "I better get going, you need to rest." You walked away from him with a deep sigh and tears falling on your cheeks. It's one a.m. he should be asking you to stay and fix this mess, but he didn't. You walked away from the man that you loved the most that you let him break your heart a thousand pieces.
Thirty minutes passed you arrive in your apartment you phone pings, "Text me if your home, Y/N." You read it as tears falling in your screen. You left Gojo on read.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ��� ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆
You avoided Gojo after that night like a plague. Shoko asked you if everything was fine since Gojo had been asking about you through her. You simply smiled at her with hollow eyes and said that you just had a small argument with him, and everything is fine.
You lied to Shoko, and she knows that too.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆
A week after that night you are avoiding Gojo had come to an end. A meeting was arranged to all staff to discuss an important matter. You tried to prolong your current mission to miss the meeting but -
"The meeting won't start without you in it." Shoko said softly over the phone.
"Why?" You chuckled, "It's not that I'm that important. You can just take note the minutes and pass it along."
"Yeah, I tried to stall them, but everyone is here waiting for you. Nanami is annoyed why your ass is still not here, Y/N."
"Fuck." You curse, "I don't want to be there, -"
"Are you coming or not?" Satoru asked you as he snatched Shoko's phone, that's only the reason why you're hearing his voice after a week.
You sighed, "I am. I'm just finishing this. Tell them to give me 15 minutes and I'll be there." You answered plainly.
"Where are you? I could come and get you instead."
"No, no need. I'm done." You end the call.
You were panting as you run across the Jujutsu Tech. You know you're a mess, hair in a messy bun, a cut on your cheeks, a bruise in your arm and thighs.
You opened the door and all eyes on you, "This meeting better be so important that you all required me to sit in after a fucking mission." You rolled your eyes and grab the nearest chair to sit between Nanami and Shoko.
Gojo stood up and walked towards you, "Are you even okay, Y/N. We could let Shoko check you first -"
"No, I'm not okay Gojo," you hissed at him, "just fucking start this meeting so I could rest." You tried to smile sweetly at everyone.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆
"You are calling Satoru, Gojo is not heard for years, babe. What happened?" Shoko asked as you let her tend your injuries at her clinic.
"I'm just tired and that meeting could have been an email, you know, Kento even agrees." You motion to Nanami sitting across.
"And humor me, why Satoru is off limits here? He's like a stray cat outside waiting for you."
"Let him be."
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆
You walked out and thanked Shoko for her assistance. True to her words Gojo was there sitting like a stray cat waiting for you. You did not acknowledge his presence and walk on the opposite way to which he was sitting. He noticed you while closing the door but the lack of attention to him proves that you're not really talking to him.
Instead, he followed you through the halls of Jujutsu Tech and stopping as well when your students stopped and said hi to you.
"Y/N-sensei, how are you?" Nobara asked, "I heard that you were hurt, and they still let you attend a meeting." She pouted.
"I'm fine." You assured her, "and were still watching that movie tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay sensei, and why is Gojo-sensei following you like a lost cat." She whispers. You shrugged and smile and continue walking.
You can still hear his steps following you. You completely ignored him. You wanted to do this to let him taste his own medicine. You stopped your tracks and grabbed your phone to call a cab.
Gojo snatched your phone, "I already called one. Let's just wait for our ride here."
"What do you mean our ride? I'm going home to rest, I'm tired." You demand him to hand your phone back.
"Yeah, were going home -"
"What the fuck, Gojo." You snarled at him.
"It's Satoru, Toru, babe or baby for you, love." He corrected his own name.
"You're so self-centered, you know that don't act like you fucking love me when you fucking told me about many nights before that you're re sick of me, that I'm so annoying and you're tired. I'm tired right now so can you please leave me."
"I know I was self-centered that night and I got so mad and lost my cool but it's because I'm just tired. I wanted to talk to you, but you avoided me like a plague, I don't even know what you were up to. I had to check with Shoko or Nanami to check what are you doing. I hate myself for saying such cruel things to you, you know it's not true right? You know that I feel the same way for you every day, even if I failed to show it to you, it's still the same. My heart aches when I think about you. The things that I have said - I'm really sorry, love."
"How much longer do you want me to be in pain, Gojo?" You asked him.
"It's Satoru even if you're mad at me," he shakes his head, "what? I don't want you to be in pain."
Gojo saw your pretty eyes saying that everything is over, you and he are done but he denies it. Your indifferent now, cold and as if you're digging a grave to bury all the memories that you had with him. Gojo still denies it.
"We're done. I'm breaking up with you and you don't get a chance to say anything after what I've been through. I think about this for a past couple of days, Gojo. I'm done with you, I'm not sorry for this."
Gojo Satoru remained on his foot as he watched you walking away. Although all of him is breaking down because of you he doesn't have anything as of now to let you stay. But he knows deep down in this life, journey and world in which nothing last forever -
It's only you for him.
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bun-z-bakery · 9 months ago
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(Repost from my abandoned account) these are just my personal head canons for dogday. this is a survivor au
(All characters are over 18 btw)
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-dogday sometimes has dog like tendencies, like growling, barking etc.
-he doesn't remember a lot about his life as a worker but will share stories he remembers of his human life once you two become close.
-man is like a love sick puppy. First you save him? Give him legs? AND a home?! And his friends are here too?! You really are his angel.
-he's very protective of his angel. He can't have anyone take them away or even hurt them. Plus all those years locked away, he can't loose you, you're his hope.
-this man will most certainly plan his confession, script and all. Maybe you're away at work and this is something he's been working on for a while. He's always bringing you little gifts on his hunting trips (depending on if you like to collect rocks and such) but this dude went out of his way to find the best of the best. Even somehow found flowers beautiful enough to almost rival your beauty, keyword: almost.
-he enjoys spending time with you, poppy and kissy, he enjoys playing outside with you three, even if you guys have been out of the factory for years already. They still enjoy the outside world.
-I know bro is huge, like dude is taller than an American door way (according to some measurements fans have made, hes 9'5) if you're a shorty (like me 5 feet even😭) he will most definitely pick you up and carry you like a dogtoy. He likes the feeling of carrying his angel, it gives him a sense of pride doing so. Even if you accidentally hit the ceiling or he needs to really get down so you don't hit the top of the doorframe, he will always apologize or joke about it.
-he's a cuddler, he LOVES cuddling! He has his own giant dog bed in your shared room, but he prefers to sleep on your shared bed. If you're away from work and he's eepy, he'll pass out on your bed because it smells like you. Your scent keeps him at bay until you come home. Poor guy will shoot up and push anyone out of his way to be the first to get to you! He sits there on the floor waiting for his mandatory headpats and kisses as soon as he hears your keys.
-it takes his brain a few minutes to properly turn on. After all those years he finally gets proper sleep, I can imagine you waking up first and getting ready for the day to prepare breakfast for the group and you poke him, trying to wake him. He'll mumble some random stuff about not letting rats do taxes then fall back asleep only to be woken again by your pokes still talking nonsense. I can also see him sometimes waking up confused, you know like when you wake up your parents and they're mad for no reason asking what's wrong while gasping for air? (Just me?) I can see him being THAT dead asleep bhahsha
-my take on the survivor au is more of a modern take (as in yes the factory closed years also but reader is possibly in early to late 20s sometime in 20xx / non specified year) so they weren't an employee but probably knew someone like a family member who worked there or was dared to enter the factory (we'll see if I ever post my fanfic haha as these hcs kinda tie into that story) so dogday being alive in the 80s or 90s he probably has like the old school idea of love and attempts to swoon you as such. The flowers, cheesy pick up lines.
-I can imagine because he's not up to date with the newer terms and he might be confused while trying to seem cool haha. "Angel what does rizzler mean?" (Poor peepaw)
- Personally I love the theory that DogDay is an ex worker aka Rich. Which is probably why he was the leader of the smiling critters. Because he was mature enough to make sure everyone was in line/well behaved, I also think some other workers were turned into the mascots too (obviously) but maybe they trusted Rich more so they just threw him into the dance circle and hope that he'd be a good leader.
- this one ties into the first one btw! I like the think that maybe he was one of the mascots when he worked there. Like a guy in the costume who worked with the kids (hence the zipper, how else would the workers get into the bigger body suits?)
- I like to think DogDay likes when Angel calls him by his old human name. Maybe once he opens up more about his human life (or at least bringing up some of the memories he still has) he just randomly brings up his name when talking about a memory and hearing Angel repeat his name back, he'd probably like hearing it. It might make him feel like less of a monster in a sense. Granted I think he wouldn't care about what Angel calls him but he would most definitely prefer for them to alternate. Like you know when someone makes you mad and you use their real name instead of their nickname? He'd hate for his Angel to get mad, especially at him. But when living with 3 other people it can get a bit hectic.
"DogDay! Did you bring mud into the house?!"
"N-No!... "
*silence*
"RICH, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
*footsteps are heard and DogDay bolts out the door*
- Now this head canon I have can go either one of two ways, right? Hear me out. Listen up, listen carefully, and listen closely. (Lmk if you got that reference) ok so back to the zipper! I think the zipper just opens to his organs tbh like the zipper was just left functional in case he needed to be "repaired internally". BUT another thought, I also can see there being some sort of barrier! You know those stuff animals who have their stuffing blocked by a barrier so it doesn't fall out but the zipper opens to a compartment where you can store items? I kinda think that's whats there tbh, I mean it makes sense. What if one of the kids opened the zipper by mistake? Surely there would be a barrier just in case.
- as I mentioned in the last hc post, I can see him trying to swoon Angel in the old romantic type of way. I can see him pinning after Angel hard, at first they wouldn't get the hint, they'd probably think he's thinks he's indebted to them for rescuing them and giving the 3 of them a better and new life. But quickly they realize bro is in love. Of course poppy teases him about it too at some point lol. He doesn't really try to hide it either. I can see poppy and kissy thinking it's sweet and first then they get annoyed once you're the only thing he talk about lol.
- You're married. That's all! No but I can see in his mind you two are basically married. He'd probably want to have new custom star collars made for both of you or maybe even a ring for you and a matching collar or something for him to wear and propose. Of course it will bother him a bit because he can't go out with you, take you on dates or show you off but he trusts you (even though he gets jealous when you smell like someone else) he basically tries his best with what you guys have (If only there was a holiday that came once a year where you guys could go out dressed in customs without looking like freaks).
- He looks like the type of guy who would love pasta. I'm not sure why or how this even came into mind but I just feel like that's what he often wants for dinner. Poppy would probably eat fruit for dinner, kissy isn't really picky, but Dogday would probably be asking for either pasta or meat. Also I think Angel would be hesitant to feed certain foods to Dogday because you know, he's a dog (not really but hear me out) but because he acts like one at times I could see Angel being like haha nope you can't eat this!
*Angel eating chocolate cookies*
"May I have some?" *cutely pouts*
"I don't want you dying, love."
"You know I'm not actually a dog...right?"
ok ok you got me there" (they just really didn't wanna share lol)
- tbh this is more of a general head canon for the toys but I seeing as they had to resort to c*nnibalism. They clearly need food and water to survive. I think catcap was probably keep Dogday alive as a "lol now look at you now, look at me" (yes that's a BP reference) moment but only feeds him when he felt like it, since food is basically scarce in that place. I think that their human organs were transferred over but little things like veins, teeth, tongue, blood vessels basically anything that's not a major organ was made artificially and connected in a sense to those major organs making them function as such.
Yeah that's kinda it lol, there might be some more parts to this if I can think of anything else! But yeahhh that's kinda my hc and rambles lol (I tend to ramble a lot especially when I have to give context, I apologize!)
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taurasiscntybun · 1 month ago
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Bite Bargains pt 1
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-Vampire DT x reader
-DARK romance 18+ minors dni
- 2,900 words
-Warnings: Mention of murder, adult language, morally dubious
-Warnings for the series as a whole: murder, gore, morally dubious, dubious consent, public sex, adult language, graphic description of sex, bdsm, dom/sub dynamics, impact play, breath play, blood play, oral sex, bondage, strap on, temperature play, praise/degradation
-Thanks to my editor as always @taurasicomplex
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Diana’s Pov
Tonight was an exciting night for Diana, it was her night of indulgence. She paced the length of the locker room, her cool skin buzzing with excitement. Tonight she’d choose her next victim, although she hated to call the girls that. She’d had the same routine for nearly a decade now, ever since she was turned in Russia; year round she only drank the blood of animals but it wasn’t enough to sustain her so once a year she chose a human to drink from. Diana nervously protracted and retracted her fangs as they practically ached in hunger. She always chose a fan and tonight was no different, she’d meet and whoo a young woman, give them the night of their life and then feed from them; while she never relished in the idea that she was technically a serial killer, it was something she just had to do.
“Calm down Dee, you know you shouldn’t get so worked up before the game, that’s what got you ejected last year.” Called BG; she was the only person that knew Diana's secret and now she begrudgingly kept her best friend in line, even if it meant helping her dispose of bodies on occasion.
”It’s been too long, I waited too fucking long.” Diana snarled and slammed the locker door, the metal dented where her hand gripped it.
”You’re the one that wanted to wait until after the Olympics.”
“Yeah well you should have told me it was stupid, I’m going fucking crazy, I can smell all of you, even your fucking blood smells good right now.” Brittney raised an eyebrow, unconcerned by Diana’s words, while it was never particularly safe around a vampire, BG had been around Diana long enough to know the last person's blood she wanted was hers.
”Maybe I should be flattered then since you usually feel the need to fuck someone before drinking.” BG took a long sip of her Gatorade and started lacing up her shoes.
”I don’t have to fuck while drinking but it’s usually arousing, makes me feel like I’m on fire.” Diana started her pacing again, already dressed and ready for the game. She wasn’t wrong, Diana liked to play with her food. Nothing was sweeter than a woman’s blood right after an orgasm.
”I wish you wouldn’t, I'm a little sick of finding you naked and dripping blood, I mean you could at least put a towel on before you call me.” B snorts a laugh and stands up from the bench with a languid stretch. Diana just scoffed in response and snatched up her water bottle.
“Are you going to be ok to play Dee? I mean for real?” BG crossed the locker room to stand beside Diana and wrapped a hand around her arm, the freckled skin cold to the touch. Diana took a breath, while technically she didn't need to breath it helped her look more human. She hadn’t changed much from the transformation, at least looks wise. She was still slightly tan and freckled, the few lines and wrinkles she’d earned in her decade in the Arizona sun had stayed but no new ones formed. To the world she looked like an impeccably aged forty two year old but really she was still in her mid thirties. Diana took another long breath and closed her eyes to compose herself.
”I’ll be fine, I just need to get this game over with and find someone to take back to the hotel, I’m glad we get to stay in Chicago a few days.” Diana jumped up and down a few times to get the nervous energy out. She liked to pick her victims at away games, especially in a city with a high murder rate. Chicago was excellent for that, and lucky for her they had two games in Chicago this week, meaning they got to stay the two days in between.
“Did you get the extra sheets and trash bags?” B said casually as if discussing the weather and not disposing of a corpse.
“Yeah yeah they’re already in my room, I paid the extra to have my own room this time so I’m not sharing with you, you're welcome by the way.” Diana shot her a smile and started for the door, she’d already been away from the rest of the team long enough; her and BG had said they needed to talk privately but the rest of the team was nosy and she knew they wouldn’t wait much longer before looking for them. B walked out after her, a grim resolve on her usually cheerful face. It upset Diana the most that Brittney was so affected by this, after her transformation Diana had lost parts of her humanity, while she knew killing people wasn’t right there wasn’t much guilt with it, only guilt that BG was involved. Diana had kept most of her personality although she was quicker to anger and always simmered with an undercurrent of menace. She always had so much pent of aggression and energy, it probably came from her being half starving all the time but she had promised BG she’d only kill one person to eat a year and she held herself to that promise even though she didn't know what difference a few more would make.
“You have me a key though right? For if you're.. uh.. not in a state to answer the door?” Brittney asked her as they walked to meet the team in the bigger locker room, they only had a little more than an hour before the game and they were going to warm up’s soon.
“Yeah of course. Waiting for you at the front desk.” Diana answered and her demeanor shifted. She rolled her shoulders and everything changed, she looked approachable, friendly; not like the predator she’d looked earlier. Diana waved to everyone as she jogged out for warm ups. While still friendly Diana had retreated from meeting with as many fans, while the team used her health as as excuse the real reason was Diana’s quirks. She was cold to the touch, her skin usually around room temperature, her breathing was usually irregular and most unsettling her lack of heartbeat. The less people that touched her or spent long periods of time with her the better. At games she finally felt free enough to interact with people, the heat of the arena making up for her lack of heartbeat. Tonight she was extra friendly of course, she’d pick a fan, someone alone, and someone enamored with her. This was part of the ritual, part of the chase, finding and hunting the perfect girl seemed to quell not only Diana’s thirst but also some primal instinct. Diana made her rounds speaking with fans, as the away team there was always less but Diana could count on a few at every game. She glanced beside her and saw BG mingling with fans as well, she felt a pang of grief for her friend, knowing B was there to check on her. After Diana took a few more pictures with fans she turned to the bench. Her eyes zeroed in on the woman looking for her seat courtside.
“Oh it’s going to be you.” Diana grinned
Reader pov
“One two three four five six seven!” You say softly and sit in your seat. You push your purse under the seat and look around grinning. You’d saved up for courtside tickets, as a Phoenix fan in Chicago you didn’t get many opportunities to watch your favorite team play; so you’d happily paid the money for a front row view.
“Holy shit!” You exclaim in a hushed voice, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone; excited to show off your seats.
“Nice jersey!” You hear someone say and you glance up from your phone to see Diana only a few feet away. You look down at the jersey you’re wearing, it’s hers from her rookie year, the famous red era; you’d hunted eBay for months to find it.
“Oh uh thanks, personally I think you guys should go back to the little collars.” You adjust the small collar detail on your jersey dramatically, hoping to make her crack a smile.
“Oh but I don’t miss the polyester.” Diana huffs a laugh. “I have to say I’m shocked any of those jerseys are still around.” You look down at worn Jersey; it definitely showed its age, the numbers and lettering were starting to crack.
“Well it wasn’t easy to find.” You look and and blink in shock at how close she’d gotten so quickly. Diana stood directly in front of you, an easy smile on her face.
“Why’d didn’t you just buy a jersey from the store?” She leaned on the scorers table to your left and watched you; and you couldn’t help but feel like prey under her gaze.
“Oh I wanted a special one, I don’t want the one everyone has, where’s the fun in that?” You huff in response as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“How bout I give you a real special one? After the game you can have this one.” Diana says and tugs up the corner of her warm up tee to show you the white jersey underneath.
“Wait what seriously?” You ask and laugh excitedly, unable to keep the giddiness from your voice. Diana just grins at you, her gaze almost predatory.
“Meet me around back at the players entrance after the game and I’ll give it to you, I’ll have a security guard show you.”
“Oh wow, uh thank you so much Miss Taurasi.” You say and bob your head.
“Please just call me Diana, or Dee, Miss Taurasi makes me feel like a teacher or something.” Diana stuck her tongue in mock distress.
“Thank you so much Dee.” You amend and she nods.
“Well I’ll see you after the game Angel, enjoy.” Diana smacks the scorers table and stands up straight, she shoots you a wink and jogs onto the court.
“What the fuck.” You mutter and stare down at your lap in shock. You watch them warm up with rapt attention, your eyes drifting to Diana of course; she was moving with a lethal grace tonight, each of her shots dropping through the basket like a bullet. You tried to not be so obvious in your staring, but your eyes always seemed to be watching Diana’s muscles ripple under her freckled skin, her precise control over her movements. She was breathtaking to watch, like standing in front of the cage of a tiger as they paced. You decide if you’re going to get through the game tonight you’d need a drink. You bend down and rummage through your purse, pulling out your wallet; you shove it and your phone in the pocket of your skirt and make your way through the budding crowd to the bar. After a successful cocktail purchase you head back to your seat. During the rest of the warm up you feel Diana’s eyes on you whenever you look away, her gaze feeling invasive as she studies you. You know she’s looking, you turn your head in time to catch her but she doesn’t turn away, she just grins, her slight dimple poking out.
“Shit. I’m in trouble” you laugh to yourself softly and take a long sip of your drink. For an away game, Diana puts on a show. She’s not hogging the ball, but definitely asserts herself. For her age, she’s wiping the floor with Chicago, putting up a solid 18 in the first half, and every time she scores you get up on your feet, laughing and cheering for her, and her team, of course. Front row tickets were a mistake, you were so close to them, a sideline throw in was practically in your lap.
“Fuck.” You mutter as Diana sinks another three, sticking her tongue out cockily to celebrate. You squirm in your seat; it wasn’t that you hoped Diana had a bad night, just rather an average night, it was wrong, but watching her dominate the court made you horny. Diana and BG are almost masterclass worthy tonight, despite it being somewhat close. But Diana really shines. She seems more aggressive tonight, each movement sharp and each basket a dagger. BG seems to be almost calming Diana after she starts on a ref. You watch excitedly, leaning in to hear some of Diana’s legendary trash talk, instead you're greeted with BG’s gentle tone.
“Diana this is how you got thrown out, stop it, calm down, put them away, it’ll be over soon.” B says and crowds Diana’s space in front of the cameras and the ref. You strain to hear Diana’s response but her tone comes out in almost a low growl.
“I know it will never really be over but you’ll have relief tonight, breath Dee, you’ve done this for a decade. And put those away before someone sees.” BG stands in front of Diana for another moment before stepping away and Diana looks like another person, her demeanor noticeably happier. You can sort of make out Diana’s words this time something ending with taste. You frown and sit back in your seat, not listening anymore. There’s a whistle and a time out, you slump in your seat slightly and take a long sip of your cocktail, the dangerously fruity drink soothing your nerves.
Diana’s pov
She was wet, Diana could tell. Her nostrils flared after her three and she was momentarily stunned, with her heightened senses Diana was used to smelling more, she could smell the blood in people’s veins if she was hungry enough. This was her favorite smell though, the smell of arousal. After a rough play the ref doesn’t call a foul and the frustration in Diana snaps.
“That’s a fucking foul! She grabbed my arm!” Diana snarled, her body taut with simmering anger. Before the ref could even respond BG was on Diana, her body blocking Diana from everyone.
“Diana this is how you got thrown out, stop it, calm down, put them away, it’ll be over soon.” Brittney is placating as her deep brown eyes bare into Diana, she wraps a large hand around Diana’s bicep, soothing her.
“She’s fucking soaked, she’s sitting there courtside and her fucking panties are dripping, B I’m gonna rip her throat out I fucking need her. I can’t do this anymore, I’m so hungry all the time” Diana says in an almost unintelligible growl, her fangs bared.
“I know it will never really be over but you’ll have relief tonight, breath Dee, you’ve done this for a decade. And put those away before someone sees.” BG shoots a look down to Diana’s dripping fangs, luckily at 6’9 Brittney could basically completely cover Diana from prying eyes and cameras when needed. Diana blinked a few times and rolled her shoulders.
“Cover for me at half time, I’ll be controlled, but I need a taste.”
“Are you sure?” Brittney asks as they walk to the bench for a time out.
“Oh I’m sure.” Diana sniffed the air and grinned. “She’ll come with me, she’s so fucking wet B, fuck I can practically taste her.” She subconsciously licked her lips and flopped on the bench next to BG.
“I meant are you sure that’s a good idea, can you… uh… control yourself?” B whispers to her and shoots water into her mouth. Before Diana can answer, the other players gather around and coach grabs the clipboard.
The other girls on the team knew Diana had quirks but it had been explained away as a health condition and anxiety. She was still friendly and the other girls loved her but it was almost a sixth sense that told people she was dangerous. By now everyone was aware that sometimes Diana needed alone time, that she had a condition that caused her to be cold, and she didn’t eat at team dinners because of a special diet. No one could complain much when she was still one of the top scorers on her team. Diana had to consciously hold back most nights, it would draw too much attention if someone “her age” dominated the court, so she settled for still being starter material but not flashy. She was faster, stronger, and if well fed she didn't tire; she could play in the league indefinitely but of course couldn’t do that, already the oldest in the league Diana knew she could get away with one maybe two more seasons. She half listened to the play, she already knew it, and instead focused her attention on her prize on the sideline, the curve of her neck, the smell of her blood pumping through her veins and the arousal that coated her inner thighs. Diana leaned her elbows on her knees and bent to the side, to everyone it looked like she was intensely listening to her coach. She strained to hear only the girl on the sideline, blocking out all the loud arena noise, Diana smiled as she singled her out, the clinking of ice cubes in her glass, her elevated heart rate pumping her sweet blood through her body, the click of her boots on the hardwood as she fidgets. Diana licked her lips and felt BG’s hand on her back grounding her. She straightened and looked at BG, giving her a nod in thanks. Diana refocused herself and listened to the end of her coaches words, the play forming in her mind. She was sure now, she couldn’t wait until after the game, Diana needed a little taste of her sweet prize at halftime.
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familiarscars · 1 month ago
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Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 13
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adult content | minors do NOT interact.
⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.
⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.
⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.
It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.
Michigan, October 31, 2019
“Hey, we’ve landed.” He said softly, leaning close to your face while nudging your side. “You can open your eyes now.”
You cracked one eye open to check if you were still alive and in one piece after that flying machine had shaken so much on the way from Los Angeles to here. You felt his body shift with a faint laugh. Once you were reassured of your mere safety, you opened the other eye. Finally, the plane had touched down, and you could let go of Noah’s arms, which you’d been clutching onto like a monkey on a branch.
Bad Omens had released their second album just a few months ago. Finding God Before God Finds Me was the perfect blend of everything they’d worked on while locked in the studio for nearly two years, experimenting with new paths until they achieved the final result. The band had crafted a set of tracks that combined melodic elements with heavy riffs. They managed to balance the sound, carving out their unique identity, and leaving behind the comparisons to other bands from their debut album.
Since its release, the critics’ reviews couldn’t have been more positive.
The band’s rapid growth since their debut, along with the approval of both old and new fans, secured them a spot at another festival. A gathering of bands celebrating Halloween and the famous Devil’s Night—a local tradition, as you’d researched online.
“That was awful. I never want to fly again in my life!” You grumbled, adjusting in your seat and crossing your arms. “I can’t believe anyone still has the energy after surviving that turbulence that almost killed us!”
“GOOD MORNING!” Folio shouted, standing on the seat behind you, his high-pitched yell shaking your eardrums. “BAD OMENS IS GONNA DESTROY DEVIL’S NIGHT, BABY!”
You and Noah exchanged a glance and simultaneously rolled your eyes.
“Of course, he’s happy. He snored through the whole damn flight!” Your tone threatened to turn sharp as you were still annoyed, but it softened as you threw the neck pillow you were using at your friend, a smile tugging at your lips. “Pipe down, will you?”
Folio tossed the pillow back, hitting you in the neck with the fluffy object. Your mouth opened as if that action were a direct invitation to war. Once again, you hurled it at his face. While all the normal adults were lined up to exit the plane, you two were playing as if you were at home.
In one of your attacks, the pillow hit Noah’s face. The way he grabbed it, slammed it onto the other seat to end the game, and turned his attention back to his phone was enough to tell you something was wrong. Folio pursed his lips and abandoned the battlefield, retreating to his seat like a well-behaved child after a scolding.
He’d decided it was better to bother someone else.
Maybe Matt.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, nibbling on your lower lip as you tucked your leg under yourself and leaned back into the seat.
“Look at this…” His voice was filled with indignation, and his eyebrows drew together. Noah shoved his phone into your hand, and you took it slowly, seeing a single post on the screen. It was the lineup announcement for the Halloween festival, and initially, you couldn’t spot anything wrong.
“Sorry, but what’s the issue?”
“Gerard said we’d be the headliners of the night, but Landon’s band’s name is bigger than ours.” His eyes narrowed, his expression tense. Noah’s lips thinned, and his perfectly sculpted nose flared slightly.
“And this is a problem for us?” You squinted, puzzled. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the time zone change, but you genuinely couldn’t grasp where he was going with this.
Noah had always been the first to say you were too critical of Gerard, seeing problems where none existed.
“It’s a problem for me when they use my band’s name to sell tickets but place us on the same level as an inferior band on the poster. In what world does Landon’s band, which has only one viral song, deserve to have their name above mine?” His tone hardened. “In the initial announcements, the festival didn’t even mention their name in the banners, and now, after tickets sold out quickly, a new band magically appears on the lineup?”
“I think you’re putting too much energy into an issue that’s not that deep.”
Noah laughed bitterly, slapping his thigh in disbelief and shaking his head. It wasn’t news that out of all the members, he’d developed a bit of an ego issue over the years. Sure, Bad Omens had more hit songs, more listeners, and were better known than Landon’s band. But from an outside perspective, his tirade honestly sounded identical to a case of inflated pride.
“Hey!” Tapping his arm lightly with your fingertips, you managed to grab his attention again. It broke your heart to see him upset, but the little pout he made, puffing out his cheeks, was unbearably cute.
Slowly, you leaned over him, resting your chin on your hands on his broad shoulder covered by his hoodie. Like a needy puppy, he tilted his head and accepted the string of kisses you planted along the warm, soft skin of his face.
“If the problem is the font size they used for our name on there, I’ll make a new poster where Bad Omens will be the biggest name of all, and the other bands will be so small you can barely read them. How’s that?” Your question came with raised eyebrows, and it was impossible not to smile when he gave in, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to suppress a grin.
“The biggest of all?”
“Yep.” You followed up with another kiss on his cheek. “And you can stick it on your wall as a keepsake.”
Your fingertips traced a slow path from his neck to his face. Noah chuckled reflexively from the ticklish sensation and startled you when he suddenly turned around, pulling you into his arms and pinning you near the window. Hovering over the divider between the seats in an awkward position, he refused to let go.
With your faces close enough to share the same breath, you felt warmth bloom in your stomach again as his expression regained its usual light. Some days, peace seemed to bless you both like a divine gift, and seeing him radiant was enough to make your body react.
In a shamelessly unfair move, he attacked you with a flurry of quick, loud kisses all over your face, finally stopping at the tip of your nose and pressing his forehead against yours.
“Will I get your autograph on it?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if sharing a secret.
“Have I ever said no to you?” you whispered against his lips, which then brushed yours in a tender kiss.
“Thank you,” he murmured with a soft smile, grazing his nose against yours. Knowing him as well as you did, you could tell from his low tone that a slight emotion was laced in his voice. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Your life would definitely be a total bore,” you teased, watching his smile grow.
For a moment, it felt like you weren’t on a slow-disembarking plane but rather caught up in one of your silly, casual conversations in a park. The way he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear sent shivers through your skin, stirring your flesh and igniting your veins to pump furiously toward your heart in an almost unbearable rhythm.
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t even remember what life was like without you,” he confessed, his bright eyes tinged with melancholy, and his brows knitted in a pained expression. “I caught myself thinking about it last night for no reason, and I couldn’t shake it. I know for sure that without you, I’d be nothing more than a breathing body, living on autopilot, just waiting for the next day. You’re part of me—you guide everything—and I’d never know how to do that without you. Without you, I wouldn’t even be Noah.”
Wrapping him in your arms didn’t feel like enough. You silently begged some divine force to merge the two of you into one at that moment, so overwhelming was your need to shield him from his fears. With the touch of your skin, you promised to always be there; with your lips on his, you vowed never to let anything tear apart what you had.
You found it equally terrifying to imagine life without him. You knew you’d be no more than a breathing body too. You wouldn’t be anything. You’d much rather self-destruct than endure being separated from the one thing that saved your life when even you didn’t believe in it.
He was as much yours as you were his, and nothing in heaven or hell could change that.
“I love you, little storm,” he whispered against your lips, his eyes still closed.
“I love you, my love,” you replied with a smile that always blossomed whenever those words left your lips.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe we’re running this late, and you two are making out on the plane instead of moving! Do I have to babysit you all the time?” Matt bellowed, smacking Noah’s back. You and Noah exchanged glances, rolling your eyes as you muttered something incomprehensible before standing up. “I don’t remember getting paid for this! Move it! Move it! Let’s go!”
The show was in full swing, adrenaline running high. You and Noah couldn’t have been more in sync with the audience, which was the largest you’d performed for to date. Everyone screamed, shouted lyrics, and responded well to the interactions.
It felt cliché to say, but you felt even more alive up there, as if the stage’s euphoria sustained you. Every break between songs to catch your breath and take a sip of water filled your lungs with air and gave you the energy to keep giving your best.
They deserved it.
You focused on keeping your tone steady during the penultimate song, gripping the microphone tightly with your eyes closed. It was impossible not to wear a smile every time you heard them finish the lyrics for you.
In a swift motion, you opened your eyes to keep moving across the stage, but something in the crowd caught your attention, freezing you in place. Your voice faltered, and the smile disappeared instantly as the drums continued to beat feverishly in the background. Amidst the sea of faces, you saw only one—his. It was as if the others were dimmed, and his presence was the only one reflecting the light.
Wearing a cap, dark sunglasses, and a turtleneck, he seemed to be trying to blend in. But you would recognize him anywhere, even in a crowd of millions, even if your vision was impaired. Your body reacted instinctively. Your hands grew cold and clammy, making it hard to grip the microphone, your right eyelid twitched faintly, and your jaw locked so tightly you feared your teeth might crack.
Snapping you out of your hypnotic state, Noah took over the rest of the song, his voice gradually becoming a distant noise as the walls seemed to close in around you. Dark and claustrophobic, you felt like you were swimming against the current when, in reality, you were in the middle of a whirlpool pulling you down by the legs. Slowly, your breathing grew erratic, and your heartbeat pounded in your ears at a frantic pace.
The microphone slipped from your trembling fingers, and with hurried steps, you left the stage behind without even checking if what you saw was a delusion or if he was truly there. It didn’t matter—this time, you had the choice to run, and you took it.
Panting, you gripped the sink tightly, splashing water on your neck as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Nothing seemed to calm the agony his presence in the same space caused—a mix of fear and despair that paralyzed your body. It didn’t matter how many years had passed or how far you had traveled; he still felt so alive in your skin that you could sense every memory as if it were yesterday.
The years hadn’t masked the torture of living in a body like yours. After being violated, it was never the same. No matter what you did to erase the traces of your former self—tattoos, surgeries, nothing could remove what was beneath your skin, coursing through your veins, lighting up every time something reminded you of him, no matter how small.
Your first reaction, after staring at your flushed, red reflection for what felt like an eternity, was to trigger an endless wave of vomiting into the cleaning bucket nearby. Everything in your stomach melted into a green liquid. The disgust was so overwhelming you kept inducing the next wave with your fingers until the acid from your stomach was the only taste on your lips.
You were desperate to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. The absence of release led you to lash out at yourself, scrubbing your mouth aggressively, scratching your face with the tips of your nails. The memories tangled, blurring the line between past and present. Both hurt so much you pressed your chest with all your might, your fingers clawing at your scalp, yanking your hair mercilessly. Low, hoarse screams tore from your throat.
You couldn’t make noise. You couldn’t forget this was your problem to bear.
After erasing the streaks of powder from the sink, you raised your face, breathing heavily as your heart pounded fiercely in your chest, heating the blood coursing through your veins. Slowly, you wiped the smudged makeup from the corners of your eyes and forced a smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. But your eyes remained sorrowful.
Pain.
Something hurt.
You just wanted to go home.
“Finally found you!” Noah said, placing his hands on his hips when he saw you leaving the bathroom. He was leaning against the couch in the dressing room, eating an apple. “What was that? Were you still feeling sick from the flight?”
From a distance, you observed him in silence. He didn’t seem angry about you leaving the stage or for being here. His bright eyes only showed concern, but the walls of your mind were compressed under such intense pressure that you wished he would disappear for a few seconds.
Before you realized it, Noah approached. In your peripheral vision, you saw him reaching out to touch your arm, but you sidestepped him, walking to the other side of the room.
"Okay, I got it!" He raised his hands with a smile, treating it like a joke, and something about that made you feel even worse. "We've got some people outside wanting to take pictures. Let's do a quick interview, and it’d be nice to talk to them on the way."
"What people?" You turned to him, stopping the massage on your neck. Noah narrowed his eyes slightly, analyzing the hesitation in your voice. "Where did they come from?"
"They’re fans who came to see us. I don’t think I can memorize every face..."
He could be among them. He could be among them.
Your mind repeated the thought as your hand moved from your neck to your hair. Your gaze fixed on a spot on the floor, and it was as if a projector replayed the scene in your head. He was there in the crowd, watching you, and now he wanted to pass himself off as one of your fans.
"I’ve told you before, I don’t like when you do that—you’ll hurt yourself." Noah startled you by gently pulling your fingers away from your hair at the back of your neck, where you had been tugging at it.
Carefully, he positioned himself beside you, lifting your chin with his finger. Softly, his hand wiped the dampness under your eyes, and you looked at him with something stuck in your throat, words failing to escape.
"Please, don’t make me go out there and take pictures with them," you whispered, clutching Noah’s torso so tightly your nails dug into his shirt. "Please, please, please... I don’t want to go."
Desperation and disorientation. Your eyes couldn’t settle on a single point, and your voice came in gasps as if you were running a marathon.
"Alright, but Gerard won’t let us leave without doing the interview. It’s part of the event coverage, and he thinks it’s important we talk to them." Noah explained, running his fingers over the top of your head as if the gesture might calm you. Something landed there—a kiss between your hair. He rested his chin on your head and sighed deeply. "Think you can handle it? Three or four questions, and then we’re free to go back to the hotel."
"Promise?" You asked, lifting your head after sniffing. Noah smiled and kissed the tip of your nose, resting his forehead gently against yours.
"I promise."
Facing yet another woman with dyed hair and fishnet tights. Interesting.
Since arriving at the makeshift studio where a camera and sound equipment sat on a table, the interviewer had only said a brief "hi" to you. You could tell she genuinely cared about the band, but that interest was entirely directed at one vocalist.
"This is Bad Omens’ first time as a headliner at a festival like this, and I wanted to know, what were your expectations, Noah?" The girl with the red-dyed hair and microphone in hand directed her sixth question to him. "Were they met?"
It wasn’t surprising anymore that they ignored the fact the band had five members, including two vocalists. Most interviews only requested one of you, and when the label forced you to accompany the poster boy, it was obvious you’d be overlooked.
To them, Noah was the centerpiece, and in their minds, everything Bad Omens had achieved was thanks to him alone. As if you and the other members were merely the crust of the pizza.
"I thought it was amazing!" He began. "From backstage, we could feel the energy of the crowd, and it got us pumped to get on stage. It’s the first time we’ve played for such a large audience, and I won’t lie—I was nervous."
"Do you usually have any specific preparation for that?"
"I like to take a few minutes alone to focus. I think it helps me stay grounded," he replied, and you rolled your eyes.
Playing with the microphone cord was already becoming tedious.
"We have to talk about the new album! It definitely has a different vibe from the last one, and people say you did that to put an end to online comparisons with another famous band. Is that true?"
He hated discussing it that way, and you noticed his discomfort as his smile faded slightly.
"It’s normal to compare—we were newcomers, and no one knew what the hell Bad Omens was." You jumped in, cutting Noah off before he could answer. "But this album truly shows who we are and what we’re here to do, putting an end to any comparisons by those who can’t tell the difference between styles. Without identity, we’re just another small-name band on a festival flyer, and we’re definitely not that kind of band."
Maybe you sounded arrogant. That’s what being around him does.
"That’s really cool!" She responded, nodding in agreement. "But Noah, how was the creative process for the softer songs, considering you guys weren’t used to that?"
It couldn’t just be your imagination, but something about her gaze said otherwise. Sure, you were used to being ignored in interviews as though you were a production assistant, but she not only directed all her questions to him but smiled sweetly and looked at him with a glimmer of fascination that made your chest throb.
All that irritation doubled as you gripped the microphone handle tightly, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Maybe your question would be answered if you directed it to the songwriter who worked on every soft track alongside Jolly." You interrupted again. "I don’t recall Noah announcing a solo career."
"Hey," he murmured, trying to calm you.
Of course, he didn’t want you to say anything. Something stroking his ego was still appealing, but you weren’t in the mood to play a supporting character today. You didn’t even want to be there, not when your heart pounded so hard it felt like it might consume your entire body.
"I’d really like to be seen as a vocalist in the band I’ve worked in for five years, and I’d appreciate it if you acknowledged me here to ask questions about the album I helped create instead of asking dumb questions to my pretty boyfriend!"
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Noah chuckle softly, quickly composing himself. The interviewer shifted in her seat, trying to smile discreetly to mask the blush spreading across her cheeks.
"I’m sorry..."
"But I won’t be sorry next time when I rip your eyes out for focusing too much on someone else’s boyfriend instead of doing your job. Misogynistic bitch."
In a fit of anger, you stood up and hurled the microphone at her face before storming out like a furious thunderbolt. For the first time, something felt off as you marched back to the dressing room, hearing the girl say the cut on her brow was minor. You felt rage, discomfort, like being trapped in clothes far too large for your body.
For the first time, you started to hate all of it.
⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff
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notinmyvocab · 1 year ago
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Conference Call
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Summary: It's VECNA week: the Vermont Educational Conference for the Northeast Area, and Larissa is bored and lonely. A few clicks online and she hires a... friend for a few hours.
Warnings: Smut, smut, smut g!p, dirty talk, mommy kink, teacher/student roleplaying, swearing, unedited
Author's Note: Ummm so this kind of got away from me. Sorry not sorry.
P.S: Caiohme is an Irish name pronounced "Kwee-va"
It was that time of year again: VECNA week: the Vermont Educational Conference for the Northeast Area. If it weren’t for the fact that she was out of town at the most boring conference ever, she never would have considered even looking up the company. But the Vermont Educational Conference for the Northeast Area didn’t exactly inspire.
It had been a week, and she was homesick, and lonely, and sad, and perhaps a bit drunker than she’d care to admit.
And this hadn’t been the first time she considered doing something like this. It was just the first time she actually went through with it. And it made her feel sick, if she were being perfectly honest. Technically it was legal, but Larissa couldn’t help but let shame weigh down on her shoulders. Was she really so undesirable that she needed to buy someone else’s company?
That was all it was, she assured herself as she sipped her cocktail of Jim Beam and diet Coke. She was paying someone to come and be her friend for a night because no one at this conference was worth her time. And no one seemed particularly interested in interacting with an Outcast from Nevermore Academy. At least this way, she was guaranteeing conversation; guaranteeing companionship, if for only an evening.
Larissa sat on the edge of the hotel bed, which she had remade, and then remade again so that the corners were tighter and the sheets appeared crisper. Not that it mattered. It was a hotel, not her home. And this person was probably not going to be judging her bed. Still, Larissa had a reputation she liked to uphold, even with strangers.
She was starting to grow anxious as the minutes ticked by. She already put through her credit card information, so surely there would be no issue? Unless it was a scam. Oh dear, had she fallen for a ploy?
There came a sharp knock at her hotel door, the sound so sudden that Larissa nearly jumped out of her skin. Was that…? Larissa took another sip of her cocktail and set aside the glass before standing up and smoothing out the skirt of her dress. Her heart thudded uneasily in her chest. Maybe if she pretended she wasn’t there, then she could forget about the whole thing?
Larissa went over the door and opened it.
Before her stood a young woman with hair that she clearly attempted to straightened, but still tried resisting, certain sections insisting on creating a wave. It was a slightly imperfect detail that actually made Larissa relax. The woman in the doorway wasn’t perfect. She was a dream, but she wasn’t perfect, and that helped put Larissa at ease.
It wasn’t until she met the woman’s eyes that Larissa realized she probably should’ve shifted her appearance; kept this more anonymous. But it was too late now.
“Larissa?”
A fake name also might’ve been a better choice.
“Yes. Um, come in.” Larissa stepped aside and watched the young woman marvel at the hotel room as if she had never seen anything so nice. It had to be part of an act. Someone who did this line of work surely saw a lot of hotel rooms in her lifetime.
“So um, how has your day been?” Larissa asked, immediately cursing herself for sounding like an idiot.
The woman turned and smiled at Larissa, apparently finding her endearing. “Long. VECNA tends to get busy for me.”
“Is that so? Why?”
The woman raised her eyebrows, wondering if Larissa really wanted her to answer that. She gave the nicer. vague answer. “Lot of lonely teachers in an unfamiliar place.”
“And um… what shall I call you?” The website Larissa found didn’t actually give names, just pictures.
“What do you want to call me?” the young woman implored, and it suddenly became clear why the website didn’t have names. She saw Larissa’s uneasiness and gave a warm smile. “I answer to a lot of things. But tonight you can call me Kitty.”
“Kitty…” Larissa said slowly, tasting the name; testing the name. “Is that your real name?”
“Is Larissa yours?” Touche. It was, but Larissa did not do anything to confirm this. Kitty went on, “It’s short for Caiomhe.”
Larissa frowned faintly, not following the explanation. “I don’t quite see how Kitty is short for Caiomhe.”
Kitty grinned, giving a soft, embarrassed laugh. “It’s not. But you can’t go through middle school with the name Caiomhe.”
“Of course. Students can be cruel.” Larissa certainly knew about that. She also didn’t doubt that customers liked such a soft sounding name. “Would you like something to drink?” Words came a little easier to her now; knowing Kitty’s name certainly helped to soothe the nerves.
“No, thank you. I don’t drink on the job.”
Job. Right. Because that was what this was. She needed to remember that.
Kitty sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. She was so simple in her plain black cocktail dress, yet exuded elegance.
“So, what did you want to do tonight?” Kitty asked, her eyes imploring yet mischievous, head tilted to the side.
“Oh, I’m… I’m not really sure,” Larissa replied sheepishly. That was a lie. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, but now, suddenly faced with the question, she couldn’t bring herself to answer. How could she possibly voice to this stranger what she wanted?
Kitty saw the struggle in Larissa’s eyes, and gave a small, sympathetic smile. “Most people just want to talk,” she said.
“Really?”
“I mean sure, I get some people who want to take me out to dinner; pretend I’m their girlfriend. But most just… want someone to listen.” That was what made it legal. If sex happened, then it happened. But as far as the records were concerned, she was paid to hang out.
Kitty narrowed her eyes slightly as she studied Larissa, trying to guess what her mental roadblocks were. The woman just seemed so tense. “What brings you to VECNA?” she asked. Maybe conversation was the key.
“I’m a principal,” Larissa answered. “I run a boarding school… for Outcasts.”
Kitty perked up in recognition. “Nevermore?”
“So you’ve heard of it.”
“I used to be obsessed with it when I was younger,” Kitty confessed. “A boarding school for the strange and unusual; I wanted to go so badly.”
Larissa blushed, pleased and flattered that someone actually said a kind word about her dear academy. She sat on the bed next to Kitty, one hand holding her drink and the other hand resting on the bed.
“Okay, so you’re the headmistress of an elite boarding school…”
“Principal,” Larissa corrected.
“I think, tonight, you should be Headmistress.”
And like magic, Larissa’s shoulders relaxed. She downed the rest of her drink and set the now empty glass aside. She stood up and smoothed out her skirt. “And do you know why you’ve been sent to my office?”
Kitty immediately fell into her role. She sat on her hands, knees together. “Because I got caught touching myself in class.”
“Because you can’t help being a little slut, isn’t that so?” Larissa folded her arms across her chest.
She didn’t think she would slip into the fantasy so easily. She thought she would be trembling with unsteady nerves. Instead, Larissa slipped into the role as if she were slipping on her favorite heels.
Kitty pouted. “I’m sorry Headmistress. I couldn’t help it!”
“You never can. Tell me: did you slip your fingers in and out? Taste yourself when the teacher wasn’t looking?” When Kitty nodded, playing along, Larissa gave a wolfish grin. “And who were you thinking about when you were toying with your sweet little pussy?”
Kitty looked down, as if ashamed though Larissa saw no blush upon her cheeks. In fact, the corners of her mouth were curled upward; she was enjoying the game. Good.
Larissa tucked a finger under Kitty’s chin and forced her to look up. “Be a good girl, and tell me: who’s tongue were you imagining?”
“Yours, Headmistress.”
“Oh? Well, I suppose that puts us in a bit of a conundrum.” Larissa dropped her hand and stepped away from Kitty. She folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head to the side, as if she hadn’t already decided her next move. “See, you ought to be punished. Yet…”
“Yet?”
“I find myself at a crossroads. You should be bent over my desk; you should get a lashing for being so crude. But I think spanking you would just turn you on even more. Is that true?” Larissa leaned down over Kitty, hands planted on either side of the woman. “Maybe you’d like it a little too much.”
Kitty’s perfume was hypnotizing; she smelled like an azalea. Kitty could smell the Jim Beam on Larissa’s breath and she couldn’t help herself; she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips against Larissa’s. It wasn’t like she never kissed clients, but it was the first time she actually enjoyed it.
Larissa broke character, stunned by the small, affectionate gesture. She stared at Kitty, lips parted as if to ask why. Instead, she placed her hand on the back of Kitty’s head and pulled her in for a languid kiss, every movement of her tongue deliberate and precise.
And oh how Kitty relished in the attention. The kissing became hungry as Kitty craved more, needed more. She had never felt so… wanted.
Other clients pretended to want her. She knew the drill and it never bothered her. This was her life, and it paid damn well. But when they kissed her, if they kissed her, she could tell that they were imagining someone else, or just glad to have a warm body. It had never been about her.
This was about her. Larissa was kissing her.
Kitty pulled back from Larissa, and whispered, “Let me take care of you.”
“No,” Larissa said. For a brief moment, Kitty’s brow furrowed and she looked confused and even partially worried. Larissa pressed a kiss against the younger woman’s forehead, soothing her worries. “I’m going to take care of you.”
She put a hand against Kitty’s chest, guiding her to lay down on the bed. She wasted no time in getting on her knees.
Kitty’s heart fluttered, both with anticipation and adoration. She gasped softly when she felt Larissa press a kiss against her bare calf, then her knee, then her inner thigh. God it took so much strength for Larissa to go even this speed.
Larissa tucked her fingers into the waistband of Kitty’s black thong, taking a second to admire them.
“Adore Me,” Kitty said, propping herself up on her forearms.
“Pardon?”
“The panties. I get my lingerie from Adore Me. They have like a monthly subscription where they send you stuff. That’s probably my absolute favorite thing I got from them. Though I gotta say, I like it a lot better in your hands.”
“Is that so? Because I think it looks best on the floor.” Larissa tossed aside the thong and placed her hands on Kitty’s thighs, digging her nails in slightly. “Tell me what you like.”
“I’ll like whatever you do to me.”
That answer apparently wasn’t good enough. Kitty jolted as she felt a sudden, sharp slap against her cunt though she was immediately soothed by long strokes of skilled fingers. “Be a good girl, and tell me what you like.”
“That,” Kitty gasped. “I like… I like it when you call me a good girl.”
“I see. That’s unfortunate because you haven’t been a very good girl, have you? Touching yourself in class isn’t something good girls do.” Larissa slipped back into the roleplay, finding she did quite enjoy it and while she did ask Kitty what she wanted, Larissa was the one paying for the night. Give and take.
“I’m sorry, Headmistress,” Kitty whined. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“Because you’re a little slut.”
“Because I’m your little slut,” Kitty corrected, daring to hold Larissa’s gaze. “I just kept imagining your fingers inside of me, making me so, so wet.”
“Oh darling, you don’t need my help making you wet.” Larissa lowered herself back down between Kitty’s legs. She inhaled deeply, basking in the woman’s arousal. She couldn’t stand it any longer. Larissa dragged her tongue along the woman’s glistening slit, tasting Kitty’s desire.
Kitty gasped at the contact, swallowing her moan. She didn’t want to admit how good Larissa made her feel with only one swipe of her tongue; she wasn’t used to this. Some clients were clumsy. Some were terribly sweet and affection. But Larissa was something else entirely.
Larissa nipped at Kitty’s clit, making the younger woman yelp. “Don’t you dare keep quiet.” She returned to devouring Kitty’s pussy, and Kitty certainly did not hold back. She let herself moan and whine and beg for more.
“Please, god… fuck, it feels so good.” The feeling of Larissa lapping at her clit was divine; Kitty wrapped her legs around Larissa, holding her close, needing more. “F-fingers. Please, fingers.”
At Kitty’s request, Larissa pulled away, chin glistening. “Do you think you deserve my fingers?”
Kitty only managed a whine. God she needed Larissa so badly. Her lack of words earned her another sharp slap on her pussy, and a commanding, “Answer me,” from Larissa. “N-no,” she choked out. “No, I don’t. But I need them. I need you. Please.”
Larissa paused, pursing her lips.
Immediately sensing Larissa’s hesitancy, Kitty sat up. “Is everything okay?”
“Can we… do you mind if we try something?”
Normally she was uneasy when a client said something like that. But Larissa was… different. Even though it sounded corny as fuck, Larissa was special. So Kitty said, “Anything you want. Name it.” For a moment, Kitty worried that she sounded too overeager. That fear was allayed when she saw Larissa relax a little.
“I’m… I’m a shapeshifter. It’s what makes me an Outcast.” That obviously wasn’t what Larissa was worried about. Kitty could see in her blue, blue eyes that there was something more; something deeper. “And… well, I’ve never actually tried it before. But I… I find myself wanting to have you be my first. If you’ll have me.”
Kitty tilted her head to the side, not quite following what Larissa meant. Her first? The woman was clearly no stranger to sex; what was there possibly to take?
Then she added it all up, and when the sum made itself apparent, Kitty inhaled sharply. Not in disgust, or even shock, but in pure desire. She nodded, eyes practically glowing in excitement.
Larissa stepped away from the bed and turned her back to Kitty. She breathed deeply as her fingers fumbled with her dress, feeling Kitty’s eyes on her.
The moments passed agonizingly slow; Kitty had sat up at this point, rubbing her thighs together to feel some sweet friction without pushing herself over the edge. And as much of a cliche as it was, her jaw did indeed drop when Larissa turned around.
Every inch of her was perfect: the swell of her breast, the curve of her waist, the place where her thighs met. And right there among it all…
Larissa stepped closer, her cock hard with desire. Kitty didn’t even hesitate to get off the bed and down onto her knees. She took hold of the throbbing member, her touch curious yet gentle. She lips ghosted along the shaft, and Larissa swallowed a moan, the sensation more intense than she ever imagined.
“Can I?” Kitty whispered against Larissa’s tip, and when she saw Larissa nod, she immediately took the cock into her mouth.
And oh god what a sensation it was. Larissa immediately threaded her fingers through Kitty’s hair, making sure she kept her pace slow and steady. This was completely new to her and it was almost overwhelming. She already wanted to cum, wanted to see thick rivulets of white spill down the side of Kitty’s perfect hot mouth. Just imagining such a sight nearly sent her over the edge, but Larissa held back.
Then Kitty dared to take Larissa’s cock all the way down her throat and made a gagging noise. Was it real or just part of the show? Larissa didn’t care, she loved it all the same.
“Good girl,” she cooed. “Take all of me; choke on Mummy’s cock.”
Larissa’s voice faded as Kitty continued to take all of her, slurping and slobbering. Finally, right when Larissa was certain she would lose control, Kitty pulled away, spit dribbling down her chin. She planted one more kiss against Larissa’s cock before getting up and bending over the bed.
For just a moment, Larissa relished in the sight of this young woman spread and dripping for her.
She slid her cock into Kitty’s wet pussy and both women groaned in pleasure.
“Fuck,” Kitty hissed as Larissa started moving in and out. She reached down between her own legs to rub her clit as Larissa kept thrusting. “Fuck, Mommy, your cock is s-so good.”
Larissa thrust harder, feeling bliss in a way she had never felt before. She could barely hear Kitty’s whines, so consumed with her own pleasure. “That’s it, take Mummy’s cock,” she growled, hand finding Kitty’s hair and pulling.
She wasn’t going to last long like this. The dirty talk thrilled her, and Kitty too.
“Please make me cum, Mommy,” Kitty begged as Larissa’s thrusting picked up speed and she kept furiously rubbing at her clit. Her legs were shaking as an orgasm unexpectedly rocked through her body.
The sight of Kitty’s quivering form and the feeling of her orgasm tearing through her sent Larissa over the edge. She gave one final thrust and held herself inside of Kitty, filling her up.
Both women breathed heavily as they slowly came down from their high. With great reluctance, Larissa pulled out of Kitty and cum dripped out of Kitty’s sopping cunt, trickling down her inner thigh.
Unable to resist, Larissa lowered herself and dragged her tongue along Kitty’s slit, tasting their mingled cum. It was divine.
Neither of them said a word for a few minutes, hearts hammering too loudly to hear one another.
Larissa lay down on the bed, feeling her lower half shift back to her usual form. She watched Kitty slip into the bathroom to clean up. She closed her eyes, her mind completely blank for once. No worries, no cares, just darkness. How wonderful.
The sound of a lock grabbed her attention and she sat up to see Kitty about to slip out the door.
“Wait,” Larissa said without thinking. But then she remembered what this all was: a business transaction. The fantasy melted away.
But to her surprise, Kitty did indeed hesitate at the door. The young woman turned. She’d been booked for the night, and sleeping over wasn’t part of the deal. But maybe… maybe an exception could be made. Just this once.
“Will you stay?” Larissa asked softly.
“If you’ll have me.”
Larissa nodded, and Kitty relocked the door. She shed her dress and slipped into the bed beside Larissa. And as Larissa pressed a kiss to her temple, Kitty wondered if she had allowed herself to cross over into forbidden territory: falling in love with a client.
-----------
@winterfireblond @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scream-queenlover @kaymariesworld @barbarasstar @yourlocaldisneyvillain @finnja555 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @lvinhs @h-doodles @lilfartbox1
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curioscurio · 4 months ago
Text
[Short Story]
80 Percent
One day, we developed the technology to completely map out and visualize every single living creature and object in the ocean. The machine had been running for a few years and received an extraordinary amount of funding from scientific organizations around the world.
When it finishes its job, the results are to be instantly shared around the world.
On the final day of the countdown, everyone started getting giddy with excitement and curiosity while waiting for the results.
"This is really magnificent. Who knows what incredible forms of life we're going to find?" An intern in New Zealand bounced with nervous energy and smiled.
"I hope it's hiding epic and delicious sea monsters, like in hollywood movies!" A lighthearted seafood chef in Spain jokes.
"There could be a sponge out there with the cure to cancer!" A sick child in America coughs out to their nurse.
Oil and fishing industries everywhere were hosting company parties; celebrating the new abundance of supply to support the crushing weight of demand.
A salaryman in Hong Kong playfully groans. "Anything but the same old boring fish we see all the time. I'd love to see something like a never-before seen creature with octopus-like intelligence!"
"It's nice to know that, despite all of mankind's careless neglect of the ocean, there's still an abundance of nature still untouched by humanities pollution." An environmental activist in India comments.
Deep in the middle of the Atlantic, a scientific research boat sits filled with passionate marine biologists.
Someone hastily bought a cake to celebrate the hard work everyone had put into the project over the years. The team didn't know what kind of discoveries they'd run into, so it was decided that a baby shower themed cake would have to do. On the top, in blue frosting, was written: "Congratulations! It's a____!"
Presumably, the blank was to be filled in once the data from the machine was compiled.
The machine beeps once, echoing throughout the research vessel, and everyone races to the screen as fast as their legs will take them.
They read the results.
No one says anything.
"That can't be right. Someone go and reset the device and run it again." The head scientist sighs, confident that they had run into an error.
Another twenty minutes go by.
The machine beeps once.
The updated model is largely the same as the previous one.
"...maybe it's not done loading." Someone shatters the silence, and the crowd of scientists flinch, but no one dares take their sights off the screen. Nobody breathes. It's the same outcome on the third try, as well.
The visual simulation on the computer screen shows a complex 3D model of all the life in the entire ocean.
There are whales gliding between continents, sharks feasting on squids, and squids feasting on sharks. Gorgeous and intelligent octopus that can change the color of their skin at will. A pod of humpback whales could be seen off the coast of Antarctica. All of the diverse and colorful life living in the ocean swim before their eyes in a transparent globe of digital seawater.
It looks just like a modern map of the ocean as we know it.
"I don't understand. It looks exactly the same." Someone whispers.
"Exactly. Humankind has only been able to explore around 20 percent of the entire ocean on planet Earth." The head scientist gulps, eyes still hooked to the glassy screen.
"So," someone's voice begins to waver. "You're saying that the other 80 percent..."
No one answers. No one blinks.
"It's... empty. It's not detecting any life signs that we haven't already discovered. It's empty." Someone says.
Someone thinks about pollution.
Someone thinks about shark fin soup.
Someone thinks about the stock market.
Someone thinks about a pet store; shelves lined with dozens of fish that float upside-down and belly up at the top of their tanks.
"... we're all that's left." Someone says.
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matchesarelit · 7 months ago
Text
Pikmin! (Spencer Agnew x Gn!Reader)
A video game themed bar was exactly what you needed, maybe even a little more...
Smosh Masterlist
Requested: Sort of... 'reader meets him at a bar and than they go home together and have a fun nerdy time at his place' -anon
A/N: Sorry anon they don't make it home, also hope you like video games, I thought it was a safe bet for a Spencer fan, Hope you enjoy.
Warnings: Mentions of fighting (mortal combat game play, smash bros)
W.C: ~2.1k
You'd been eager to try this place since your 'for you' page had all but taunted you with it while you were sick in bed with the flu. So crossing the threshold, the outlook of a dive type bar decked out in gaming memorabilia was both overwhelming and exactly what the doctor ordered.
LEDs behind the bar were mesmerising as they throbbed and changed, it was only after you'd straddled a stool that your eyes floated up past the assortment of alcohol, to the large collection of consoles and plug-ins suspended above.
Eagerly seeking out your favourites, you simply nodded when an approaching figure inquired after the stool to your left. Snaking your gaze down the shelving, your stare fell low enough to catch the figure of the bartender on the other side of the bar. The older woman was watching you with an amused smirk, clearly your enraptured state was not a rare one among first time visitors. Casting a glance to her headwear, you noted the Mrs Pacman sitting on her headband as you considered your drink order. Opting for a familiar brand you retrieved your phone from your pocket to pay, the case making it difficult as usual, as the bartender produced a bottle and left with a smile.
As you sipped your beverage you let your focus flit around the bar, There were a few larger screens with small groups of people crowding controllers and consoles, there were more displays and shelves chocked full of all sorts of gaming nostalgia and a few retrofitted old computers playing arcade gameplay.
Finding yourself watching more than a few rounds of mortal combat on an old box TV, your attention only shifted as a rather larger group of spectators erupted in cheers on the other side of the space. Noting some other set ups around the bar, ones much less crowded that that one, you stood from your chair, drink long since drank in many an unconscious sip as you'd watched the fights.
There was a couple duelling in some newer game you couldn't recognise, a group of older people screaming their encouragement alongside a woman playing pinball and lucky as ever, right at the back in a little alcove, there was an empty GameCube setup. Although a few other familiar titles lined the small area, the screen was already displaying your game of choice; Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3.
After frying your own console years before you'd been itching to get your hands on this game for a while. Yet as if it was only yesterday you found yourself navigating the menu with ease, selecting a map you felt you might recognise, the name sounding somewhat familiar, possibly one you'd sold your soul to over fifteen years before.
Admittedly, navigating the menu came easier than recollecting the controls, but after a few minutes you were finding your groove well enough to hit a couple special moves and terrorise a few pedestrians.
Concluding your first level you'd indulged in the character select menu, although finding the original Tony Hawk much too nostalgic, you continued on all the same.
Before continuing, you took a brief glance around your little station, cautious someone else might be wanting a go.
Satisfied by the empty space around your chair, and the empty one by your side, you continued on to the next location. Finding yourself revisiting some favourite tricks and areas from years before, you felt yourself relax into the game, it was only when as you sat back in the chair and the stats for the completed level popped up that you noted the presence of someone talking by your side.
'-still can't believe you stuck with Tony, Demoness all the way'
Turning towards the voice you caught sight of a man around your age, sipping some colourful concoction, as he shifted his gaze from the screen to you.
Although, you noted to yourself, the mess of curls adorning his head surely meant his sight was solidly obstructed, so how he managed to notice which character you'd chosen was a mystery.
He was nonchalant as he plopped into the chair by your side, and you felt yourself of similar affect as you responded,
'Well, I must admit my old favourite was the Eye Guy as I knew him, but its been so long i wanted that Vanilla playthrough effect ya know, nostalgia and all that.'
'Oh I'm very familiar. Do you mind if I have a go?'
Hand gripping the back of your chair you go to move,
'Of course I'll just-'
'You don't need to leave, I'll only probably play the one level, I was never the best at Pro Skater,' His words were said softly vet with a surety that left no room for argument,
'Are you able to hold this?' He seemed hesitant to ask as he continued scouring the space despite holding his drink out in your direction.
'Keep me here just to hold your drink did you?' your tone was light enough that despite the flush on his cheeks he still held it out when he saw you nodding.
You took it into your hands, holding the glass in your lap atop crossed legs as you watched him grasp the controller and navigate the menu just as you had done.
As he began to play you let your eyes drift from the menu to the assortment of games along the wall, spotting a couple of old favourites you made a note to try them if you got the chance later.
Returning your attention to the screen you sat in the relative silence of the little alcove, enjoying the small sounds and voice lines from the game you'd long forgotten the AI were capable of, until the man by your side spoke up.
'How do you do the... The double flip? I'm completely blanking' He looked momentarily back to you as his character drifted about the landscape,
'Oh its just the same button as flip, just twice,' your voice was soft, hoping not to come off as patronising with the simplicity of your answer.
'Oh yeah, simple eh?' He laughed it off easily as he turned back to the screen, watching him go on to try, and nail, the trick, you smiled to yourself.
Concluding a second level you'd urged him to play, he handed the controller back to you as you returned his drink.
'Did you want to play another level? I'm thinking of changing the game,' letting your mind drift once again to the cases along the wall, you considered your options.
'Nah I'm good, what're you thinking?'
'Ooh, im not sur- OH' You cut yourself off as a certain title caught your eye.
Tugging it free of its sleeve you held your choice aloft, being careful of the disk surface of course,
'Luigi's Mansion? Good choice...' his words although genuine came with a familiar hesitance.
'I know right I've-' Your excited reminiscence was cut short as he cut in,
'...Fair warning; their copy doesn't work'
'Oh damn...' you slid the disc back into its place
'Agreed, I felt exactly the same when I tried booting it up last week.' He watched your movements before scooting his chair back a bit and starting up again, 'They do have the third one on a switch over there,' he pointed his drink in the direction of the largest crowd in the room, the chalkboard wait list filled to the brim in progressively smaller and smaller writing desperate to be fit in. 'But you'll probably be waiting a while.'
Your lips sucked into a defeated line, you moved your gaze back onto the man by your side. His own focus set on the glass beneath him as he seemingly attempted to skewer the floating lime on his straw. You noted that just as you'd thought before, his hair had clouded the space between his eyes and the drink.
'Do you have any suggestion then? Any that work?' You pondered with a laugh as you flipped through the cases, the sound drew his attention back to you, not that you noticed as he remained silent, stare caught on the back of your head.
A few moments of silence later and upon finding nothing you turned back to him, a brow raised as you sat awaiting his response.
'Oh um, there's always Smash?'
Nodding slightly you put the controller on the tabletop and began to search for the disc, 'I never really played it, you'll have to show me how...' Unsure where the confidence came from for that request, you stalled slightly in taking the game out, and replacing the other with it before sitting back down.
Letting your peripherals catch what you refused to look directly at, you watched as he nodded, his lips pursed for few too many moments before parting with a soft utterance, 'uh-yeah of- of course'.
Holding your hand out for his drink you held out the controller with the other, and as you felt the weight of the glass in your hand you studied the screen as he began a match.
'So with this one you have all the regular moves, which use the regular buttons but, for example, Falco's Phantasm you need to use- '
His explanations were comprehensive and before long, you were playing and winning matches on your own, well mostly on your own. The man beside you seemed unable to stop himself from leaning closer and pointing out special attacks you could manage at any given time. By the time you'd won your second stage his shoulder was knocking your own, his face inches from yours.
Sitting back in your chair once again, all but pooped from the adrenaline rush of such a victory as your character filled the screen almost as happy with themself as you were, you felt the warmth of his closeness fade as he followed your lead, slumping in his own seat.
Your short reprieve was cut short however as a voice, much harsher than that of the man at your side, crackled from behind you,
'Sorry, Are y'all done with this console?'
Sharing a brief look with him you shrugged and glanced to the bar, a small nod was enough for you as you turned and addressed the newcomers, 'Yeah, we are. Go for it'
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Stepping out of the alcove you moved no more than a metre, before turning back to check for him. Part of you expected him to leave for another spot in the bar, another console, but a bigger part of you was sure he wouldn't, at least not yet.
Sitting up on a stool you grabbed your phone to pay for a drink yet as you waited you addressed the man once again by your side.
'Well that was great fun! Little bit of nostalgia is good for the soul, ain't it?'
'Definitely. Although... Are you sure you haven't played Smash before?'
'Weeelllll... I admit I have played some of the newer ones at parties and such, but I really thought it'd be completely different on such an older console.'
Your cheeks were hot at the reveal, it wasn't as if you'd lied, but the suggestion you'd done so to get him to help you was an interesting one.
A small smile on his lips, he fixed you with a playful glare, the crinkling of his nose a dead giveaway. Never the less you played along, dropping your phone to the bar top and raising your hands in the air as if to profess your innocence.
'I promise. Next time though, I'll have to get your help on something else, something have no idea about, maybe Pikmin? I assure you I have absolutely no clue about that game.' Your face as stoic as you could manage, not very stoic at all, you watched as his smile splurged into a wide grin as his eyes looked between you and the phone discarded on the between you on the bench.
The device was hugged by a bright red silicone case with a telling red stem that ended in a single green leaf dangling off the top end.
You continued, 'What even is a Pikmin?' Getting the question past your lips without laughing between syllables was a struggle, but a worthy one as he soon broke into giggles at your sincerity.
'Well, you seem completely cluel-' He was interrupted as your phone rung out a hearty Pikmin!
'... Completely clueless... and that's okay, I'm happy to help.'
'You're too kind...' You trailed off realising you still didn't know his name.
'OH... I'm Spencer by the way,' Nodding, you failed to supress the smile that had spread across your lips as you spoke,
'Well, Spencer, I really need your help. So how about nex-'
Pikmin!
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1d1195 · 2 years ago
Text
Traditional IX
You can read Traditional here.
This part is 7.5K words of almost entirely fluff. It's kind of a mess but I think it's a good mess. I thought of a few more things that I could do in the future so might squeeze an extra part or two out of it. Might involve some angst though :) :) :) Hope you enjoy!
Carefully, he leaned over the side of the basin, and tangled his fingers through her hair and started massaging the pads of his fingertips against her scalp. She sighed. “You gotta be careful or I’ll never leave this tub.”
If it meant he could always wake up and find her here, he’d massage her hair forever and draw a bath for her every day of their lives.
The phone only rang once before it was answered. She felt bad that he was probably hovering by the phone for the last two hours waiting for someone to call him back. “Is she okay?!”
She thought about the last time she saw her phone. It was either in the driver’s car or back in Niall’s office. But now that Harry had forgiven her, a little sliver of pain relieved after the horrible day, all the tears, sobs, plus lack of sleep caught up to her very tired mind. Her head was aching. She wanted to just lay in absolute silence and wish for sleep to come so she could just shut down for a while. But she had to make this phone call first.
Harry was in the kitchen, once more taking care of her. Gathering water and medicine for her tired body. “I’m fine,” she answered the panicked voice at the other end as gently as possible. Her heart rate was settling, and she thought she might fall asleep right there on the comfiest couch she had ever had the pleasure of sitting on. But she needed to make sure Louis knew she was alright. Since her phone was MIA, she used Harry’s.
First came the loudest relieved sigh she had ever heard. “Fucking hell, babe, what the fuck,” Louis sounded distraught. She remembered the last time Louis ever sounded so upset. Back when she was eighteen and asked if he could help her move out after he had gone away to university. After one of the hardest tragedies of their young lives she wanted Louis and Eleanor to just live two years post-grad in ignorant bliss of anything that was happening to her. They checked in so regularly, but she kept her life at home so hidden.
When Louis found out, saw, and heard…
It was the only other time because she vowed to herself that she would never be the reason for the anxiety laced in his otherwise happy-go-lucky attitude. But here they were anyway; both of them upset beyond words. “You scared me half to death!” He did sound scared. He sounded close to tears. Just like he never sounded distraught, it was even more rare of an occasion that Louis shed tears.
“I’m sor—”
“No, absolutely not,” he interrupted. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she could hear him shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him. “I’m not mad. I’ve just been worried sick. I thought you were at Harry’s this whole time...what took you so long to answer—”
“It’s a long story,” she mumbled. “I don’t want to ruin your weekend more than I already have.”
“You didn’t ruin it,” Eleanor’s voice appeared at the other end of the line. It must have been on speakerphone.  “We were worried,” she said gently. “Tell us what happened, love,” She prompted.
So, she rehashed the story. The third time in half a dozen hours. Harry handed her water and medicine part way through. Sitting beside her, he watched as she spoke each individual word. Her voice was devoid of emotion through most of it. Louis and Eleanor must have asked questions, but she answered them all. Spared no details. But he caught the flicker of blush on her cheeks as she explained that awful story about the horrible woman that spouted lies about knowing Harry’s likes and dislikes.
“I’m at Harry’s now,” she shrugged. Harry worried about her well-being. That was a lot to happen in one day. A lot of emotions wreaking havoc on her body. Maybe it was shock again because she seemed so at ease chatting with her friends on the phone. Like they were catching up after a holiday. “I’m very tired,” she admitted. There was a pause before she smiled weakly then nodded. Harry couldn’t hear but he thought they were telling her to sleep. “I love you both so much,” she whispered. “Can I pay for you to get an extra day to make up for—” She pulled the phone from her ear quickly before her thought was finished. Harry couldn’t make out the words, but he definitely heard yelling from the couple. She giggled tiredly, her eyes drooping by the second.
“Oh, I’ll take that now,” Harry murmured putting the phone to his ear now that she was trying to take care of her friends all while draining the last bit of her energy of the day. Within seconds, as if she wasn’t in control of her own body, she leaned toward Harry, placing her head on his thigh and sighed contentedly and let her eyelids finally close. “Hello?” He said to the phone gently.
There was a moment of hesitation. A deep shaky breath. “Harry, if you break that poor girl’s heart, so help me God, I will murder you without a second thought,” Louis promised.
“Lou,” Eleanor said tentatively. El knew the poor girl would be embarrassed by Louis if she was awake to hear it.
Harry smirked and placed his hand on her head gently combing her hair around her ear and watched the evenness of her breath move her body while she laid quietly on his lap. Harry was so relieved she was okay. He was even happier she was right there for him to watch her and make sure she was okay. “Louis, I’d hand you the knife,” he promised.
*
He let her lay there for a long while—almost an hour. He scrolled through his phone shortly after she fell asleep, after he assured Louis and Eleanor that he would take care of her. He even suggested they do take the extra day for their anniversary weekend. “I think it would make her feel better if y’did,” he explained. “I know m’still new in her life, but I think we all know she’d feel unnecessarily guilty for worrying y’on your holiday,” Harry reminded them. After a hearty agreement, Harry also knew they were two of the people who loved her most in the world, they’d do anything to make her feel better too.
After that, he made his call to Niall.
“Is she alright?” He asked without any greeting. It wasn’t uncommon for there to be no greeting when they chatted anyway. Harry felt no jealousy at all. Especially after his conversation with Gemma. He felt good old-fashioned love for Niall who clearly cared deeply about the sweet girl laying across his couch and lap. “I tried calling her, but her phone was in the office. I have it with me because I thought if she was going—”
“Oh good, she was worried ‘bout that,” Harry mumbled. He didn’t want to move an inch because he just wanted this poor girl to rest.
“I’ll bring it by...is she okay?” He asked again.
“‘Bout as good as y’can expect.”
“She’s there?” Niall wondered.
“Where else would I let her go?” Harry smirked sadly. Niall informed him he really wasn’t sure. It was time for the story he heard twice now from Niall’s point of view. He only told Harry about her leaving and coming back in the simplest of details. How she asked him not to tell Harry about the harassment and so forth. Pair that with knowing her phone didn’t make it with her to the car, he wasn’t certain she was going to make it to Harry’s.
It was pitch-black dark outside. Since she fell asleep so suddenly, he didn’t have time to turn the lights on or anything. Only the kitchen light half illuminated the living area. He tilted his head against the back of the sofa, taking the new version of her story once more from Niall’s perspective. “Niall, m’sorry for being such a prick,” he said.
“It’s already forgotten,” Niall said kindly. “We all do crazy things for the people we love. Just make sure she knows she didn’t ruin our friendship,” Niall had a smirk in his voice and Harry felt a flutter in his heart at that not-so-little L-word. “Also, I would like to be part of the exit interview when you fire that horrific woman, if you want to truly make amends.”
Harry chuckled quietly. “That can be arranged,” he murmured. “Can y’pick up some food for us on the way? I imagine she hasn’t eaten today. I’ll wake her up and make sure she eats before bed.”
“Yeah, yeah. Course. Just let me know.”
It was another half hour before Niall said he had food in his car and would be ten minutes. In that time, he texted his lawyer asking what he could do about her situation to make it painless as possible. Then he sent another text to the driver requesting to follow her.
Once he received Niall’s message that he was enroute with food, he started to wake her up. “Hey there,” he hummed gently rubbing the length of her arm. “Kitten, wake up, please,” he whispered and gave her the gentlest little shake he could muster. “Niall’s bringing us some food, love,” he told her. At the same moment her stomach growled very loudly. He smirked feeling grateful he was waking her up to eat.
“I guess m’hungry,” she mumbled and slowly sat up. “Oof. My head,” she winced pressing one hand to each of her temples. A wave of dizziness and pain rolled over her exhausted mind like she was hungover.
Harry immediately brought his hands over top of hers and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. It made her fuzzy mind warm over with adoration for Harry. While he pressed a simple kiss to her head, all he could think was he was going to have a hard time letting her go to the bathroom of all things. All he wanted was to keep touching her and consoling her. “M’so sorry, baby,” he whispered.
“Harry?” She asked tentatively.
He frowned. He sensed he wasn’t going to like her follow up question. “Yes, kitten?”
“If you’re not too busy, could I stay the weekend? I really don’t want to be alone,” she said rubbing one eye.
He didn’t like that she felt like she had to ask. Part of him thought it was understood she would be there all weekend. But he was glad she wanted to ask and did ask. If all this had happened a few weeks prior she might not have been asking. “Mi casa es su casa,” he answered simply. She smirked. “Of course, love.”
“I just need a moment,” she said standing and made her way for the bathroom. Harry nodded watching her like she might fall to pieces just by standing. His leg was numb from sitting in the same position for almost an hour along with her head resting on his thigh. There wasn’t an ounce of complaining about it in his body, but he got up and stretched it a bit—he called his lawyer back while he wiggled his leg and paced the floor a bit. He turned on some more lights so everyone could see. Especially the outside one for Niall’s arrival. He did show up shortly after that. “I’ll call you back,” he said to his phone as he held the door open for Niall to bring the food inside.
He smiled at her as she reentered the kitchen while he and Harry got the takeout boxes settled. “Hey darling, you look like you’re feeling much better,” he chuckled and gave her a side hug with a kiss to the top of her head.
Harry was thrilled he wasn’t the least bit jealous of their physical interaction. It really made it seem like he was jealous of her not talking to him. Even just thinking about that bristled him a bit. He was irritated that she didn’t feel comfortable talking to him the way she did with Niall.
How were they supposed to get married if she wouldn’t tell him her every thought? It was an irrational worry, but he couldn’t help thinking about it.
Harry smirked despite the nagging little thought, as he set her food out. “I think that’s damning by faint praise. I don’t think I could look worse than earlier,” she snorted. Harry rolled his eyes and Niall laughed a bit more.
“So hard on yourself, darling,” he shook his head. Harry let them chat while they all ate quietly. Harry wanted to put her to bed and massage her head so she could relax. But he liked that Niall was good at keeping her chatting, distracting her. Harry was too nervous and busy cooing about her to hold a real conversation right now. Plus, he didn’t want to make her cry any more than she probably would on her own—if only because her head was still hurting her. He could see it on the little pinch of skin between her eyebrows and he wished she would just go to sleep so she could feel better.
“Do you need some time off…the whole week to get things figured out?” Niall asked. His voice was quiet and gentle—like he didn’t want to ask her. Harry was glad he asked it because it was an important question, and he was worried he would accidentally force her to take the week off if he tried asking.
“No,” she shook her head quickly. “That’s the last thing I want,” she emphasized the word last as she put the forkful of food to her mouth. Niall and Harry glanced at each other for just one moment. Harry shrugged one shoulder hoping she didn’t notice. “I’m sad, not blind.” He smirked despite himself. Niall tried to cover his laugh with a throat clearing. “Mom probably doesn’t want me there,” she said casually. Like it wasn’t the death of a parent. Like it was a birthday dinner. Or a doctor’s appointment. Her tone and words broke Harry’s heart. How could someone not love her? He truly couldn’t imagine. He wanted to ask why her mother wouldn’t forgive her, but it wasn’t his place to ask. Plus, (even though he might disagree with her mother’s choice and ignoring her very much perfect daughter) who was he to judge how she chose to grieve for another child? He wished with everything in him that they cared for her the way they were supposed to...before it was too late. She was so special, and it was unfair she didn’t have the support she deserved. “I don’t know. Maybe Louis will know what to do when he gets back...so I’ll at least work through Tuesday.”
“Well, whatever you need,” Niall shrugged. “I don’t want to hold you from sleep. You could use a ton of it. Thanks for the food, Harry,” he smiled. The poor thing was getting droopy eyed again. Niall kissed the top of her head and gave a wave as he headed out. “Call if you need me!”
*
She claimed it was much too early to go to bed. It wasn’t, but Harry would have agreed the sky was red if it came from her lips. He wasn’t arguing with her at all this weekend. Whatever her heart wanted, it was all hers. Her sleepiness wore quick, and she fell asleep almost immediately as The Good Place played while he rubbed her feet in his lap. Or at least, he thought she was asleep. “Harry,” she mumbled.
“Yes, kitten?” He asked curiously looking at her half sleeping figure.
“Would you ever do all this for…a regular companion?”
He shook his head. He would do anything for her, answer any question, but he wished she wasn’t worried about this right now. “No, but you’re very different than all the other ones.”
“You don’t have to pay me as much…since I don’t…” she trailed off.
“Kitten, I’d simply pay you more if y’did,” he had a sad smile on his lips as he spoke. That’s not why he wanted her. He meant it from the moment he responded to her over six months ago.
“Hardly seems fair,” she muttered. “I think you need to reevaluate our agreement. I know I’m not CEO, but I know a thing or two about supply and demand and cost efficiency.”
He chuckled. “Love, why are y’worrying about this right now?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. Her eyes were still closed. “I worry a lot about other people,” she told him.
He couldn’t argue with that. “I noticed.”
They were quiet for a long while. Harry pressed his thumbs into the soles of her feet noting every little sigh that escaped her lips. Eventually he noticed her light snores. He carefully moved her feet to the side and slid off the couch. With a blanket he had tossed over the back, he covered her lightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He didn’t want to leave her there, but he wanted to take the next step in making sure she had everything she needed to recover from such a horrible couple of days.
*
She doesn’t know when she woke up, but Harry was backlit by the TV, knelt beside her. His hands were gentle as he rubbed her arm. “Hey, love. I ran you a bath.”
The last time she took a bath was surely in childhood. But Harry looked so proud that he did the right thing. She felt woozy again as she stood. Her brain aching but she wasn’t due for medicine for a while. A bath and some sleep might do some good. Harry led her to the bathroom and started to pull her clothes off: the cozy sweater, the silky blouse, and the dark dress pants that tied around her waist.
She wanted to protest out of awkwardness and shyness. She couldn’t believe Harry was undressing her again without the pretense of more, but Harry was acting like this was normal. Almost as if he was pretending, he didn’t notice what he was doing fully. His mind wasn’t on the fact she was naked before him, he was just taking care of her. She didn’t even blush as he did so.
He had a little towel folded where her head rested, and she sank into the warm water. Of course, Harry made sure the house was a comfortable room temperature given the winter air outside, but until she was slipping into the water, she was reminded it was the dead of winter and the water was so warm against the cold air. “Hmm,” she sighed. Harry rolled his sleeves up—she noticed he changed into a pair of joggers and a long sleeve T-shirt. Carefully, he leaned over the side of the basin, and tangled his fingers through her hair and started massaging the pads of his fingertips against her scalp. She sighed. “You gotta be careful or I’ll never leave this tub.”
If it meant he could always wake up and find her here, he’d massage her hair forever and draw a bath for her every day of their lives.
*
After the water started to cool and she was nearly back to sleep once more, Harry gently coaxed her to stand. Harry had the fluffiest towels. Like a hotel. She loved his washer and dryer. Everything about him and his house was a warm hug. She was going to hate leaving it in the spring. He wrapped her in one of the fluffy towels and helped her step out of the tub. “M’sleepy,” she mumbled.
“I know, beautiful,” he hummed. “Just wanna get y’dressed.”
“I don’t have clothes.”
Harry bit his lip and in her sleepy, grief-stricken mind she swore his cheeks had turned pink. “I…I may have had Gemma order some things for y’back when y’were all burned so y’always had stuff here,” he gestured to the folded pile on the sink counter.
If she wasn’t so tired, she probably would have asked a hundred questions. Did he snoop through her clothes looking for sizes when she wasn’t looking? Why did he get expensive brands like Lulu Lemon?  That seemed so excessive even for him. She didn’t even own it. How much did he get? And of course, had he ever done this before for someone else?
But the gesture was so sweet she was rendered speechless. Without any kind of fanfare, he handed her the pair of underwear still packaged in plastic while he pulled the tag off the shirt while he waited for her to slide them on. He did the same with the sweatpants. This was by far one of the kindest things any man had ever done for her.
Harry stepped out of the bathroom and headed to “her” bedroom. He tugged the covers back and left the room. She frowned sliding between the sheets thinking he was leaving her just like that. Harry returned quickly with an assortment of items in his arms. Her phone, a glass of water, pills, and a book tucked under his arm. “I…I don’t read much. But I do like this one. Thought y’might like it,” he sounded so shy. “And I know y’like t’have a book nearby.”
After having his sister order clothes for her, this had to be the second sweetest thing a man had ever done for her.
For the last half hour, the bath, the head massage, the book, and the clothes…she almost forgot the last day and a half was so terrible. Harry was pure medicine for her tired body and mind. She wished she was there for a normal circumstance.
“Do you have everything you need?” He asked. “Can I get you anything else?”
You. She shook her head. “I feel like a princess,” she mumbled. He smiled and brushed his thumb on her cheek.
“Think y’are one, love,” he pressed a long kiss to the middle of her forehead. “Shout if y’need something. Sleep well, beautiful,” he whispered.
As he turned to leave, at the last second, she grabbed his hand and pulled lightly. He stumbled a bit as he turned back to her. She clutched her hand around his instinctively. Held tight. It took her a minute to realize she had even reached for him.
He couldn’t believe her beautiful doe-eyed expression. Surely, she was the most gorgeous thing to ever exist. Harry swore his heart softened into mush as he looked her over for signs of tears or sadness. He knew he looked on with confusion, but he loved how her hand felt wrapped around his.
She didn’t say anything, and after a second, she just lifted the covers up in invitation.
Harry didn’t hesitate to slip in beside and wrap his body around hers. He flipped over to the other side of her. She pressed her face against his chest. He held her so close. For the last thirty odd hours she felt so broken emotionally, mentally, and physically.
With Harry wrapped around her, she finally felt whole.
*
Harry woke up still snuggled up to her. He carefully reached over her sleeping figure for a sip of her water and did his best not to disturb her. But she was pressing her fingertips over his chest like she was playing an imaginary piano. “Are y’awake, love?” He whispered. She nodded. It was so dark and so quiet in the room. “Are y’okay?” He asked.
She nodded again. “You worry too much about me,” her voice was soft and quiet. The only kind of voice that could be used at one thirty in the morning.
He had one arm wrapped beneath her neck and pillow, crooked around her so his arm wouldn’t go numb, but he could still hold her tight. The other draped over her waist. He nodded in response to her statement. “You gave me quite the scare over the last day.”
“I’ve been dealt worse hands,” she responded dryly.
“You certainly use humor as a main coping mechanism.”
“It drove my therapist nuts,” she had a touch of laughter in her breathy whisper. Harry never gave much thought to her family because she didn’t. As far as he could tell, Louis and Eleanor were her family. But it made sense she went to therapy for all she had gone through at sixteen. He wondered if she ever still went but didn’t want to ask something so personal. “Whatcha thinking about Mr. Styles? Me in a straitjacket?”
He snorted quietly. “Hardly…how long did y’go t’therapy for?
“Two years, every two weeks. Then once every other month all through university. I don’t go anymore,” he was a little grateful she volunteered the information without him having to ask. He would worry endlessly if she wasn’t feeling up to par and felt like she had to hide something that was helping her well-being.
“No?”
“I mean. I’ll probably make an appointment now but no. I haven’t had an appointment in a while.”
“Why’s that?” He had to know.
She didn’t respond to that question, however. She thought telling him that she met a guy who actually worried about her in such a casual way would send Harry into cardiac arrest. “Do you like the night?” She asked instead.
Harry didn’t mind that she didn’t answer. It wasn’t that important. “Hmm?”
“I’m a morning person. But I think when you can’t see the other person, night is better. Much more revealing.”
“Tell me something then,” Harry lazily drew shapes along her arm that looped back over his torso.
“I just told you about therapy. Your turn.”
He chuckled under his breath. “I’ll tell y’anything y’want t’know.”
She waited a minute. “Do you really like pineapple on pizza?” She whispered.
He laughed almost loudly. Especially for nearly two in the morning. “Yes, kitten.”
She sighed. “I really had a chance of falling for you and everything.”
“Is that so?”
She didn’t want to repeat that mainly because it was a lie. She had already fallen so hard. So, she moved onto her next question. “What did you do on movie night?” She asked.
“I went to the gym and took m’frustration out on a punching bag.”
She ignored the idea of angry Harry. Especially because of her. “Do you go to the gym a lot?” She wondered.
“Usually at the company one during the day.”
They chatted for about half an hour. Talking about random things. Harry laughed a lot at her jokes, and she enjoyed the feel of his fingers continuously running along the inside of her arm and sliding up to comb through her hair. “Kitten,” he mumbled as she got sleepier. Her answers and questions less vibrant in tone as she started drifting back to sleep.
“Hmm?”
“Do you remember when I was sick?” He asked. She nodded against his arm. “You called me baby a lot when I was getting less foggy,” he said. “I didn’t know why.”
Harry could feel the smile moving her cheeks with her face pressed to her arms. “You asked me to. Said it made you feel better.”
He smirked, felt his cheeks warm knowing he asked her for such a silly but somewhat intimate thing. “Oh,” he chuckled. “Sorry.”
She was quiet for a moment. Harry almost thought she fell asleep. “I didn’t mind.”
His heart felt so warm. “You can call me ‘baby’ anytime,” he told her.
She yawned and nuzzled her nose against his T-shirt in response. Again, he thought she’d fallen asleep when she answered him once more. “Night, baby.”
“Good night, love.”
*
Harry once more stilled her hand as she reached for the car door once they were parked. He got out quickly and hurried to her side of the car to open the door. “I didn’t know you knew how to drive,” she giggled.
“Hardy-har,” he rolled his eyes holding his hand out for her as she exited the car. They were outside an electronics store. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he went shopping in person and out from behind his computer screen. It seemed like fun to get out of the house. Especially since she only had one request when she woke up that morning in the circle of Harry’s arms. “I don’t want to think about it today. Is that alright?”
“Harry,” she said alertly, alarm in her voice and pulled on his hand with a quick tug right before he walked into traffic as a car passed by. He smirked and looked back at her. Apparently, it had been long enough that he wasn’t as mindful about parking lots as he should have been.
“Thanks kitten. Keep hold of this for me? Don’t want to get hurt,” He said squeezing his hand in hers. His smile was flirty and adorable. She loved weekend Harry. The last time she spent the whole weekend with him was when she wasn’t up to par. Maybe emotionally she still wasn’t up to snuff, but this was better than him having to worry about her burns by far.
How was Harry going to deny any request for the girl he was so enthralled with?
She kept hold of his hand and she thought from the outside they must look like a regular old couple. No one would question it. He guided her through the doors and to the back where the laptops were displayed. She perused them for a while. “M’so sorry love. I’m getting a phone call,” he gave her hand a squeeze and made way for the exit in case he needed better reception outside. “Styles,” he spoke clearly. She smirked and continued her search.
She looked at the different brands. Sure, Harry had a ton of money but of course she wasn’t going to pick the most expensive one just for the sake of it. She didn’t do much on her laptop except type her reflections these days, shop online every so often, and watch Netflix. “Can I help you?” The person working in the computer section asked. “That’s a fairly good one you’re looking at,” he told her.
She touched the keyboard. “My current one died,” she explained. “But I liked it. So, I figured maybe I’d just get a new one of the same kind.”
“Can I persuade you to a different brand? It would be much better,” he said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want you to have a poor laptop.”
She knew where this was going based on the way his eyes sparkled. It didn’t seem to matter if she thought so poorly of herself. She was a girl in the electronics section and if it wasn’t the employee, it would have been a random man showing off his knowledge trying to convince her that he could take care of her needs. She sighed. “I’m not sure...I like this one.”
He was about to launch into a story about why it was better. She was prepared to listen politely but ultimately, she would probably pick this one. However, he kept encroaching on her personal space, and it was making her a bit weary as he explained the better quality of RAM and storage on the other brand he wanted to suggest. She was nearly bored to sleep when he brushed his hand on her arm. With little notice of just how close he was, she jerked back awkwardly and bumped into something solid behind her. Whatever it was, it only gave just enough to cradle her before she fell completely backward. “Hi beautiful,” Harry muttered holding her up. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head as he kept her steady. Then he looped his fingers back through hers. “Find one you liked?” He asked but he was staring at the employee who looked shocked.
“Umm… yeah. This one,” she pointed confused by how calm Harry was being. He nearly broke his friendship with Niall when he saw him touching her. How was he so rational over a stranger? Her heart fluttered violently. Harry glanced at the specifications printed on the little display model and then turned to the worker.
“Can we have the top version of this one,” he asked.
“Harry,” she whispered. “I don’t—”
“Right away,” the poor guy said hurrying behind the doors nearby to get the best model.
“Stupid idiot,” Harry grunted under his breath. How could he not know she was here with someone? How could he think she would fall for someone that was trying to dissuade her opinion of which laptop she wanted? Harry needed to be more careful when he left her alone.
Oh. He was very mad. She felt her face warm. “Harry?” She asked tentatively. He squeezed her hand.
“Yes, love?” He murmured.
“I don’t need to get the fanciest one,” she whispered. He squeezed her hand again, reassuringly.
“Mmm…”
“Harry, I swear I didn’t flirt or anything,” she promised.
He scoffed. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “You’re not seriously apologizing for someone else’s behavior?” She bit her lip. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed another kiss on the top of her head. “Shh,” he hushed as the worker returned. “Thanks,” Harry said grabbing the box from his hands and turning the two of them away from the display. He brought her along the back wall to look at laptop cases. “Want one?”
“Umm…I don’t know. I don’t think I really need one...I already have one that would probably fit this—"
“I like this one with the sunflowers on it. It looks like something you’d like,” he said pointing to one of the cases on the wall.
She blinked. “I remind you of sunflowers?”
“You wore this dress with sunflowers on it back in September when you first started,” he shrugged. “Thought you looked adorable.”
Her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she grabbed at the case immediately. “Yes, I want it.”
He smiled. “Do you want anything else?”
She shook her head. “No this is plenty.”
He steered her toward the checkout line. The guy at the counter rang her stuff quickly, Harry accepted the five-year warranty that she normally skimped out on because it seemed useless. Harry slid his black AmEx card through not even registering the total at all. She did though, and she couldn’t imagine spending that much on something for herself in one go.
Harry opened her car door for her as she got inside. She was buckling herself when Harry got in on his side and in one motion, maneuvered so the back of her head pressed firmly against the headrest and his lips attached to hers. He devoured her breath. Making her already cloudy head spin. Pulling back, he pecked at her lips a few more times. She felt totally breathless. All Harry did was smirk at her and then reached up to brush his thumb over her cheek. Then starting his car up, he drove off without a word.
She would never intentionally make Harry jealous. But she liked it when the rewards of his jealousy resulted in kisses for her.
*
They were almost finished with The Good Place. A few more episodes were left when she felt a bit hungry. “Can we have breakfast for dinner?”
“What am I gonna make y’in the morning, then?” He smirked at her giving her arm a squeeze. They were snuggled up on the couch, again like an ordinary couple.
She frowned so cutely. Her little pout made his heart melt. He would have made her breakfast any time of day she wanted, multiple times a day, and he would eat it happily. “Well, I’m going to be sad tomorrow, and I don’t want to ruin breakfast by being sad,” she explained.
It was his turn to frown. “You’re gonna be sad tomorrow?” He asked.
“I think I have to deal with it, no?” She muttered.
Harry sighed. He hadn’t gotten an update from the lawyer since he stepped out of the electronics store earlier in the day. He was hoping for better news before he gave her information. Before she had to be sad. He didn’t ask them to go in guns ablaze. He just wanted to make sure her mum had everything she needed and that all would be taken care of so that she wouldn’t shorten the poor girl that had already lost so much. After the terrible day she had, he just wanted to give her the quiet and perfect weekend she deserved. Filled with kisses, good food, snuggles, and TV... and maybe a book if she wanted.
“Maybe y’should wait until Louis and Eleanor get back?” He suggested casually. “Gives y’more time t’recover...and if y’need t’take a day or two, love—”
“Okay,” she interrupted quickly but it was still sweet as syrup the way she said it. “I’ll think about it. Maybe Tuesday or something would be better.”
He sighed with relief quietly. Grateful he’d have the weekend to spoil her and figure out more details on the law end of things. Maybe he could even run it by Louis to get a bit more of the picture.
But for now, he would make her an omelet, pancakes, French toast, or even crepes if she wanted.
*
After their breakfast for dinner, Harry had her lying against his chest while the last of the episodes played. She was a quiet thing when she slept. He didn’t notice she had fallen asleep until the show was over, the screen dark, and he heard the quiet, rhythmic breaths coming from her. He kissed her forehead and shifted awkwardly until she was cradled against him, and he carried her down the hall to his bedroom. If she was okay with sleeping together last night, he hoped she wouldn’t mind tonight.
Plus, his bed was larger. He placed her in the middle and managed to shimmy the covers beneath her body. He slid in beside her and kissed her forehead once more. She cuddled against him silently, without waking. He sighed, completely content with the scent of her shampoo filling his brain. It was like a potion clouding his mind with overwhelming emotions of adoring her.
“Baby?” She hummed after several moments. Harry was almost asleep himself when she spoke.
God, he loved that word coming from her mouth directed at him. “Hmm? Need something, love?” He whispered.
“Did you carry me?”
He chuckled. “Yes, kitten.”
“Don’t do that again.”
“No promises.”
She pinched his shoulder without any pain. “Cheeky.” More silence. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”
“Course, angel. Wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”
“I meant your bed.”
“I did too.”
*
At one in the morning, they shared more secrets. Harry told her about some of his university days. Told her about a couple of his girlfriends and why they didn’t work out. He even chatted about some of his companions. She talked about the ex that cheated on her. How he never really understood her grief. “Sounds like he did y’a favor, love,” he said distastefully. He played with a strand of her hair running it against the side of her cheek. Harry adored her so heavily it shocked him that she didn’t have droves of men asking her to marry them.
“Well now I think he did...because I have a taste of the life I always wanted. A cute little office, almost finished with my second degree, and a cute guy that makes me breakfast and owns a porch swing,” she said dreamily. “What else does life have to offer?”
He chuckled. “A porch swing?”
“I would sleep out there if it was acceptable.” He kept that in mind. He wanted her to live here so badly. He would do anything to have her wake up in his arms always. He would chat with her at one in the morning every day as long as he lived. This was the most whole and perfect he felt in a long while.
“When’s your graduation ceremony?” The reminder she was almost done with her degree prompted him to start planning the rest of their lives. Also, he wanted to get her a really good gift.
“I’m not going,” she shook her head.
“Kitten,” his tone was admonishing. “You have to.”
She shook her head. “I went to my brother’s and Louis’ right before it happened...I wouldn’t want to upset Louis again thinking about it. Course Mom would never come,” she almost had an eyeroll in her voice. “I don’t see much point. It’s usually a family event...and I don’t really have one of those.”
He frowned. Of course, she was worried about everyone else. “Love, y’should be celebrated. S’a big deal.”
She shrugged. “I’d go by myself. I wouldn’t get any pictures...I just...I don’t know. I told El and Lou they don’t have a ceremony for my program...” He bit the inside of his lip. He would have to figure it out. Her best friends would love to go. He, of course, would be there with confetti for her. And he was certain Niall would love to go, too.
“Can y’think about it some more?” He asked quietly.
She nodded. “Sure.”
“No, really,” he rolled his eyes at her quick response.
Sighing, she took another deep breath and nodded firmly. “I will, baby.”
“Don’t distract me by calling me baby,” he said kissing her forehead.
“Did it work?” She giggled.
“Yes.”
*
Harry woke up smushed against his pillow. She was sitting up and reading the book he selected for her. Her hand was massaging against his scalp while tangling her fingers in his hair. He would love to live like this forever. It felt like magic. “D’you like it?” He mumbled and wrapped his arm over her lap.
She nodded. “It’s very good.”
He smiled and enjoyed the feel of her fingers in his hair for a little while longer. “D’you want more breakfast?” He asked. She put the book aside and wiggled until she was face to face with him. She slid her fingers over his face and admired how perfect he looked. Just a bit of sleep was still in his eyes as he tried to wake up. An adorable smile filling his face and the greenest eyes she ever had the pleasure of looking at. He looked a bit scruffy because he hadn’t shaved in a while. He didn’t usually need to shave all that often, but she noticed he hadn’t done so in over a week and a half. “What?” He asked with the most adorable smirk on his face.
He was way too good for her. Paying her for any reason, taking care of her, all of it was way too much. Especially after her terrible days. This wasn’t why he paid her. All she could think about now was sunflowers when she looked at him. The book he recommended on the side table. How he carried her to bed. In a couple months this would all be over. She would have a new job, a new apartment, and Harry wouldn’t make her breakfast anymore.
The thought saddened her so much. Once more she wished she had met him online. Or didn’t intern at Styles Incorporated. Maybe if they weren’t so tied together, they could have something more. Harry never pressured her in the rapidly approaching seven months they’d known one another.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his as she had many times before. He looped his arm around her, pulled her closer while he ran his tongue along her lip while reaching for the side of her face with his other hand. She sighed contentedly as he held her and kissed her for so long.
“Kitten,” he said pulling away from her mouth abruptly as her hands drifted down his torso and fiddled with the elastic of his pants.
Blushing, she glanced at him awkwardly. “Please?” She whispered.
“Oh hell, love,” he moaned. “Don’t need t’do that,” his voice was so deep as he mumbled the words. Her soft pleaded request, the doe-eyes...almost had him finishing before they even started. “Are y’sure?” He asked. She nodded silently. Harry kissed her again and again and again and again...
*
She was so quiet afterward. Hell, she was quiet during it. Harry was terrified that she didn’t like it...or worse regretted it. She rested her head against his chest, eyes closed. “We missed breakfast,” she whispered so casually Harry was grateful she finally spoke.
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Can still have it,” he told her.
She shook her head. “Want pasta...and garlic bread.”
“Whatever you want,” he promised.
“Whatever I want?” She hummed. You. You. You. She thought.
“M-hmm...” Forever. Whatever you want, forever. He wanted to say.
“Don’t think you’re ready for that just yet,” she whispered drawing a tantalizing little circle just below where his belt would sit.
“Insatiable,” he mumbled and rolled over, so he was hovering above her. He smiled down at her and then pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. “Give me a minute,” he said and bent down to kiss the length of her jaw, down her neck, over her collarbone, the length of her sternum...down further until there was nowhere else to go.
She giggled and Harry wished with everything in him that Monday would never arrive because this was the most perfect Sunday in existence. Just her right there in his bed. A book by her side. The most beautiful smile he could dream of on the most perfect girl he could imagine.
--
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cossiedxll · 9 months ago
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"i love you, it's ruining my life."
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| being bailed out by your ex is sure to bring back lingering feelings, no?
| dazai osamu x reader
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˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: pm!reader and ada!dazai. dazai is reader's ex lover from the port mafia. gn reader. reader and dazai are both in their 20s. incorrect jail description. not proof read, apologies for any grammatical mistakes! might be incredibly ooc and might contain wrong information about the port mafia, apologies for both.
˓ ꒱ authors notes: in light of taylor swift's new album coming out, i'm trying my hand at writing for dazai!! i'm bad at writing angst so please bare with me. :(
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the cold metal confinements are tight around wrists, the officers must've cuffed you a tiny bit too tightly you think. the blank grey walls of your prison are as uninspiring as your thoughts, you can't even find it in yourself to even try to escape from jail. to the majority of the members in the Port Mafia, crime was almost always a guarantee during missions. treading the lines of the law was a common thing, most missions included breaking those precious regulations. it was almost like the law had just become mere suggestions, guidance that you could choose to follow or not.
and sadly for you, the hands of the law had finally caught up with you this time, confining you into a bland concrete box. you were currently sitting on the bed that came with every little cell. not even sitting on it was comfortable, much less laying down on it. despite how uncomfortable the bed was, it would be quiet a pathetic sight for a Port Mafia executive to be sitting on the floor and just staring at the wall so you decided against it.
normally whenever you were unlucky enough to have been caught by the law, someone from the Port Mafia would bail you out, namely Mori or maybe some other executive. you weren't too surprised when an officer informed you that you had been bailed out, preparing your usual apology and to listen through a few lectures from whoever bailed you out on to be more careful during missions.
you're escorted out of your little concrete box, you wonder if the officer is going to remove the hand cuffs around your wrists. you follow the officer down the prison hallway, thankful to not be sitting on that god awful bed that you could've sworn was just a rock with a blanket draped over it. you're expecting to be met with a very displeased boss, preparing your apology for your clumsiness in being caught when.. you don't see him at all. in fact, you see someone you thought you'd never see again.
he looks.. different. he's grown taller, you're sure of it. he's been ridden of his usual black trench coat you always saw him in, his right eye and cheek no longer being covered by the fabric of gauze. instead, he's wearing a tan trench coat now, a bolo tie replacing his usual tie when he was in the Port Mafia. his hair messy and curly, not that it was ever neat, god no. you stare at the absence of bandages around his right eye and cheek, revealing his complete face and you can't help but mentally kick yourself for staring a little longer than necessary.
and suddenly, you become hyper aware of the sinking feeling in your stomach. it makes you sick to look at him, sick that your brain subconsciously forces you to relive your shared memories together. you avert your gaze down to the grey grounds of the prison lobby, unable to meet his gaze without glaring bitterly at him. your ex had apparently bailed you out of jail. your ex boyfriend from years ago when you both were in the Port Mafia. a cocky little smirk adorned his features, maybe he hasn't changed that much in some ways.
you find it in yourself to look up at him, emotions brewing behind your eyes. anger, confusion.. mostly anger, and yet you find it in your heart to feel relief at that fact that he's alright. that's he's not harmed. he had up and left without a word, not even a goodbye to you. you worried for him days on end, calling and texting but to no avail which ended up in you just calling it a breakup, calling him your ex boyfriend. despite the relief, it's minuscule in terms of your anger towards the man you once loved. you glare at him, glare at his stupid cocky smirk and how he seems like he doesn't even care about the history between you two. it's like nothing ever happened between the both of you.
"you're the one who bailed me out? what is this, some sick game you've decided to play?" you scoff at him, there was no way he just.. decided to bail out a Port Mafia executive out of the goodness of his heart, no.. no no no. that couldn't be true. "shame, not even a thank you?" you roll your eyes at his feigned sigh of disappointment. an officer releases your wrists from the metal confinements, red mark were already formed on your wrist. you bring your hands to your wrists, trying to soothe your irritated skin from how tight the hand cuffs were. you don't realise the look in his eyes, the slight change in his expression when he noticed the marks on your wrists. he doesn't like seeing you hurt, he absolutely hates seeing you in pain even if it's a mere scratch or.. in this situation, marks from a police officer's hand cuffs.
"come on now, the least you could do is thank me." he says with another cocky smile, you wish you could just slap it off his face but something tells you that he wouldn't exactly be ecstatic with you slapping his face in a police station.
"what do you want?" you snapped, not in any mood to be dealing with his teasing words accompanied by his usual shit-eating grin. he couldn't have bailed you out for fun, or for some sentimental reason. he wanted something, there was also a price when it came to him. "ah, how harsh! you're breaking my heart here.." the asshole has the gull to even jokingly suggest something like that.
"nothing much, really. just thought i'd help out an old friend." he hums, and you don't know if his words only spark a new flame of anger inside of you or if it wrenches your heart. the fact that he would consider you an "old friend", when you were his literal partner when you both were teenagers.
"an old friend? be a man you asshole, own up to who you broke up with." he doesn't answer, as expected. you're not sure whether you'd even prefer a response from him or just silence.
"let's talk, hm? maybe somewhere else?" he suggests after some time, calmly putting his hands into the pockets of his tan coat. you notice the slight change in expression in his face, you've spent years trying to practically decode this man and it only added to his amusement when you both were teenagers. now, you're thankful you took the time to observe him. you don't know exactly what he wants to talk about but, you know it's something serious.
"fine." you begrudgingly agree to him, sighing as you notice him leaving without another word and you know that's your queue to follow him. you don't know what you were expecting from the bandaged man, but he leads you to a little café. you raise an eyebrow at him when you two reach the front door, not exactly expecting him to take you to a cute little café that sells pastries and drinks. he meets your suspicions gaze with an innocent smile, urging you to step inside before him. what a gentleman. you step inside the humble establishment, greeted with a friendly smile by the cashier before settling into a seat near the back. he sits opposite you, it's almost as if he's treating this like you're his friend and you both are just going for lunch.
"so? you never answered my question." you reminded him, crossing your arms as you lean back on the plush backing of the seats. "what do you want, dazai." it hurts him the way you say his name, his surname. you never did that when you both were together, he liked being addressed as 'osamu' or 'samu' by you, it feels like salt being rubbed into the wound when you call him by his surname.
"oh? i'm deciding whether to get the latte or..." he trails off, noticing the most unamused expression ever on your face. he chuckles at the sight, shaking his head. "i'm only joking." he hums, stopping his little act at looking at the menu on the table. "i.. wanted to see how you were doing, is all." he shrugs, not really having a good explanation for bringing you to this cafe or hell, even bailing you out of jail. "i mean no harm by doing any of this, truly." he adds on before you get to question him, knowing what you were just about to ask him.
did he really mean that? that he wanted to just.. talk? you don't know what you should reply with, as a Port Mafia executive you should've killed him by now for being a traitor, but as his ex.. you're not sure what to feel. truthfully, sure you were pissed off at him for leaving without a word but you just couldn't find it in yourself to hate the man.
"fine, one hour."
"oh come on, two?" he pouts childishly, a sight you hadn't seen for awhile.
"one hour and a half. make it quick." you relent once again, it seemed like he still had the ability to make you soften up to him.
and so with that, you two proceed to awkwardly choose out your drinks for the time being while at the café and try your hands at small talk. it was.. incredibly awkward between the both of you, undoubtedly it was a little weird to even talk about work since well.. him being a Detective at the ADA and with you being a Port Mafia executive, what was there to talk about? it's weird to be so stiff with someone you used to be so comfortable with, you used to be able to talk about anything when you were younger but now it's just.. not the same.
while you two were talking, your phone screen lit up. some message from another Port Mafia member came up, said something about it being urgent. "i.. have to go, it's important." you looked up from your phone to face him, rolling your eyes at the tiny little pout that graced his lips. "a shame, maybe next time?" he suggests, hoping to have another time to talk with you again. you get the feel he misses you dearly.
"maybe." you shrug, standing up from your seat. you slid a napkin over to him, pointing to the corner of your mouth to signal to him that he had something on his. he mutters a small 'thank you', a tiny bit embarrassed that he might indeed have something on the corner of his mouth. as you leave, he uses his phone to check his appearance and.. there wasn't anything there? he thinks it might just be a silly little prank on your end to tease him after so long, he mindlessly flips the napkin in his hands as he puts his phone down.
in the corner of his eye, he noticed some.. writing on the napkin. your... number? you had changed your phone number some time after he left and now, you had given him your current one! it meant that you at least weren't that mad at him after so long, and that you at least wanted to stay in contact with him.
he decides to text you, just in case you decide to change your mind in the mean time of your separation.
your phone lights up as you made your way down the street.
[unknown number, 3:46 p.m ➜ you] "same place, friday?"
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creativeashproductions · 2 years ago
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A Finch’s Journey // Bradley Rooster Bradshaw
Summary: A gift from the kindest and warmest woman in a dark period of your life begins a decades-long journey to finding peace and love. 
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader (nicknamed Finch)
Warnings: Inaccurate naval knowledge, swearing, hospitals, treatments, sickness (cancer), angst, character death and FLUFF
Words: 3.2k
A/N: First finished fic in like a year. Thanks Julie.
Masterlist
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Your big eyes peered up momentarily at the woman resting in the chair beside you, one hand resting on the armrest and the other dutifully colouring a picture. Your hand meticulously fills in the lines of the dress with indigo colouring. The other hand, in a similar position as the woman who’d taken you under her wing.
“Ma’am?” You shyly spoke, avoiding the curious, gentle blue of the woman who reminded you of days on the beach in the warm sun.
“Sweet pea, you know you don’t have to call me that.” The blonde woman’s smile was gentle and reassuring. 
“Are…are you scared?” You whispered in the already quiet room. You froze as her soft hand lightly took the indigo crayon your small hand had clenched hard enough that it bent.
“Not for me.” She replied, carefully twisting to face you but keeping her arm immobile, “I’ve lived a good life. I loved and was loved deeply. I travelled to places I couldn’t have imagined as a kid. I fell in love and was blessed to raise a son from that love. I’m scared for how my son will be after.”
“’Cause your husband is waiting for you in the clouds, and your son will be alone?” You innocently asked, kicking your feet in the chair. 
She smiled, “because I asked a friend to do something that will hurt him. I’m scared he’ll let the grief and bitterness overtake his life. He’s always been a happy child. You remind me of him.”
You beamed, revealing the tooth you’d lost a few days ago, “Maybe he needs a hug. Hugs always fix things.”
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You nervously shifted on your beat-up shoes, looking up at the small cottage on a quiet street. The cottage holding the reason you had travelled to the West Coast from the opposite side. You recognized it from the polaroids the former owner had used to distract you from treatments.
“Can I help you?” A lady asked from the house next door. Her spirally dark hair was streaked with silver.
“Does Bradley Bradshaw live here?” You inquired, turning to face the curious neighbour halted in sweeping her porch.
“He does. He’s away for work. I can take your number and name for him if you’d like.” The lady answered leaning on the broom to focus solely on you. Her brown eyes are unrelenting in the stare.
“That’s okay. I’ll drop by in a few days.” You cast one more look at the house before turning on your heel. 
What’s another couple of days after decades of being two ships passing each other. Your flexible job allowed for extended days since you were a travelling nurse filling in at clinics needing help. 
“Well, I’ll let him know to expect someone. What’s your name?”
“Doesn’t matter.” You responded, turning to walk down the street toward the little bungalow you had rented for a few weeks. 
Your eyes scanned the gorgeous, well-kept houses on the trek back to the main street. It was stunning for a portion of a coastal city, even with the soundtrack of jets flying above the area. But, despite the reason behind stepping foot in the town, you had taken a position at a nearby clinic as a locum nurse.
For the next two or so weeks, you’d been spending your time waiting for Bradley’s return from work. Then you'd move on when you met the man and finished the contract. Maybe plan for the following position to be overseas. You’d love to see Ireland or go somewhere in Spain.
You spent the first two days in town frolicking in the water, building sandcastles with a cute little girl on the beach, and touring. On the third and fourth day, you decided to ask one of the locals for destinations and found yourself driving up the coast. Finally, on the fifth day, you dug out your scrubs and sneakers and made your way to the clinic.
“Morning, Tracy.” You smiled, putting a teal file folder by her arm at the front desk. The redhead beamed from her place in front of the computer.
“Morning, Finch,” Tracy responded, pushing a cup of coffee from the good cafe down the street. Tracy always scored discounts with the cute barista with a crush on her.
“How was the ER last night?” You questioned, flipping through one of the files of patients waiting to be seen. 
The urgent care clinic was a branch of the Naval Base Hospital as a resort for the family of the naval personnel. Typically you saw more sniffles and minor sicknesses in the children compared to the more concerning ones. Well, there was when a retired officer walked in with her finger hanging off by a thread with the question of, ‘hi, do you guys do stitches?’. 
All staff had to pull a shift over at the main hospital while under contract. Yours scheduled for Friday.
“Dead. Overheard a lot of the people stationed were out on missions.” Tracy kept her voice down while answering since she shouldn’t know, but a loose-lipped Lieutenant had been trying to woo her.
“Which means my Friday may be bad.” You hummed, glancing down at the old watch on your wrist. You grabbed one of the files and stepped out from behind the desk.
“Never know.” Tracy responded, turning her back to answer the phone, “Miramar Base Urgent Care.”
You quickly read the name, “Olive Bassett? If you could follow me.”
A young man grasped a small child's hand in a rush to follow you to the hallway. The little girl, five years old as her file read, had gorgeous honey-gold eyes framed by thick dark eyelashes. Golden-hued skin speckled with freckles across the bridge of her nose.
“Jackson Bassett. I’m Olive’s father.” 
Your eyes lifted from the file to meet the same honey-gold coloured eyes, “Mr. Bassett, I’m Nurse Y/N. I’m gonna grab a little information for the doctor.”
“Of course.” Jackson nodded, crouching to pull Olive into his arms before depositing her onto the exam table, “She said her throat was sore two days ago. This morning she spiked a fever, and I brought it down with medicine. She’s having trouble swallowing and can only take a few sips of water.”
Words scrawled over the file as he listed the symptoms and Olive nodded or shook her head at times. Jackson’s wife had been recalled to TOPGUN for a mission nine months back. After receiving word of the transfer, the Bassetts moved to the base a couple months ago. 
“Her fever is higher than I’d like. The doctor will go over my notes and then do a full exam.” Your eyes met the tear-filled ones of little Olive, “Wanna know a secret, Miss Bassett?”
Olive’s head hesitantly nodded.
“Dr. O’Collins has a secret stash of lollies for anyone that knows the secret….” You trailed off, watching a spark flare in the little girl’s eyes again, “Tell him you saw the fairies making fairy dust.”
Olive lit up in excitement.
“She should be fine. Pick up some popsicles for the sore throat, but the Doc will answer any more questions.” You told Jackson, sliding on the stool to push away to the desk in the corner. Your hand found the stickers you had hidden in every room in the building.
You were quick to roll back to Oliver to hand a stick of her choice before waving to the father and daughter.
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At one point in your life, you had done your absolute best to avoid all medical facilities or anything that reminded you of when you were sick. You’d spent a lot of your childhood in sterile rooms and understood that your mother’s job in the Navy helped pay for the treatments and medicines. 
You’d relapsed around the same time the lady who kept you company had worsened. You and she never shared the type of cancer you had been diagnosed with. She’d been the adult during a time when your mother had been deployed with the Navy. You owed a lot to her for doing her best to comfort and distract you, all the while suffering herself.
At ten years old, you found yourself in the same room receiving treatment after relapsing a year after entering remission. Not much had changed in the decor or the fact that the woman who had coloured pictures with you sat there too.
What had changed was in the time you’d been diagnosed, battled, found victory, and got sick again you weren’t the same child. You weren’t as innocent. You weren’t as happy. You understood more than what a child should.
“Finch, how’s school going?” She spoke, bringing your attention from the ceiling. You barely rolled your head to face her.
Her cheeks were gaunt, her skin pale, and a scarf kept her head warm in the cold temperature of the room. She knew, hell, you knew that her prognosis was poor. And you both avoided speaking about it. Yet, she hadn’t lost the warmth or happiness in the time you’d known her.
“Doctors won’t let me go to school. I get my assignments mailed on a specialized outline.” Your lips turned down, “I dunno why I have to do math when I’m gonna die.”
Your friend’s eyes saddened, “No, you won’t. You’re so strong Little Goldfinch.”
Goldfinch. A nickname she coined for you when she saw how social you were during your first treatment with the nurses. She could see you becoming a teacher with how well you interacted and treated people kindly.
“Then why are you gonna die?” You demanded, shifting to stare her down, “You’re the strongest person I know!”
Her eyes crinkled in the corners, “Sometimes strengths are different. But, Finch, I’ve made peace with what will happen.”
Her eyes shifted to where the chemo was infusing into your arm through the IV and then to her bare one. Your heart broke because you knew that her treatment no longer worked, and she was spending her time left to be with you.
“But-“
Her hand reached out, “I knew immediately you were gonna be so important to me. I need you to hold on to this for me.”
Her hands reached behind her to the clasp on the necklace that never left her neck. Her husband had given it to her when their son was born. Their son was given a similar pendant with a sun instead while her husband found a ring with stars he slung on the chain of his dog tags.
“You never-“
“I’m sure one day you’ll know what to do with it.” 
Her hands carefully avoided wires in her mission to clasp the necklace around your neck instead. Your smaller hand reaching up to caress the moonstone with the gold diamond-encrusted crescent moon. It was beautiful.
Carole Bradshaw died a month later. A year later, you’d been declared in remission and sitting in a classroom. The necklace still proudly resting on your chest.
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Twenty years later, you had dreamt of the ocean, brown eyes and the same necklace Carole had gifted you. You immediately cut your trip to Australia off and bought the first ticket to Virginia. You knew that this was what Carole meant when she gave the necklace to you.
So you’d begun a months-long search to track down Carole’s son Bradley. It had taken visiting the hospital where you and Carole got treatment. And then pleading with your mother to call on an old friend from the Academy. With a destination in hand, you had found a locum nurse position in San Diego.
Now you were standing on the porch of the home of who you really hoped was Carole’s son. But, unlike a week ago, the driveway wasn’t empty. Instead, a light blue Bronco was parked beside the freshly mowed grass.
Your fist raised to knock once, twice and a third time on the front door. Finally, the sound of footsteps sounded inside. The door opened, and your breath was taken away.
“Can I help you?” The person asked, peering at you with tired eyes.
“Are you Bradley Bradshaw?” You asked pushing your hands in the back pockets of your cotton shorts. A thin cardigan over a t-shirt to combat the cool breeze.
 “I am,” Bradley confirmed, leaning on the doorjamb of his home. His brown eyes scanned you from the brown sandals to your e/c eyes. He wondered if you would be interested in grabbing a drink or walking on the beach.
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You offered, reaching out to shake his hand in greeting, “I have something that belongs to you. Or well to your mother.”
Rooster stood straight up upon hearing that. His light-hearted thoughts and attraction faded when you mentioned his mother. A stranger.
“H-how would you know my mother? She died when I was nineteen.” Rooster breathed, dropping his crossed arms.
“I know.” You softly breathed, stepping through the open door when he stepped to the side.
The foyer opened in the living room with soft-coloured walls and a frame holding a folded flag on the mantle. White accents and pictures of family littered the walls. You could see the pencil lines of a child being measured on the kitchen door frame.
“How?” Rooster demanded, furrowing his brows.
“Because she was my friend.” You turned to face the confused aviator, “On my eighth birthday my life changed forever. I had been sick for a while. Lethargic, I would become breathless and other stuff. The doctor called during my birthday party. Test results came back, and by the next day, I was sitting in a paediatric oncologist's office.”
Rooster’s breath called in his throat, “Wait are you, Finch?”
Your eyebrows raised, “Carole coined that. I spent my time in the hospital fluttering around to rooms to make friends. It started as Goldfinch and shortened.”
“She spoke about you. Mom was lonely for a lot of my childhood. Then, when she got sick, she lost her spark.” Rooster recalled the scary time learning his mom was really sick, “She got it back when she met a friend. She called you her little Goldfinch.”
“She did everything she could to keep me company. I didn’t have any family other than my parents, who were both on active duty. Deployed a lot. So Carole stepped in as a trusted adult when they weren’t there.” Your smile was wistful, remembering the warm smile and laugh that embodied glee, “Even when she stopped treatment, she would sit with me during mine. She talked about her pride and joy and the adventures she had.”
“She could be anyone’s friend.” Rooster grinned, leaning back on the back of the couch. His ankles crossed, looking at you.
“She could. In the end, she gave me this.” Your deft fingers tugged the moonstone and diamond pendant from under your shirt.
Rooster stood straight up, staring at the necklace lying on your fingertips. For as long as he could remember, Carole Bradshaw never took two pieces of jewellery off. Her wedding ring and the necklace you were wearing.
He didn’t notice he had stepped closer until his calloused fingers gently touched the moonstone.
 “I-I thought this was lost.” He gasped carefully, eyeing the diamonds in the crescent moon. It was as perfect as the last time he saw it was when his mom was alive, “She would brush it off.”
Your lips quirked, “She was pretty mysterious about why she gave it to me. Said ‘I’m sure one day you’ll know what to do with it’ and was tight-lipped about why.”
Rooster’s brown eyes crinkled with mirth, “She was a sucker for movies and books like that.”
Your eyes moved from the pendant to meet the man’s brown pair. It was silent for a moment.
“She loved you. So very much, Bradley. She lit up when she talked about you. She was only scared about how you’d be after she passed. She was worried the grief and bitterness would swallow you.”
He was confused, “What?”
“Carole didn’t tell me much since I was a child, but she mentioned asking a friend to do something that would hurt you. She regretted it, but it was too late to do anything. She only hoped you could forgive her.”
His eyebrows raised as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. It hadn’t been Maverick’s idea to pull his papers. His mom had. 
“Thank you.” Why Rooster was thanking you, he didn’t know. Maybe for the peace, he felt.
“This belongs with you.” You whispered, raising your hands to unclasp the necklace to drop it into his hand, “I think she always meant for me to give it to you.”
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In the time since you’d left California, you’d changed your hair, Rooster discovered the moment he’d seen you. It looked good. His hand held his bag tightly as he walked closer to your form.
“Finch!” Rooster called, bringing your attention to the person in front of you.
His brown eyes drank in the lavender-coloured scrub pants paired with the scrub top of cartoon birds. Next, his eyes found the moonstone necklace that had brought you together resting on your chest as it had since he’d returned it eight months ago. Then, his brown eyes finally flicked down to the newest addition he’d given you.
“Roo!” You beamed, running full speed into his arms. 
Rooster shifted to press a lingering kiss to your neck before leaning back to drink you in. His one hand caresses your soft cheek.
“I thought you were flying in on Monday?” You asked, leaning back to stare at him with glittering eyes. The man in question beamed back.
“I scored a few extra days off. Mav’s extra wedding gift.”
His eyes shifted to the band he’d slipped onto your finger a few months back. It matched the one on his hand. 
“Perfect! Roisin gave me a list of places we should check out. She’s got the connections to places only the locals know about!” Your hand grasped his as he let you tug him down from the clinic to the little apartment you had rented for a short time.
Rooster had gotten papers of a deployment a month before your postponed honeymoon would begin. He’d persuaded you to find a locum position for the month-long deployment, and he’d fly to Ireland to meet you.
“Ireland, and then we’re going to Spain?” 
“I have to show you the places I saw. You’ll love it. And then we’ll return to San Diego.” Your words were coy at the end. His eyes moved away from the people moving down the sidewalk to you.
“We’ll? I thought you were heading down to Scotland before coming home?” Rooster asked, pulling you to a stop.
You bit your lip, keeping quiet.
“Finch?” Rooster slowly spoke, reaching to grab your other hand in his clasp.
“I applied for a position at the clinic I was a locum at when I was searching for you. I just need to sign the contracts, and I’ll have a permanent position.”
Rooster flew his head back gleefully in such a way that reminded you so much of the woman who’d held your hand in a sterile room decades ago.
Carole Bradshaw knew you were gonna be important to her. She just didn’t know you’d be more important to Bradley too.
411 notes · View notes