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just-jordie-things · 6 months

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kiss cam surprise - gojo satoru

word count: 2.8k warnings: none! :) summary: when (y/n) kisses shoko during a kiss cam at a baseball game, satoru gets a little ~jealous~ this is half fluff half crack tbh lol a/n: ok i don't take fic requests but someone dropped this in my ask box awhile ago and it resurfaced in my mind so... ur a lucky duck. also! if u like kiss cam fics y'all should check out kiss cam! by @naosaki <3 one of my fav megumi fics <3 ___

For being at an event that they couldn’t care less about, Shoko and (y/n) had been on their best behavior for the entirety of the baseball game. Satoru and Suguru had been so excited to gift the tickets to the girls so they could join them in a fun outing, that they’d tried their best to accept the offer graciously.

Even though neither of them had any interest in going. It was obvious when the tickets were presented to them, from the awkward smiles they’d worn to the way their eyes shifted towards one another as if to make sure the other was thinking the same thing- why wouldn’t they just go on their own?

Shoko and (y/n) would’ve happily spent the day doing their own thing had Satoru and Suguru gone to the game just the two of them. Maybe some light shopping, or maybe they’d hole up in one of their rooms and eat junk and watch romcoms all day. Either way… any activity would have been more entertaining to them than this.

They barely even knew the rules of the game, only cheering when the guys did, and sharing knowing looks when they tried not to laugh at just how uninterested they were.

Still, they did their best to participate. Both glad in the same colors of the cheap merch Satoru and Suguru had treated them to. (y/n) was in a jersey too big for her that hung off her body awkwardly, and Shoko wore a hat with a bill that wouldn’t stop dipping over her eyes, but they didn’t complain. They were very good sports for their friends, only sneaking off for a smoke break one time. They even made a few trips for snacks and drinks so that Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t miss any of the games. Sure, maybe they were trying to stretch their legs and ease the ache in their butts from the uncomfortable plastic seats, but they had the right intentions!

“This is fun, right?”

When (y/n) turned to him, Satoru was beaming from ear to ear. His sunglasses were slipping down his nose due to the way his ball cap bumped into them, and his bright eyes seemed to hold even more light from his obvious joy.

She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to. It was too cute to see him this excited just from sharing the experience with his friends. He’d had his arm draped over the back of her seat for the majority of the game, and whenever his team got the upper hand, he’d eagerly tap or shake at her shoulder to involve her in the hype. (y/n) was grateful for the que to pay closer attention to what was happening, but she did fluster and blush every time he’d touch her.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who would knowingly knock her elbow from her other side, a small smirk on her face when (y/n) would peek at her from the corner of her eye. She tried to ignore the silent teasing, but after a while it got hard with how much it was happening.

With a smile and a nod of her head, Satoru’s expression lit up even more. “Yeah, I’m actually having a really great time,” She said. It didn’t matter that she was more interested in all the attention he’d been giving her than the great seats they had for the game. He didn’t need to know that part. “We should do this more often” She adds before thinking.

Once again, Shoko’s elbow was bumping into hers, and this time a less-than-discreet snort could be heard. (y/n) sent her elbow back into hers in retaliation, silently scolding her for eavesdropping.

“Yeah?” Satoru fixes his cap so that he can push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Tickets weren’t that expensive, we could go to more games this season, if you want?” He suggests.

Bullshit, she thinks with a smile telling him that’s exactly what she was thinking. Nothing was expensive to the Gojo Satoru.

“Yeah, maybe” She says without much commitment.

Going to baseball games just the two of them? The idea had her heart soaring. Having to sit through a game that could take more than three hours was less than ideal.

Soon enough a break in the game came, the announcers hyping up the crowd with some silly chants and trivia on the big screen. (y/n) found herself slumping down into her seat, aimlessly tapping around on her phone to pass the time. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice the change in game on the big screen, that is until there was a hand smacking at her shoulder again.

Looking up, she’d almost expected to see the game in motion again. Satoru had only been tapping at her like that when an exciting play was in action. However this time, he’s pointing up at the screen.

She gapes when she sees that she’s displayed on the screen. The camera has a wide angle that includes Shoko and Satoru on either side of her, the words Kiss Cam spelled out in pink cursive above them. It’s complete with lipstick stains and sparkles for dramatic touch.

“Oh my god” She mumbles, hoping that her blush is undetectable by the camera, seeing as her face felt scorching hot from embarrassment.

The longer the camera is focused on her, the rowdier the crowd around her becomes. Eagerly chanting ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ like a bunch of teenagers at their first house party.

Satoru is grinning so hard his face hurts. This was like a dream come true. The easiest excuse in all of history to get a kiss from the girl he’s had a crush on since he was fifteen was just presented to him on a silver platter- and the crowd’s cheering only spurred him on further.

Even Suguru is giving him a smirk and a nod of approval. He’d heard more earfuls than most about the ins and outs of Satoru’s feelings for (y/n). Although on occasion, Shoko or Nanami were on the receiving end of his lovesick rambling.

His heart is about to burst out of his chest when he turns to (y/n). His smile is starting to hurt and for a second he realizes he’s going to have to relax to actually kiss her.

“Are you okay with-?”

The question barely comes out before he’s cut short.

(y/n) had already turned away from him, swiveled in her seat to face Shoko. It’s like he’s watching it happen in slow motion.

They both giggle at their idea, and (y/n) takes off Shoko’s hat while she’s quickly tucking her hair behind her ears to clear her face. And then time goes back to normal and all too quickly, Satoru watches as they lean towards each other to share a kiss.

It’s just a peck, so swift and chaste it’s over as soon as it happens. The crowd hollers and then are just as quickly getting excited over the next unsuspecting pair on camera.

(y/n) and Shoko laugh a bit more before sitting back in their seats, going back to their phones and striking up conversation about some anime they’d been interested in. Both, or at least (y/n), completely oblivious to the offended gape on Satoru’s face.

That was totally his kiss, after all! It was his perfect moment to finally take things to the next level with his long time friend that he’d harbored a crush on.

To make matters worse, Shoko wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be, sending a smirk his way when (y/n) was too focused on her phone. He scowled back at her. She knew about his crush! She knew he was going to go for that kiss!

With a huff, he stood up from his seat and made his way out of the stands. He needed a bottle of water, or a snack, or just some damn space away from his so-called friend that was teasing him for snatching his kiss.

Satoru leaving so suddenly finally perked (y/n’s) attention. He was gone too fast for her to call after him, but she worriedly watched him scale the steps with ease as he headed towards the hall of vendors. She locked eyes with Satoru, raising a brow in silent question.

“He’s just being pouty,” Suguru replied casually, shrugging his shoulders before turning back towards the field. “You wanna go after him? Be my guest”

(y/n) sighed, turning the other direction towards Shoko.

“What’s he so pressed about?” She mutters. “What even happened?”

Shoko rolls her eyes, a lazy grin stretching on her lips.

“I dunno,” She says in a teasingly melodic tone of voice, suggesting she knew exactly what set their friend off. “Maybe pluck up some courage and go ask him?”

With another sigh of defeat, (y/n) slumped back into her seat, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth as she mulled over the idea. A nervous flutter settled in her chest, a persistent buzz of confusion and anxiety distracting her even more so from the game starting up again.

When she suddenly shot out of her seat, muttering some excuse about needing to stretch her legs before she raced up the stairs in the direction she’d seen Satoru head off towards.

Two sets of eyes watched her as she hurried off. Suguru and Shoko locked eyes once she was out of sight, both of them snickering between themselves. It didn’t exactly take an active imagination to know exactly what was coming next.

To her surprise, (y/n) found Satoru as soon as she left the stands. Moping around the upper part of the arena with a half-empty bag of cotton candy. She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, effectively getting herself caught by him.

“Why’re you up here eating your feelings?” (y/n) speaks first, eyes narrowed inquisitively. Satoru scoffs as she approaches him, snatching a piece of the pink sweet right out of his hands.

“I’m not eating my feelings” He replies unconvincingly, digging the hole deeper as he shoves a rather large piece of cotton candy into his mouth.

(y/n) rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face is impossible to hide.

“Sure,” She remarks. “You’re totally not pouting right now. C’mon just fess up. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not pouting. My friend betrayed me, I think I’m right in being upset about that?” It’s a rhetorical question, followed by another shove of cotton candy into his mouth.

(y/n) frowns.

“Betrayed you?” She repeats. “Did I miss something? Who betrayed you?”

Satoru groaned, tossing the remainder of his cotton candy into the trash dramatically. (y/n) had to resist the urge to laugh, not understanding where this whole little tantrum came from.

“Shoko! Obviously! I mean she knew that that kiss was-!”

He stops mid sentence, realizing where this outburst was going to lead him if he didn’t relax and go back to his usual suave demeanor. (y/n) shook her head in confusion, her brows pinching together.

“Was what?” She asked, a breathless laugh escaping her. “Meaningless? A joke between friends?” She suggested. “You’re mad about a kiss?”

“Of course I’m mad-! Well, I- I guess not mad, I’m not mad at her,” He stammered over his words, not knowing how exactly to explain the complicated feelings.

(y/n) tried to be patient while he stammered and struggled to make himself clear. Mostly because she was partially amused by the whole thing. Satoru prided himself in being what he called a smooth-talker, and while normally she’d laugh at him for that, it was a shock to see him behave the total opposite right in front of her.

“But that wasn’t exactly fair, I mean, she was just trying to rile me up. And- like- yeah, that’s what we usually do, we pick on each other but that just- that just wasn’t fair! That was my kiss and she knew it! And she just-”

“What do you mean ‘your kiss’?”

Finally Satoru had been rendered speechless, his mouth still hanging open mid rant, jaw slacking a bit as he realized he’d gotten carried away. (y/n’s) expression almost mirrors his, her eyes wide and lips parted, even as she holds her breath and waits for him to clarify.

But he’s completely frozen in front of her.

“Satoru,” She waves her hand in front of his face, trying to bring him back to reality. “What did you mean ‘your kiss’?” She repeats, shaking her head at him.

“I- I just… I meant that-”

Words are spilling out of his mouth without direction, without knowing what the hell the right thing to say was. He’d known (y/n) for two years now, and in all of that time he’d been pretty proud of the persona he’d built up to be sure that he was always the cool one, the guy she could rely on to be smooth and popular. He felt pathetic now, letting his own secrets slip and stuttering over himself like an idiot.

The corners of (y/n’s) lips twitched into a smile the longer he flustered over who-knows-what. It catches his attention when she unintentionally lets out a little laugh.

“Sorry,” She apologizes right away. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I just… are you trying to say that you wanted me to kiss you? For the cam game?”

She tries not to sound so hopeful that it comes across desperate, but the mere idea that Satoru had wanted a kiss from her had her chest thrumming with butterflies.

Satoru’s throat feels dry, and suddenly her gaze feels like a spotlight. The intensity has the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He pulls the hat off his head to run a hand through his hair to relieve the heat.

“Well… yeah,” He admits, sounding more bashful than she ever would have thought he was capable of. Her small smile turned a little brighter, and he tried to get his voice back. “Not that I need a silly game to kiss you, obviously-”

“Obviously” She repeats the word fondly, giving him a small nod.

“But- s-still, the kiss cam, would’ve been… fun” He admits sheepishly. She giggles, nodding her head again.

“Well, it was fun, for the record,” She teases, earning a roll of his eyes from behind his shades. She steps closer to him then, a tilt in her head as she takes in the obvious nerves written on his face. “But if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked”

“I was going to,” He argued, his hands moving about erratically. “It's not my fault Shoko beat me to it!”

She giggled at his drama, reaching out and grabbing his hands as they flew around, still laughing as he froze up again from the sudden touch.

“You know, it didn’t exactly mean anything when Shoko did it,” She suggested. “I know there’s not any cameras… but…”

Satoru raised a brow.

“(y/l/n) (y/n),” He gasped dramatically, “Are you asking me to kiss you?”

Her cheeks tint pink as she bites back her smile, giving him a small nod of her head. He smiles back at her, pulling his hands out of hers and dropping his hat so he could lay them across her jaw, tilting her head upwards so he didn’t have to lean down as far to reach her.

She doesn’t wait a second longer for him, closing her eyes and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could press her lips against his. Satoru’s quick to reciprocate, his fingers flexing against her skin, holding on as tight as he can without hurting her as he deepens the kiss right away. She has to grab him by the shoulders to keep herself balanced.

His lips are soft, and taste sugary like the cotton candy he’d been eating. She’d always thought he’d taste a little bit like sugar, what with how much of it he consumes. It makes her smile to know first hand.

When they break the kiss, he steals one more quick peck from her, grinning with excitement before he pulls away so he can pick up his forgotten hat from the ground.

“Feel better now?” She teases as he slings his arm around her shoulder to head back towards their seats.

“Mhm,” He hums, pulling his cap over her head and smiling as it slips down her forehead. He pokes it upwards with his index finger, then pokes the tip of her nose. “But next game I bring you to, I get the kiss cam kiss, alright?”

There’s a gleam in her eye and a blush on her face as she leans into him, matching his steps as they head down the stairs to their seats. As shameless as ever, she can’t help but tease him.

“Then sit on my left next time” ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru brainrpt #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru friends to lovers

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ilys00ga · 14 days

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𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲.

➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.

➞ word count: 1k

➞ synopsis: "yoongi and reader making a meal together for yoongi's parents" with a little bit of a domestic twist.

➞ genre: established relationship, husband!yoongi, dad!yoongi, just fluffy fluff fluff, they cook together, dad!yoongi, nothing goes wrong, dad!yoongi, just pure happiness, they also call it tooth-rotting fluff lol, did I mention: DAD!YOONGI ???, they have a babygirl uwu <33

➞ A/N: first off, thank u anon for sending me this super cute prompt, I loved it and had sm fun writing it!! second, EID MUBARAK TO MY FELLOW MUSLIMS OUT THEREEE <3 this is my lil gift for yall on this eid. it wasn't supposed to be this long tbh, and I haven't written anything for over a month, so, sorry if this is kind of messy and all over the place??? im trying to get my sht together again. but I really liked the prompt and!!! had to write it!!!! kkk enjoy bbys <3

ps. any form of feedback is reallyyyy appreciated. I live for compliments :) !

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

It was one warm spring morning.

Yoongi was back from a long series of concerts just a couple of days ago. Grateful to be finally home with the two people that mean the absolute world to him. Your cat was purring on his chest as the two of you laid on the bed, enjoying the quiet of Saturday that had just begun, when his mother called to announce that, later that evening, she and his father would be coming over.

One thing led to another, and there you stood with your husband in the kitchen. One was chopping ingredients up by the stove, the other handling a mixer. Your two years old baby girl, Nara, was sitting in her high chair somewhere away from the oven and any other harmful thing. What used to be your favorite playlists playing ever so softly in the background as you fixed yourselves your favorite meals, together, was replaced with the mindless blabbering of your sweet baby girl instead, playing with the wooden spoon you had given her to play with some minutes before.

“Is this good?” Yoongi dipped the tip of his finger into the mixture he’s been working on, and carefully brought it up to your lips. You hummed in satisfaction as soon as the flavors hit your taste buds, a little bit taken aback at how he nailed your mother’s secret recipe only in the first try, “Great. You’re getting so good at this, Yoonie. I think you should take over kitchen duties very soon.”

He snorted, “If that means I’ll never have to do the laundry ever again, then sure.”

Feigning annoyance, you hissed at him, “You’re so lazy.”

“No one likes doing laundry, honey. Not even you.”

"You're so annoying."

Your daily bickering banters were disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing from the other room. He left to take the call, leaving you with your noisy little baby. The chef hat she had on her head–Yoongi's idea, by the way, along with the tiny apron she wore as well–was almost too big on her. It made her look a thousand times more adorable that you immediately started grinning and cooing when she looked up at you.

"And what about you chef? Are you having fun?"

She balled her fists up and raised them in the air, wiggling in her seat to let you know that she wanted to be picked up. Being the ever so whipped mom that you were, you scooped her up in your arms right away, and peppered kisses all over her chubby face. Her giggles seeped through your skin and locked into your bones, aching with a sickeningly utmost adoration.

“Mom said they’re almost here.” Said Yoongi upon entering the kitchen, putting his phone atop the table and smiling as soon as his eyes fell on the two of you—his girls.

“Are you being a good chef assistant, baby?” He cooed, kissing her cheek, then leaning in to leave a peck on your lips.

“She’s been blabbering her life off the whole time you were gone." you hummed.

“Mom is going to have a good time conversing with her this evening.”

“We’re almost done cooking now.” You reminded him, “Honey, check on the oven please.”

“Right.”

A wave of heat hit his face as soon as he opened the oven, but he smiled once he checked on the muffins, “they are done.”

When he took the tray out and swiftly put it on the counter, Nara erupted in a fit of loud blabber, flailing the arm that clutched on the wooden spoon in the air and almost smacking your face in the process.

It had your husband giggling, of course. He couldn’t help but join in and engage with her blather, how could he not when he got such an adorable chatterbox for a child? “Huh, Nini? The muffins are done! Yeah!”

He took her into his arms, allowing you to go check on the stewpot that was still boiling on the stove, before bringing her to have a look at the tray of the mouth watering muffins, and cheered, “look!”

Your heart, yet again, swooned, almost oozing out of your ribs with how tight your chest grew to be at the sound of your baby’s joyful squeals. She was all excited as her daddy showed her around the process of cooking the dinner for her grandparents.

Nara was having the time of her life. For some reason, she's always loved being in the kitchen. Yoongi once made a comment about her becoming a successful chef, which then turned into a long, heartwarming talk about your daughter and her future. The gentle smile Yoongi had on his face throughout that was one to die for, especially when he sulked about not wanting your babygirl to grow up. His pout was so intense, you ended up engulfing him in a bone crushing hug for almost half an hour.

It was moments like this one that you wished were pictures so you could cut them up and hide them. Somewhere deep inside your heart. Forever. That's how you often found yourself observing and admiring every single interaction your husband made with your baby, and that’s how you ended up listening attentively as he continued to talk so passionately and earnestly with her, while simultaneously attempting to work with his free arm to the best of his abilities.

She, at one point, got so ecstatic that she accidentally thrusted her arm forward and hit him in the face with that spoon. But he only turned to look at you with an affectionate smile.

Struggling through a fit of giggles, you slipped the wooden object from her grasp and gave her a big kiss; making sure to squish her doughy cheeks—a trait that she definitely got from her father, “No more hitting mama and papa for you!”

The little girl’s squeaks only got louder as she reached out with her arms towards you, addressing you with more words of her very own and special language.

“Family hug?” you asked, glancing at a grinning Yoongi.

“Family hug!” He wrapped his free arm around you, bringing your body closer so that Nara could get a hold of you as well, then added, “but let’s make it a short one or else my parents are going to come to a burnt dinner.”

#yoongi #bts #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #bts yoongi #bts scenarios #yoongi gif #min yoongi #yoongi icons #suga fluff #suga fic #bts suga #suga #bts fic #bts gifs #bts army

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freedomfireflies · 9 months

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Five to Go Live*

Summary: The fifth and final part to One for the Money*

Mr. Styles, your boss (and the CEO of the company you work for), offers to help you expand your OnlyFans business.

But maybe you want more.

And maybe he does, too.

Word Count: 11.5k (I have no idea what happened tbh)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Good morning, Mr. Styles.”

The tense frame of the man pacing in front of the window stills when he hears your greeting.

You’re five minutes early, coffee in hand, ready to begin your workday.

However, he doesn’t turn around as you enter his office. But the slight glimpse of his profile lets you know he’s acutely aware of your presence.

He stays by his desk, offering nothing more than his silence as you set down his drink and move for the couch.

“Good morning,” is his brisk greeting. It’s not any warmer or colder than usual. It’s just him. “Do you have the reports I asked for?”

“Right here.” You drop them onto the coffee table. “Ready for your meeting this afternoon.”

“Good.” He stares out at the city, unwilling to look you in the eye. “And you’ve confirmed with Nadia?”

“Yes. She’s calling for a driver as we speak.”

He nods once, fingers flexing beside his thighs before he finally ventures a glance over his shoulder. “And I suppose you’d like to talk to me about the other day.”

You flip open the laptop and pull up your email, eyebrow raised. “The other day?”

He turns to you, and you feel his heated stare. “I believe I owe you an explanation.”

“Not really,” you respond, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “You agreed to help me with the video, and you did. I didn’t expect you to stay, Sir.”

Your peripheral catches his slight frown. “You didn’t?”

“No.” You open his schedule and begin jotting down a few notes from Nadia’s email. “You’re not exactly the cuddling type. Probably would have been weirder if you had stayed.”

His hands disappear into his pockets as he regards you. “I never meant to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” Another shrug. “I knew what I agreed to, and now we’re done. No harm, no foul.”

The frown deepens. “Still, I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that—”

“Mr. Styles,” you interrupt, turning to face him, “I wasn’t under the illusion that things would change just because we fucked. I didn’t need aftercare, I didn’t need your words of affirmation, and I didn’t need you to stay.”

Something unrecognizable passes over his features.

You lean forward. “We’re good, Sir.”

The office goes quiet. You know him well enough by now to know what it looks like when he’s biting back a response.

And you imagine there are quite a few things he’d like to berate you for, but instead, he merely clamps his jaw shut and nods.

“All right.” He returns to his desk and takes a seat. “Let’s begin.”

The rest of the workweek carries on like usual. Things return to normal. Or at least to the way they were before he admitted to knowing about your outside activities.

And you find that you’re grateful for that. It’s much easier to only imagine him as your boss instead of your…business partner.

What happened that afternoon in the hotel room was great. Fantastic, even. But it was only ever an act of generosity. A favor, more like. He helped you exactly the way he said he would and now it’s over.

You won’t ever have to think about him like that again.

So…you don’t.

At least, you try not to. But it proves quite difficult.

After deciding against posting the whole video for your channel, and instead only uploading the part where he comes on your tits, it becomes harder to ignore what you two have done.

After all, the response is overwhelming. Positive, excited, and extremely lucrative. Most of the requests are for more of the mysterious man they’ve come to know, and you try not to feel disappointed when you realize there won’t be any more guest appearances.

You wonder if he’s watched it. Wonder if he remembers that day the way you do.

Sometimes you slip up, and you watch the beginning just to hear him talk to you. You watch the way you undress him. Watch the way he kisses you. Watch the way he drives himself inside of you and begs you to come for him.

But then it hits you. Like a fucking freight train. It won’t ever happen again, and lingering on the one time it did isn’t healthy.

So, you turn it off, and attempt to resume life as normal.

You reach out to Max to apologize yet again for what happened, and he’s incredibly understanding. He asks if you’d like to meet for drinks and go over another scene for the future.

And you agree because you will do anything to put Mr. Styles in your rearview mirror.

You don’t mention the meeting to your boss. You figure it won’t do any good, and even if he disapproved, it’s not like he would tell you.

This is your game now. Not his.

So, with a new lease on life, you head for the bar to meet with Max, eager to find out what he has in store.

He’s happy to see you. Pulling out your chair and refusing any attempts at apologies that you offer.

Which you’re more than appreciative of, although you can’t help feeling a bit guilty that he didn’t get the content he’d been wanting.

“Seriously, don’t even worry about it,” he repeats for the third time since you sat down. “Honestly. I get it, once other people get involved, it gets complicated.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, sheepishly glancing down at your lap. “But still. He shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have let him run you out like that.”

He smiles. “It’s fine. Listen, your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. Really. And we can proceed however you feel is best—”

“Oh, no, he’s…he’s not my boyfriend,” you interject, head shaking quickly. “No, he was just…nobody. He’s nobody. Anymore.”

Max studies you for a moment, seemingly curious at your insistence. “Oh? Does…he know that?”

You swallow thickly and take hold of your glass. “Yeah. He does.”

A beat before he nods.

“All right.” Max takes a swig himself. “As long as you’re sure this is something you want.”

You nod but can’t help finding yourself hesitating. “Yeah, it’s…yeah. Of course.”

His expression softens. “Boyfriend or not, he still has a hold over you, doesn’t he?”

And you grimace because you hate the way it sounds. Hate how obvious it must be to everyone else. Hate that it’s even a thing at all.

“No, he just…he’s infuriating,” you argue. “I mean, you were there. You saw what he’s like.”

“I was and I did,” he agrees with a smirk. “Infuriating is the nicer way to put it.”

“He’s a dick,” you correct, making you both smile. “But I trusted him. And I trusted his judgment. And him being so…blunt is sometimes a good thing. Because there’s no room for overthinking or questioning what he really wants. He tells you. Exactly how he feels, exactly how he feels it.”

Max nods thoughtfully, urging you to continue.

“And yet there are so many things I feel like he’s keeping from me,” you murmur. “And maybe he doesn’t owe me answers. Maybe it doesn’t even matter, but I just…there was this moment when we were on the same page. When it felt so seamless, and easy, and good. And now…”

Max sighs. “Now he’s nobody.”

You both grow quiet as you let this settle.

“Yeah,” you whisper, taking a sip of your drink. “He’s nobody. And it’s nothing. And it’s over anyway, so…I’m free to do whatever I’d like.”

He laughs. “That’s a great attitude.”

“Why thank you very much.”

“Of course.” He rubs his hands together. “Well, I guess in that case…maybe we should go over—”

“Peach Valentine.”

And almost as if you spoke him into existence, that familiar voice finds you. Cutting right through your conversation as chills fly up the back of your neck.

You almost don’t want to look. Want to pretend that this is merely a subconscious projection of the very last man you want to see.

But you can feel his presence behind you. Can smell his cologne and can see the surprised look on Max’s face.

Of course he’s here.

Slowly, you turn around, letting your eyes find the tall figure looming only a foot or two away.

He’s wearing an expression you know all too well. The one that tells you exactly what he’s thinking without him having to say a single word.

And your stomach sinks.

“Sir,” you whisper, voice oddly timid before you clear your throat and straighten up. “Hello.”

For a moment, he’s quiet. Offering nothing more than a blank stare. Then, he looks at Max. He looks at you. And nobody speaks.

Finally, his jaw sets, and his hands bury themselves deep within his expensive pockets. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m…I’m meeting with Max,” you reply, shooting a smile toward your new friend.

Mr. Styles frowns. “You didn’t tell me you were meeting him.”

“I didn’t think I had to,” you retort, lowering your voice as you send him a pointed look. “Seeing as we’re not partners anymore.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re still my assistant. And your well-being is my concern.”

“Oh? I thought what I did with my personal life didn’t concern you.”

“It does when it has to do with him.”

Your glare begins to mirror his. “Well, since I am in need of a new business partner, I figured Max would be the perfect one to ask.”

Mr. Styles rolls his shoulders back, regarding you carefully. “And since when are you in need of a new business partner?”

“Since my old one walked out on me.”

This does it. His features twist into an unforgiving and rather harsh look of disdain as he steps closer and drops his tone. “I told you, I needed to explain—”

“No, you don’t need to explain,” you correct. “I’m not upset. I’m not bitter. I’m not angry. But that doesn’t change the fact that our agreement is over.”

His teeth grit. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I was ending our deal—”

“It does in my book. I don’t have time to wait for you, Sir.” You sit up, leveling the playing field. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

His fingers suddenly wrap around your upper arm, tugging on you until your feet hit the floor, forcing you to stand. “I need to talk to you.”

A bit surprised, you blink rapidly and attempt to pull yourself free. “Mr. Styles—”

“Now, Peach.”

You want to argue. Want to fight him on this. Want to stay strong, stay with Max. Send the mean man away.

But you know him, no matter how belligerent he’s being. And there’s something in those eyes that you’ve found yourself lost in that persuades you to nod and follow him to the hallway.

The moment you’re alone and the loud music has been dulled to a quiet hum, you step away from him. Put the necessary distance between your bodies as he watches you go.

“You shouldn’t be talking to him,” he says simply, almost as if it were obvious. “In fact, you shouldn’t be here at all.”

You scoff, rearing back to stare at him incredulously. “I’m sorry…you’re joking, right?”

“It’s a work night,” he replies, still infuriatingly cool. “And we agreed you wouldn’t do business with him—”

“We agreed?” Your eyebrow raises. “No, we didn’t agree on anything. You ran him out of the room without so much as checking with me first. And since when are we a we at all?”

He’s far too calm for your liking. “I told you, I’m still your boss. And partner. I want what’s best for you—”

“Really? Is that why you left?”

Once again, he scowls. “I told you, I had things to do—”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you snort. “Look, I don’t care why you left. I don’t even care that you left. But you did leave. So if I want to film with Max, I have every right to do so—”

“You do,” he agrees. “But you’re much smarter than that, Peach. And you know it.”

“Yeah? And what makes me so smart, hm? Sleeping with you?”

His expression twists into something you don’t recognize. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Sleep with you? Or point out that we did?”

“Peach—”

“No, you know what?” You take a brave step forward. “You have no right to come in here and demand that I leave him. Max is a good guy. In fact, of all the people that I’ve messaged on OnlyFans, he’s the only one that hasn’t said something skeevy or inappropriate.”

His expression falls. “Are you being harassed?”

“Not if I don’t respond. The block button exists for a reason. And that’s not even the point. The point is that you told me to do this. You told me it would be good for my channel to collaborate—”

“But not with him.”

“Then who? You?”

The hallway stills as Mr. Styles leans back. “This was never about me.”

“No. It wasn’t. It was about me,” you agree. “That’s what you promised. That this would be about what I wanted to do. And I want to meet with Max.”

The glare returns. “If you’re trying to punish me—”

“Punish you?” You laugh but it’s void of all humor. “Punish you for what? For being exactly who I thought you were?”

“You shouldn’t be here with him,” he says again, and your eyes roll.

“Then where should I be, huh, Sir? Should I be at home? Like a good little girl?” You take another step forward. “Should I be on my knees, waiting for you? Should I be fucking myself with that toy you bought? Pretending it’s you?”

You notice the muscles in his jaw constrict as he steels himself and throws you a look of warning. “Peach—”

“Because if I can’t fuck Max, and I can’t fuck you, then what do you want from me?” Another step. “You’re never happy. I can never make you happy—”

“Peach—”

“I get that this meant nothing to you. I get that.” You’re only inches away now. “But…you’re so confusing. You’re so goddamn confusing, and I never know what you really want. Sometimes I think I do, and other times…”

His lips purse shut but his eyes are soft.

“I feel like we used to want the same thing,” you admit quietly, heart in your throat as you stare up at the beautiful man before you. Your rage dwindles down to a contemplative annoyance. “And now we don’t. So…excuse me for trying to find somebody who does want me.”

Suddenly, he surges forward. Stepping up to you so quickly, and with so much power that it forces you to stumble back into the wall.

He cages you there, his broad chest brushing against yours as he peers down, features hard and unmoving.

“And you think that somebody is Max?” he sneers, almost as if mocking you. “You think that he wants anything more from you than the money you’ll make him?”

“Who cares?” you argue, but it’s weaker than you’d like. “It’s an investment, you said so yourself—”

“I am your investor. Not him,” Mr. Styles nearly barks, practically chastising you. “How could it ever be him—”

“Because he’s everything you aren’t.”

He doesn’t even flinch, instead cocking his head to the side as he smirks. “So that’s what this is? You’re trying to replace me? Trying to find somebody better?”

“Well it’s not hard.”

The Cheshire-like grin grows. “Fine, Peach. Let me ask you this…do you like who you are with him? Do you like the role he puts you in?”

Your lashes flutter. “I don’t…I don’t know what you mean—”

“Yes, you do.” His head dips until he’s fully in your space, making it impossible to know anything else but him. “Do you like how he treats you as though you’re nothing more than a means to his end?”

A breath catches in your throat.

“Do you like how it’s never about you? Only him?”

You squirm back into the wall, once again attempting to create a bit of distance, but failing miserably as he places a hand next to your head.

“Do you like how insignificant he is?” His voice has dropped to a dangerous purr, like silk that slips across your cheek. “Or did you like it better with me?”

A question meant to trap you and you can do nothing more than stare at the buttons on his shirt as you will yourself not to gasp.

“Because I think you like yourself better in my reflection,” he murmurs, his other palm now smoothing across your hip, subtly tugging you into his body. “The way I make you beg for me. The way I touch you. Kiss you. Fuck you.”

The words weigh heavy on your chest, making it hard to breathe as his nose softly ghosts against yours.

“Everything is better with me. And you know it. So why are you wasting your time with him? Hm, Peach? Who are you really trying to punish? Me…or you?”

And you could just slap him. You really could. Could fucking slap the dimples right off his face for being so smug.

“I’m not punishing anybody,” you whisper, nails curling into your palms to brace yourself. “I’m just doing what you told me to.”

“Well now I’m telling you to leave him.”

“Why?”

His eyes flick between yours. “Why do you think?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I want to hear you say it.”

The frown returns. “Peach—”

“Say it, Mr. Styles,” you repeat. “And maybe I will leave him. Maybe I’ll walk out of this bar, and never look back. I’ll delete his number, I’ll block him, I’ll never think of reaching out to him again. I’ll leave. With you.”

You can see the way he internalizes this. Can feel his grip tighten, can see the muscles in the arm beside your head flex.

“Just say it,” you mumble again, reaching out to brush your fingers down his chest. “Tell me what you really want. Because maybe I want it, too.”

Everything moves around you. The world, time, this moment.

But neither of you move.

And as the seconds pass, you can’t help but silently will him to finally be honest with you. To finally succumb to what he really needs. To make everything that’s happened mean something.

Then, his eyebrows weave together, and his lips turn down. “I want you to go home,” he finally says, and your heart drops so fast, it makes your head spin. “You’re drunk, and you shouldn’t be alone with him.”

“I’m not drunk,” you retort, now shoving on his sternum to create that space you so desperately need. “I’ve had one drink. And I’m not alone. You’re here.”

And maybe it’s too dark in this hallway to be sure, but you’re almost positive you see something painful flash behind his eyes.

“I won’t be for long,” he replies as he pushes off the wall and steps back. “I have other things to do besides babysit you.”

And that is your slap to the face.

Your hands ball into fists by your side. “You are such a fucking asshole. I never asked you to babysit me. I didn’t even want you here—”

“Clearly you need it,” he argues. “Since you aren’t capable of making decisions on your own. Even when you’re sober.”

You scoff so loud, it makes your throat sore. “I was doing just fine without you—”

“You were scraping by,” he corrects. “And you could do so much better if you realized that he’s nothing but a waste of time and sperm.”

Your nose crinkles as you make your way to the end of the hall, ready to rid yourself of him. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t…I can’t argue with you over the same goddamn thing. Okay, Max is nice to me. He tells me what he actually feels, and that’s something you could never understand.”

You think you see the briefest hint of disappointment, but it’s replaced just as quickly by a look of unamused indignation. “Fine. If you’d like your sex life and your career to be as mediocre as his cock…by all means. The choice is yours.”

“It is,” you agree coldly, ready to turn on your heel and run. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Styles.”

With that, you exit the hallway, leaving him behind.

And he lets you.

The following day, things aren’t as awkward as you expected. Mr. Styles doesn’t mention your run-in at the bar, nor does he attempt to restart the conversation about Max.

He treats you the way he did when he first hired you. With nothing but professionalism and distance.

At first, you’re thankful. There are no more sly comments or lingering stares at your chest. He follows your terms to let you make your own decisions. He lets your business be yours.

And he’s nothing more than your boss.

But as the days progress, you can’t shake the nagging thought that something bigger is afoot. Almost as though something is wrong. Off.

Maybe it’s just in your head. Maybe you want to believe he’s more affected by this little falling out than he pretends to be.

But you’ve known him for over a year. You know what it looks like when he’s upset, and this…this is not it.

However, you decide to push away the inclination altogether, and carry on with your work as usual. Because even if something is wrong, it’s none of your concern anymore.

That is until Nadia mentions it over lunch.

“Listen, he’s a very complicated man,” she says when you comment on his odd behavior, waving her salad fork through the air. “He tries so hard to appear uninterested, but I know it’s just an act. Nobody is that heartless.”

You swirl your French fry around in your ketchup, mulling this over. “I don’t know. He doesn’t…I don’t think he’s heartless. I think that’s just…who he is. He has a one-track mind.”

Nadia snorts. “Please. You should have seen him before…”

Your little lunch corner goes oddly silent as she suddenly presses her lips together and winces.

“Before…?” you repeat curiously, head tilting.

“Nothing,” she’s quick to reply, dismissing the comment with a flutter of her hand. “No, nothing. He just…he was more open when he first started the company, that’s all.”

You know there’s more to that story than she’s letting on, but you don’t push. Instead nodding your head as you return to your burger, letting the inquiry rest.

However, the subject is changed for all of three minutes before she sighs, and finally says, “Okay, look, it’s none of my business. And I don’t even know all of details, but maybe this will help make your job…easier?”

Once again struck with curiosity, you motion for her to continue.

“He had an assistant before you,” she begins. “His first assistant actually. I don’t know too much because I was working the mail room. But I do know that they were really close. Maybe friends, maybe more. I don’t know. But they were close.”

You lean back in your seat, endlessly intrigued as you wait for the rest.

“And everybody loved them together. She made him so happy. He was always smiling, always laughing, always walking around the office talking to everybody. Engaging in chit chat and catching up on everyone’s lives.”

It’s odd to picture your boss so open. So…infatuated. In fact, this fantasy she’s painting doesn’t sound like the man you know at all.

You have to wonder how different things would have been if he were still the same.

“Anyway, I don’t know what happened exactly, but something bad,” Nadia sighs. “The rumor was that she was seeing somebody he didn’t like. He got crazy possessive over her, and it drove them apart. She quit, and he became this sullen, hollow version of himself. And now that’s just who he is, I guess.”

“That’s…so sad,” is about all you can offer, frowning some as she nods.

“Yeah. It was,” she agrees. “After her, he didn’t hire another personal assistant for quite some time. Until you, actually. Which was kind of surprising, and I think we were all a little worried for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, you seem to be handling him just fine, which is great. But…I don’t know. He just became very…cold. Distant, I guess. Doesn’t really create personal relationships anymore.”

You have to admit that this makes sense, although it doesn’t exactly help make things any clearer for you. “That must have been hard for him.”

“Yeah. And maybe he taught himself not to care, but…I think he hides who he really is because of her,” she admits with a shrug. “Which sucks. ’Cause he’s such a good guy, deep down. He just…he’s afraid, I guess.”

You hate the way your heart breaks for him. Hate the way this humanizes him. Hate the way it makes you second guess every interaction the two of you have ever had.

“Does he ever talk about her?” you ask next.

“No, never. I don’t even remember her name, to be honest. It was forever ago. Five or six years, at least.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. As far as I know, he doesn’t date, either. I think he fucks around a bit. I mean, he’s a guy, after all,” she teases. “But he doesn’t really do anything…meaningful. Maybe he doesn’t know how anymore.”

Your stomach twists around an invisible knife. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” she hums, digging back into her salad. “I don’t know. If he’s being rude, just tell him to fuck off. That always works for me.”

You laugh as the subject is dropped and the two of you carry on with your lunch.

But you think about it for the rest of the day, the information following you back to his office where you’re quick to find that he’s left for the afternoon.

So, you sit with this discovery as you go through your tasks. Unable to stray from the thought for very long before your throat constricts, and you feel a wave of disappointment.

You text him as you’re leaving for the evening. A simple, “Finished prepping the presentation. Hope you’re okay,” before you tuck your phone away and head home.

Hours go by without a response. Not that you really expected one, but you can’t help feeling slightly guilty for the role you played in pushing him to open up.

And no matter how out of line he was, or how justified you were in asking for his honesty, you know how hard it must be for him to be honest with you.

Especially if what Nadia said is true.

After messaging Max for a bit about your upcoming video, you decide to run yourself a bath, letting the bubbles fill the tub as you watch the water rise.

You’ve barely slipped out of your socks when your phone vibrates on the porcelain sink, making you jump some at the sudden noise.

The familiar name flashes across the screen, making your heart skip as you hesitantly hit the green button and bring the phone to your ear. “…hello?”

“You did it, didn’t you?” Mr. Styles says, but even through the static, you can hear that there’s something off.

“Did…what?” you ask hesitantly.

“You fucked him,” comes the reply. Blunt and void of any civility. “Max. You fucked him, didn’t you?”

With narrowed eyes, you turn the water off and step out of the bathroom. “I don’t believe that’s any of your concern—”

“So, yes,” he answers for you. Then, you hear him chuckle to himself. However, there’s something chilling about the way he laughs. Bitter, almost. “You’re very easy to read, Peach.”

You can feel your expression fall into one of annoyance as you lean against the wall in the hallway. “Mr. Styles—”

“Was he good?”

You glower. “Mr. Styles—”

“I already know the answer is no,” he continues. “Even your own fingers would be better, but…maybe I just wanted to hear you say he wasn’t.”

You contemplate this for only a moment before you cautiously ask, “Are you drunk?”

You can hear the subtle slur slip through the speaker, and your eyebrows raise as he snorts.

“No, I’m curious,” he retorts, but it makes your heart pound. “And I’m still a subscriber. So I want to know what to expect.”

Your stomach wrenches. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Why are you avoiding my question?”

“Mr. Styles—”

“You like to torture me, don’t you?” he interrupts, and there’s a hitch in your breath. “You always have. From the first day I met you. You were wearing that really nice dress. And your hair was up in that pretty ponytail. And you walked in like you were trying to walk into my life and ruin me.”

Your head falls back into the wall, eyes fluttering shut. “Sir—”

“And I let you,” he carries on. “I let you ruin me. I let you do the one thing I promised I’d never do, and now what? Now you’ve gone and strutted your way into somebody else’s life.”

And maybe he doesn’t know what he’s saying, but you feel this overwhelming rush of emotion, anyhow. “Mr. Styles, where are you?”

“Where would you like me to be?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Says you.”

You huff. “Mr. Styles—”

“Tell Max I said hello,” he says instead. “And then tell him I don’t mean it.”

“Mr. Styles—”

There’s some sort of loud noise on his end before the line suddenly beeps three times and the call goes dead.

And you can only stand there, flabbergasted, as you stare at your phone. Wondering what the hell just happened.

You’re frozen for a good minute or two, running through your options. He normally doesn’t reach out when he’s drinking, at least not to you, and definitely not this late.

Maybe it’s a silent cry for help or maybe he just wanted to bother you one last time.

Either way, it breeds something unnerving in your gut as you groan to yourself and head back to your room to retrieve your shoes.

You don’t imagine he’s out. He has to be at his apartment, so at least you know he’s probably safe. But you don’t know what he might do. You don’t know what that sound was, and if he’s managed to hurt himself, but you don’t think anyone will be there to help for quite a while.

You grab the key he’d given you a few months ago. It was meant only for emergencies, although you’ve never needed to use it.

Tonight, however, you decide that this is as good an excuse as any.

You call an Uber to take you to his place, the lavish apartment building smack in the middle of downtown, quite a bit away from you.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad this late at night, and you’re grateful for the quick trip as you’re brought to a stop just outside the sidewalk in under thirty minutes.

You jump out, greet the doorman, and book it for the elevator before hitting the button for his apartment at the top of the building.

It’s a good three-minute ride before you finally reach his floor, and once those doors open, your heart leaps into your throat.

Even the hallway is exquisite, and your dirty Vans squeak along the newly waxed floors as you approach his apartment, and fumble with the key.

You unlock it as slowly and quietly as you can, hoping not to startle him if he is in fact inside, and the moment the door is cracked, you call, “Mr. Styles? Are you here?”

Everything is dark as you enter. Not a single lamp to be seen, only the soft glow of the city lights outside of his many large windows, and the pale shadow of the moon cascading across the floors.

You see silhouettes of furniture, walls, and a few appliances. Enough that you manage not to trip over anything as you make your way into his living room.

And then, you see him.

The shape of his body is outlined by the window to your left. He’s sitting on the floor, back against the wall as he stares out at the tall skyscrapers before him.

Your heart sinks as you pocket the keys and approach slowly. “Mr. Styles?”

He’s still. Deathly still, in fact. As if he hasn’t even heard you. He doesn’t even bother to look over or investigate your presence.

And then, he murmurs, “You shouldn’t be here.”

Your breath hitches. “Maybe not,” you reply quietly, taking another cautious step. “But I was worried about you.”

He snorts, arms slung over his knees, a crystal glass in one hand that’s only got a few drops left. “How nice.”

“Mr. Styles,” you try again, “are you all right?”

Now close enough to catch a glimpse of his profile, you see the sweaty hair matted to his forehead. The strain in his jaw and the red rim around his eyes.

“M’fine. You can go,” he calls.

You take another step. “You didn’t sound fine—”

“Well I am, all right?” he suddenly sneers, turning to face you as you lean back. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“It’s not pity. It’s concern,” you correct briskly. “You’re drunk, and upset—”

“Yeah? What was your first fucking clue?”

You shoot him a look of warning as you bridge the gap and hesitantly crouch down to his level. “Why are you drinking?”

“Because I fucking can,” is his reply, his normally soft green eyes now as sharp as the edge of a sword. “Is that a problem?”

“Maybe. Do you remember calling me?”

“Of course I fucking do. But I don’t remember asking you to come here.”

“You didn’t,” you agree. “But I wanted to. Because I was worried.”

“Why? Don’t you have better things to worry about now?”

You’ve never heard him sound so insecure, and you’re reminded again of Nadia’s story as you glance over his expression. “I haven’t slept with Max.”

This is the only thing that seems to reach him, his lashes fluttering as he leans back, although his scowl remains put. “Why not?”

“We just haven’t yet. We’re still planning the video.”

“So you’re going to?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You think so.”

“I plan to.”

He scoffs beneath a quiet breath and looks back out the window. “And you needed to come here to tell me that?”

“I came here because I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you tell him again. “And to set the record straight.”

“Why? You were right, it’s none of my fucking business.”

“It’s not, but you still seem to care.”

He snorts. “I don’t fucking care who you sleep with, Peach.”

“Sure, okay. Is that why you tried to keep me from doing it?”

“I was trying to help.”

“You’d help me a lot more if you were honest.”

“I am honest. I’m always fucking honest.”

“Not about this.”

His eyes return to yours. “I told you, you can do better. That’s my honest opinion.”

“Fine.” You take a moment to study him. “Then why did you offer to help me?”

His head drops back against the wall as he mulls this over, but his gaze never leaves you. “Because you needed the help. I knew you could make more money if you just did things a little differently, and I was right.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“What else would it be?”

Your head tilts. “Why did you agree to be in the video with me?”

“You said you didn’t have anyone else.”

“Why did you get me custom jewelry with your initials?”

His teeth begin to grit, the grasp on his glass tightening some. “What?”

“The peaches would have been fine. My initials would have been fine. But you wanted me to wear your name,” you remind him. “Why?”

“I already told you, I wanted him to know who your real partner was—”

“Yeah? Then why did you leave?”

His lips press together. “I thought you didn’t care—”

“I do now. Why?”

“I had somewhere to be—”

“Where?”

“Yes, where? Where did you have to be?”

He seems to fight himself on the answer before finally admitting, “The gym.”

You lean back, blinking quickly. “I’m sorry, you rushed out of there to go to the gym?”

“Yes.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff as you shake your head. “Wow. No, I should have assumed as much. Makes perfect sense. Clearly that was so much more important than just telling me I made you uncomfortable—”

“You didn’t,” he suddenly interjects, shooting you this look like he’s disappointed in your response. “I left because I knew I couldn’t stay.”

“You couldn’t stay? And why the fuck not?”

“Because—” He stops himself, once again clamping his jaw shut as if wrestling with the truth. Then, he drops his head, eyes finding the floor as he glares at the marble beneath. “Because I couldn’t.”

And you want to scream because you don’t know if he’ll ever be honest with you. Don’t know what to do to reach him.

“You know what I think?” you finally huff, and he looks up. “I think this is about her.”

Confused, he glances over your expression. “Her who?”

“The girl who used to work for you. Your first assistant. The one who left.”

Instantly, the atmosphere changes, his entire demeanor shifting on a dime as he presses his back into the wall and shoots you a venomous look of intimidation. “Oh you do, do you?”

“Yeah.” You hold your ground, keep your shoulders stiff. “I think you loved her. I think you were honest with her. I think you let yourself trust her, and I think…she broke that trust.”

You can tell he’s not quite sure what to do with this, furrowed brows still knitted together. “And where the fuck did you get that?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s true, isn’t it?”

His finger taps the edge of the crystal in thought, but his contemplative expression remains. “Even if it were, what does this have to do with us?”

“Everything,” you say simply. “She broke your trust, and you chose not to get close to anyone again. But then you started helping me. And we got closer. And created a bond—created trust. And the second you realized, you ran for the hills.”

He snorts again, but he doesn’t rush to deny it.

So, you carry on. “Max coming along only made things worse for your fragile little ego. And maybe you were trying to keep it from happening again, but you did a really shitty job of it. And now here we are, sitting on your floor, saying everything but what we really mean.”

He’s angry. He’s so very angry, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, fighting himself on what he really wants to say.

You scoot closer, gently reaching out to take the crystal glass from his hand so you can place it on the floor. Then, you rest your palm atop his arm, and meet his eye.

“Harry,” you whisper, and he sucks in a sharp breath, tensing beneath your touch. “I’m not her. And maybe that’s a good thing, maybe it’s not. But I have only ever wanted it to be you.”

He’s quiet but you have his full attention. And the intrigue in his features urges you to continue.

“Even before you told me that you watched, I imagined you,” you admit quietly. “I’ve always imagined you. Your voice, and your hands, and your face. And yeah, I didn’t mind keeping things…professional. Strictly about the content and nothing more. But…you have to know I wanted more.”

Once again, the back of his head meets the wall, as if bracing himself from your honesty.

“I wanted more,” you repeat. “And I thought you did, too. Maybe that’s why it’s been so hard, and maybe that’s why I tried to use Max to move on. But I never wanted Max. I only wanted you. I just…I wasn’t sure I could have you.”

He looks down at your hand, gaze softening when he sees the way it looks on his arm. Like he’s mesmerized by your touch.

“And I need you to tell me right now what you want,” you say softly. “I need the truth. I have to know if we’re running around in circles for no reason, or if…maybe we can get off this ride together.”

He’s silent for quite a long stretch, letting himself ponder a response as the apartment fills with a solemn quiet.

You study his face in the soft glow of the moonlight, wonderstruck by the sharp curve of his jaw in contrast to the soft curls near his cheeks.

Even now, he’s breathtaking.

Finally, he clears his throat. “Ellie.”

“What?”

“Her name,” he says, “was Ellie. And you’re right, I did trust her. But I ruined it. Not her.”

Now it’s your turn to listen as he recalls this memory to you, nodding gently for him to continue.

“She didn’t…she loved somebody that wasn’t me. That was her only fault,” he murmurs, once again staring at your hand as your thumb strokes his tan skin. “And it wasn’t even a fault. But I hated it. Because I wanted it to be me. And it was never going to be me. We both knew that.”

Slowly, his arm turns over, allowing your gentle touches to dance along the more sensitive skin.

You smile.

“I crossed so many fucking lines,” he admits quietly. “As her boss, as her friend. I pushed her away only to drag her back and try to keep her close. I suffocated her. I let myself need her in ways I shouldn’t have. She had every right to leave. In fact, she should have left sooner.”

You feel the tips of his fingers brush against you as he subtly grabs on.

“And then you,” he whispers, eyes still locked on where you’re connected. “I’d been doing so good. Didn’t let myself slip again, and then you came along, and everything was fucked. Because I knew I couldn’t do to you what I’d done to her. But I let myself think about you anyway. Even when I shouldn’t have.”

You can feel tears crawling up the back of your throat, and the wounded look on his face is like a fist to the heart.

“And for some fucking reason, I thought offering my advice would allow me to know you without ruining anything,” he sighs, tugging you a bit closer until your knees collide with his. “Which obviously didn’t work. And then I was looking for excuses to be with you. To have you. To touch you. Even though I knew better. Even though I had to know better.”

He takes a deep breath. Holds it.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he eventually exhales. “And I got scared that the only reason you felt like you wanted more was because I somehow tricked you into it. I confused you, I manipulated the situation. It wasn’t real. And I wanted it to be real. But then Max, and I got so fucking angry, and I knew I was doing it again. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to you.”

He won’t look up. He won’t meet your eye, and the hard set of his jaw makes you take hold of his other arm and squeeze it tight.

“Harry,” you whisper, but his head shakes quickly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he barrels on, fingers wrapping around your elbow, keeping you close. “Because I can’t have it. I can’t have you. And you were right, I can’t be your partner anymore. I can only be your boss.”

You frown but it’s sad. “Harry—”

“Mr. Styles,” he corrects, finally shooting you a look of warning that breaks your heart.

But you aren’t deterred. Instead, you release him so you can wedge yourself between his legs and take hold of his face. “Harry,” you repeat, urgent but gentle. “This? It’s not the same.”

He struggles a bit in your grasp, tensing up as he tries to pull away. But it only lasts a second before he’s settling into your embrace, allowing you to guide his attention to you.

“It’s real,” you whisper. “It’s so fucking real. It was real even before you called me poor and badly dressed.”

This earns you your first smirk of the evening, and the butterflies that explode in your gut nearly make you dizzy.

“You’ve tried to push me away over and over. But I’m still sitting here, on your floor, begging you to talk to me.” Your thumbs delicately brush across the bags under his eyes, and he seems to nuzzle into your palms. “It’s not the same. You’re not just my boss or my investor. You’re my partner, Harry. And I can’t do this without you.”

His arms slowly slip around your middle, encouraging you onto his lap as his legs drop.

And you eagerly oblige, straddling his hips with ease as you look down at him.

“I don’t want to do this without you,” you murmur. “So don’t make me. Please.”

For a moment, you aren’t sure what he’ll do. What he’ll say or feel. He’s still somewhat tense, and far too quiet.

Then, he tugs, crashing your lips into his.

And it’s the most honest thing he’s ever done.

“Turn around.”

The strong command leaves no room for argument as you quickly spin on your heel, eager to obey.

Your ass is revealed to the camera. Bright red from the many spanks Mr. Styles has landed to it. It complements the dark black lingerie set he recently purchased for you, something you’re both rather proud of, and perhaps the main feature of this video.

You hear him hum his approval as he approaches, large hands slipping over the curves of your hips. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs before shoving you onto the bed. “Think it’s time we show them what a wet little whore you are, hm?”

You feel his finger hook into the crotch of the panties before he’s ripping them aside, allowing your swollen cunt to glisten for the lens.

You gasp as the cool air hits you, but it quickly melts into a desolate whine when you feel his touch ghost up the back of your thigh.

“Look at you,” he muses, palms pulling on your cheeks to spread you open, giving your audience a firsthand glimpse of your mess. “So fucking pathetic, aren’t you, Peach? And all I’ve done is spank you.”

“Can’t…can’t help it, Sir,” you pant, steadying yourself on your hands and knees as your eyes flutter shut. “Just want you.”

“Oh you do, do you?” He kneads your bruised flesh with admiration. “Do you think you deserve it?”

You squirm a bit as you whimper, desperate to lean back into his touch before he lands another smack to your thigh, reminding you to stay still.

“Yes,” you finally answer, chin meeting your chest. “Wanna deserve it for you.”

You hear him chuckle under his breath as he allows his touch to travel toward your dripping pussy, large digit pushing through your folds just to make you mewl.

“I bet you do,” he replies, running up and down your cunt to collect you. Tease you. “But we have a deal, don’t we, honey?”

You want to kill him and kiss him all at the same time.

“Yes, Sir.”

“We do.” He pats you again, this time gently. “Go on and grab it, all right?”

With a nod, you outstretch your shaky hand for the object sitting on the bed only a few inches in front of you.

Already tender and slightly swollen from the way he played with you earlier (casually and much too cruel), you feel a rush of excitement as you hand him the chain.

After taking hold of it, he moves to sit in front of you, allowing him better access to the front of your body as he motions for you to sit back on your ankles.

“You ready?” he asks quietly, eyes flicking between yours as he looks for your consent.

You nod. “Always.”

With that, he reaches for your exposed tits and begins preparing your nipples for the clamps.

You swallow a dozen whines and whimpers as he works them shut, the subtle ache quickly dissolving into an immeasurable type of pleasure.

And he’s smiling so big, like he’s so proud of you. Proud of the way you look, proud of the way you feel, proud of the way you obey.

It makes the yearning in-between your thighs that much worse as he travels the other end of the chain down to your clit.

Once again, he plays with you. Drags his fingers up, down, and through to make you writhe, and make sure you’re ready.

Then, with great care but devious intent, he slips the clamp along the base of the sensitive nerves and secures it.

You choke on a gasp, body stilling as the sensation becomes a bit more familiar. It’s quite thrilling. Not painful, but prominent. Taunting you with its power as you glance down at the way it holds you.

Harry leans back to study you, carefully observing every pull of your brows or hitch in your breath. “You okay, Peach?”

You nod, lip sliding between your teeth.

He frowns. “Color.”

“Green,” you say quickly, nails digging into your thighs as you release a heavy exhale. “It’s just…new.”

His expression softens as he reaches out to grasp onto your chin and squeeze once. “I know, my love. But you’ll take it for me, won’t you?”

And you say, “Yes,” with so much adoration and excitement that it returns those dimples to you.

His eyes drift toward the computer, checking the status of the livestream you assume before he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

You know your faces aren’t in the frame, but it makes your heart pound nonetheless as he offers you a moment of his affection.

“How’s your ass?” he mumbles between kisses to your bottom lip.

You nod gently and sigh into his mouth. “Good. Sore.”

And he chuckles as he sends you a devious wink. “Good.”

With that, he stands, and begins to undo his belt as he returns to his spot behind you. He doesn’t plan to be gentle today. Not for your first live appearance, and you’re grateful for his punishing hand as it ghosts down your spine, guiding you.

It travels between your thighs, tapping them briskly as a reminder to keep them spread as you bend back over.

And once you’ve braced yourself against the mattress, you feel those long, skilled fingers nudging at you again.

“Sir,” you whisper, desperate for the friction as he keeps his touch light, merely tracing patterns along your folds while humming to himself.

“Yes, Peach?”

You swallow thickly. “Please?”

“Please?” His thumb moves up to brush over your tighter hole, and you gasp again as you await any sort of contact. “Please what?”

“Please…please touch me?”

“Touch you,” he repeats thoughtfully, as if considering it. “I don’t know. Have you disobeyed any of my rules?”

With a quick shake of your head, you glance down at the duvet beneath you, the expensive fabric soft beneath your clenched fists.

“Have you used any naughty language?” he asks, the tip of his middle finger lowering to circle through your arousal.

“No,” you breathe.

He begins to push in, leaving your other opening alone. At least for today. “Have you called me by the wrong name?”

Not aloud, you think, biting back a smirk as you murmur, “No, Sir.”

The digit travels a bit further, the feeling of him pushing past your tight walls like heroin as you reel.

“Have you taken your punishment like a good girl?” he inquires next, and you chew on the inside of your lip as you nod.

“Yes.”

And you can’t exactly see him, but you can practically hear his smirk as he suddenly adds a second finger in beside the first, just to surprise you.

“Yes,” he agrees. “You have. Been my perfect peach, haven’t you? Guess you’re showing off for them, hm? Letting them think you’re actually an obedient little cock-whore?”

And maybe you are showing off, at least a little, but it’s hard not to obey this man. He just makes it so…worth it.

“Yes,” you call again, desperate to please him. “Only for you, Sir.”

Suddenly, you feel his fist against your scalp, scraping through your roots as he furiously yanks, forcing your head up.

“Only for me,” he nearly seethes, dipping down to press his lips against your ear. “Want you to fucking say it. Every time I touch you. Every time I make you come. Want you to say it. Remind them who you really belong to.”

Apparently, having his initials glimmer from your nipples isn’t enough, but that’s more than all right with you.

You’ll happily vow your life to him as many times as he needs. Because there’s something empowering about having a man beg you to be his.

And for the first time since you’ve met him, you realize…you’re on the same ground. Equal partners. Equal power.

You and him.

One.

With that instruction, he curls, now stroking and thrusting into you with a fervent need to force you up the mountain.

“Only you,” you whisper between salacious moans for relief. “Only, Sir.”

“That’s right,” he hisses, smacking his other palm against your ass before groping at the tender skin. Soothing it and stimulating it at the same time.

The pace increases, faster and faster until you feel as though you can’t breathe. Until you’re trying to meet his rhythm by rocking back into his touch, but the hand on your hip holds you steady. Makes you patient.

“Only you.” It’s almost inaudible, released through quivering lips as you begin to slip into your first. “Only you. Only…”

He plunges in to the knuckle, beckoning you toward your release as it hits you hard. Fireworks go off behind your eyes as you keen, sweat beading around your hairline, and chest heaving.

“God, only you,” you barely manage as you fight for air. “Just you, Sir. Always.”

He takes his fingers out, allowing the world to see your come drip along the insides of your thighs. And the loss of contact makes your chest ache as you whimper and peek over your shoulder for a glimpse of his face.

He’s smug. Because of course he is, endlessly pleased with the way you’ve come undone so quickly.

Wet digits quickly outstretch for your cheeks, pushing on your lips to accentuate your already obvious pout.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warns darkly. “You know better.”

You glance up at him with remorse and desperation, hoping your tiny hum will be enough to sway him. “M’sorry, Daddy.”

It’s the first time today you’ve used the nickname, and you watch the effect it has on him as he tightens his grip and scrapes his teeth together.

“Peach,” he grumbles, “don’t fucking test me. Not today.”

“I’m not. Promise. Just wanna feel you.”

And that’s the truth. It’s all you ever want. Want his cock, his time, his attention. Anything he’ll give you, and he knows this.

Because he wants you just as bad.

And maybe, if he had the strength, he’d punish you for this little game. He’d waste hours just making you wait for him. Tying you up, leaving you to beg, taunting you with something you can’t have.

But today, that would punish him, too. And you can see that he doesn’t have the capacity to go without you, not even for show.

So, he releases his hold on you only to land a very firm and sharp smack to your cheek. And it stings but it feels so good, forcing another groan as you lean back.

“And you will,” he finally decides, settling behind you again as he begins to tug his pants down. “Gonna feel me for days, honey. Make sure you can’t fucking sit without thinking of me.”

Just the image of you in one of those boardroom meetings, legs still bruised and clenched tightly together as you sit for hours on end makes you gasp.

He’s gotten braver recently. Normally, he’s tame. Making you rest on his lap in the privacy of his office while he absentmindedly runs circles over your clit. Answering emails as he plays with you. Like it’s just an average workday.

But now he tries to tease you in public. In meetings, at lunch, when you’re apart. Making you sit with a remote-controlled toy deep inside your cunt during a meeting with the board of directors. Changing the tempo over and over again while forcing your silence. Leaving you to squirm in your seat as you silently beg him for mercy.

Sometimes he gives it to you. Most times…he does not.

You imagine this week will be no different. Especially after today. He always gets a bit more insatiable after the two of you have posted a video together.

He’ll make you watch it in his office. His now favorite tradition. And the comments and response will encourage something in him that makes you giddy. Possessive yet proud. Like he wants to outdo himself next time. Make you come harder, longer, faster. Make everyone watching eat their fucking hearts out.

You feel the tip of his swollen cock brush down your folds, lazily rubbing against you as he alerts you of his presence.

Just the feel of him makes you breathless, back arching as you silently plead with him for more.

He won’t give it to you, at least not yet. Not until he’s had a chance to watch you soak him.

He presses his hand against it, trapping it to your cunt while gliding it through your arousal. Gentle thrusts that have you clenching around nothing until you hear him curse to himself.

“Beg me,” he calls, grasping onto your ass cheek to pull it apart, allowing him a better view. “Beg me to fuck you, Peach. Beg Daddy to make it better.”

“Please,” you comply instantly, a subtle quiver in your voice. “Please, Daddy. Need you. Need to feel you. Hurts.”

“Oh, honey,” he coos, finally circling the rim of your aching hole and pushing in only an inch just to pull back. “Bet it does. Know I’ve been teasing you all day, haven’t I?”

You whine again. “I deserved it. Always love it when you tease me.”

He chuckles under his breath, and you know you’ve made him proud. “That’s right. Know you do, my love. Because you know I just wanna make it better for you, hm?”

“I know.” You attempt to wiggle back into him, but his unrelenting grip keeps you frozen to your spot. “Always do, Sir. Always make it better.”

He slides in again, further this time, allowing your body to stretch for him. Then, he slides out, leaving you to wilt as you swallow a groan.

“And I always will,” he answers, knee knocking into your inner thigh as an instruction to spread your legs a bit further. “Just have to behave for me. Think you can do that, Peach? Think you can be good for me?”

And you’ve never wanted anything more, head nodding quickly before he finally thrusts into you with such power and dominance that it knocks the wind from your lungs.

Truth be told, you never know what you’re going to get with him. What rhythm will drive him. But you’ll take anything he offers. Because hard and slow or fast and eager…it’s perfect. Sets your nerves on fire and leaves you desperate and depraved.

The sounds of him pushing through and pulling out are sure to be captured by the microphone. You can’t see the computer, but you imagine the audience is loving it. They always seem to enjoy sounds as much as you do. And Harry’s sounds are the best.

Your quick breaths intertwine seamlessly with his unforgiving grunts. Like a melody for the soul, and you slowly slide down until your chest meets the mattress, although your ass stays up.

He seems to like this angle, nails scraping down your spine before he lands another smack to your cheek. “There she is.”

Both sets of clamps are stimulated as you’re pushed against the bed, making your eyes roll back every time he drives himself to the hilt.

The pain is delicious. Exactly what you’d needed, and just when you think it can’t get any better…he slips an arm around your stomach and forces you back up.

Instantly, his hand is on your throat, tugging your back into his chest as he settles you down on his cock.

Dominant fingertips press into the sides of your neck, playing with your airways as you gasp. And for a moment, you are nothing more than his toy. Just a body for him to use, and the idea makes you clamp down on him until he groans and nuzzles his nose into your shoulder.

But you know it’s more to him than that. Know that you’re not just this thing for him to abuse and ruin. He wants to worship you. Treat your body like the divine gift it is, and even though this display of aggression is uncouth…it’s meant for you. To make you feel good. Everything he does is always for you.

“So good, baby,” he whispers, just quiet enough that only you can hear. “Fucking love the way you feel, Peach. Always so warm for me. So wet. My perfect hole.”

You shudder, nails reaching for his arm to scratch down his skin. Desperate to be even closer to him.

His hand then drops to your chest, finding your breast and groping at it mercilessly as you cry out. The clamps are tugged, stimulating the rings, and forcing your back to arch. So many sensations are being exploited that it’s nearly impossible to think straight. Your mind is mush, focused only on one thing to keep from drowning:

Him.

“Wanna come, don’t you?” he taunts, now louder so the audience can hear. “Wanna come on my cock, so they see what I do to you?”

You nod quickly, unable to vocalize your agreement. But he doesn’t need it. He knows. Can read your body like a book, and it makes him smile into your heated skin.

“Good,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck before reaching down to undo the clamp around your clit. “Go.”

The moment the pressure is released, it hits you. Your toes curl, your eyes roll back, and you make so many noises, you wouldn’t be surprised if the people below Harry’s apartment can hear you.

He works you through each ripple and aftershock, perhaps hoping to send you into a third, but your body needs a moment to recharge.

And this is more than fine with him because it gives him a bit more time to watch himself disappear into you. His favorite part.

You collapse in his hold, held up only by his strong arm that’s thankfully bare, allowing you to glance down at his tattoos.

He takes his shirt off for almost every video now. He knows that nobody will be able to recognize his tattoos, but he especially knows how much you love them. Love to lick them, trace them, stare at them.

Your perfect pastime, and you think this now as you grip onto his wrist and squeeze.

He exhales into your shoulder before he’s suddenly cursing and pulling out, the sound of his slick cock slipping from your cunt making you whimper.

With a single pat to your hip, he growls, “On your back.”

You nearly throw yourself down onto the bed, finally able to face him fully as you’re met with the sight of his flushed cheeks.

He’s so beautiful when he’s turned on, and you feel nothing but grateful to be able to witness this sight firsthand. Even your audience is denied such a pleasure, and it makes it feel that much more special to you.

He pushes your legs apart and settles between your thighs, grasping onto his cock before guiding it toward your chest.

He never comes inside you on film. He claimed it was because they don’t deserve to see it, and you didn’t argue. You like the idea. Occasionally he’ll capture a short clip of the way he leaks out of your pussy, but it’s never posted. Instead saved just for the two of you to watch whenever you need.

So while you’ll miss feeling him inside of you today, you know that it’s worth it. You like that you get to keep something for just the two of you. You like this possessive side of him.

Love it, in fact.

Nodding at your breasts, he silently instructs you to grab them, to which you do, pushing them together as he brings his swollen and soaked cock closer.

Slowly, he slides between your tits, disappearing beneath the supple flesh as you both groan your approval.

He’s already seconds away from his own release, but he edges himself by fucking your tits for as long as he can. Staring wordlessly at the way he looks beside his initials on your nipples.

“Fuck, Peach,” he breathes, brows knitted together as his jaw clenches. “Like it like this, don’t you? Like it when I come like this?”

And you do, a soft sough of agreement all you can offer as you look down at the way his tip pokes through the valley you’ve created. The contrast of his pink flesh against your skin is beautiful. Artful, even. And it makes you smile, wider than you have all day.

His pace is slow, allowing you to feel the slickness paint your chest before he’s suddenly tensing, the muscles in his stomach contracting quickly.

You await his offering eagerly, practically panting as you watch him run his palm along his cock before he’s releasing all over your torso and chest.

He falls forward, bracing himself with a hand beside your head while you throw your arms around his neck to keep him close.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whisper as he milks the last few drops. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You feel a shiver roll across his body at your comment before he’s smashing his lips into yours, dancing his relieved sighs across your tongue.

It takes a good minute or two for you both to find your bearings, but once you have, he reaches toward the nightstand where the remote lies.

Aiming it at the camera, he clicks a couple of buttons, and the red light turns off, signaling that the livestream has ended.

Now alone in his massive bedroom, he grins down at you. “My sweet fucking girl. Did so well for me, honey.”

You bask in his praise, nuzzling your nose against his before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “That was fun. Like it when you fuck my tits.”

“Yeah?” He’s smirking again, palm now smacking against your breast just to watch it jiggle. “Good. ’Cause I don’t plan to stop.”

Your arms snake tighter around his neck until he’s forced to lay his chest against yours. “Think they liked it?”

“I know they did,” he murmurs, face disappearing into your neck as he breathes you in, sweaty or not. “They love you, Peach. You’re so good to them.”

You press your lips into his hair.

“You’re good to me, too,” he adds quietly, sliding his hand across your body until he can hold onto you. “Always so fucking good. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

A sort of flutter happens in your stomach as you squeeze him tighter. “Ditto.”

You stay there for a few minutes at least, teetering on the verge of sleep before Harry declares you need to get clean.

He scoops you up and carries you to his large bathtub, dipping you into the warm water once it’s ready and settling himself on the other side to face you.

You talk for what feels like hours, until you’re pruned, and the bubbles have disappeared. You go over the scene, go over what you think the comments will be, and even go over his schedule for the upcoming work week.

It’s weird the way you’ve managed to balance the relationship of boss and lover. You’re able to distinguish the two and create the appropriate boundaries. Making it easier to work together without driving each other nuts.

Something else you’re grateful for.

You stare at his wet abs as he talks, smiling to yourself as you admire every curve of his stomach, and every nipple he has to offer.

He splashes some water at you when he realizes before grabbing hold of your ankles and sliding your closer.

You kiss until you can’t breathe, and life feels really good.

Really fucking good.

Once you’re out and dried, you make your way back to his bedroom to make sure everything from the livestream is in order.

You scroll through a few of the responses together, making mental notes of what to do next time. And once you’re both in agreement that everything looks good, he adds it to your shared profile.

Appropriately titled,

Peaches and Cream.

I have no excuse for this or explanation, I'm just gonna blame it on the sick meds I took 🙃

I already miss them but I'm absolutely going to be doing some extras and maybe that'll make it not hurt so much 😭💞

Thank you to everyone who's read and been so kind and supportive!!! You have my entire heart forever and ever, I cannot tell you how appreciative I am 🥹♥️ This has been so fun!!

Peaches and Cream forever!!

Previous Part:

~ Four to Go*

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @narry-heart @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @likeapplejuicenpeach @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @finelinesss

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javarium · 11 months

Text

layers | geto/gojo.

— short story

you’re their favorite kouhai, everyone at tokyo and kyoto knows this. they also know that if anyone or anything were to touch or harm you in any way, they would feel the wrath of the most powerful duo. and one day, someone is dumb and foolish enough to do exactly that.

note(s): this isn’t a full complete drabble with a complete ending, but it’s something I’ve enjoyed writing. flop or no flop, this was a fun piece to write :D But tbh I’m thinking about deleting it and redoing it, or adding more. or maybe a part two lmao??

****

Trees were nothing but a blur of green to your vision. The car was going fast, way too fast for you to make out anything but the simple colors blue and green.

You blinked several times, shaking your head to keep yourself from dozing off. You were tired, so very very tired from such a long and exhausting two days of being on a First Grade mission that turned out to be a bigger issue and much more than it was worth.

They should’ve sent backup with me…

You leaned your head against the back of the backseat. You closed your eyes for just a moment, then opened them again for just a few seconds. The process was rinse and repeat; the only way to keep yourself awake.

Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t… Just… don’t…

“Hang on, Miss [Last Name]!” frantically spoke the driver. He was probably looking in the rear view mirror, seeing you laying back on the seat with your eyes opening and closing. More so of the latter.

You heard the sound of a dial, then the voice of your driver hurriedly speaking into it. Problem was, you couldn’t understand a single word he was saying. It was all so… incoherent. Funny enough, it sounded like you were underwater.

Your head lolled to the side again, eyes half open with nothing but the same blur of green outside the window. Your hand was still over the wound, covering it with as much pressure as possible until you got to the school.

Unless you passed out first.

You could only imagine your upperclassmen holding this over your head as a joke for the rest of your life.

If you got to a medic in time, that is.

——————————

Everything had been fine. Just fine.

Great, in fact, he muses.

Him and Geto had been getting some ice cream to satisfy his sweet tooth, while Shoko complained that he was eating too much while munching away on her own ice cream like a damn hypocrite.

“What should we do now?” Shoko questioned.

“Might as well head back to the school,” Suguru suggested. “It is getting late and—”

“You’re no fun!!” Satoru complained. “Why are you so by the book?”

The black-haired male gives his childish friend a look of both amusement and exasperation. Of course Satoru was going to be like this. It was in his nature to be as anti-rules as possible. Especially if it meant pissing off the higher-ups.

“Alright, we’ll go—”

Shoko holds up a pointer finger to halt the conversation. “Aha, hold up guys. Sensei’s calling.”

“Maaaan! What now?” Satoru whines.

Just as the white-haired male goes to complain some more, he realizes Suguru’s expression changes. And that he’s not looking at him anymore — that he’s looking at Shoko now. So Satoru does the same, and now he sees his brunette friend’s face sheet white, eyes growing red like she’s about to start crying.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be there.”

She clicks the phone off and looks to Geto, the whites of her eyes beginning to become red.

“Shoko?”

“We need to get back to the school. [Name]-chan’s hurt.”

The two males freeze, eyes going wider than saucers. But that reaction doesn’t last but two seconds, and Suguru’s pulling out his fastest Cursed Spirit he’s got and finishing the rest of the route back to school on it with his friends.

He and Satoru turn to look at one another, and Suguru knew his heart was the only one beating wildly in nothing but terror.

The three of them watched as the car pulled up; they landed as soon as the driver got out of the car.

Satoru’s and Suguru’s breaths hitched the second they landed beside the car.

Anger. Rage. Was there even a word to describe how they felt?

The red of your blood became the red of their rage — the red being the only color that they could see.

“Shoko, can—”

Her hand is already placed on your left side, her Reverse Cursed Energy pumping through your body. But the damage was done.

Your head rolled to the back of the seat, right hand limp on your stomach and left hand open, hanging loosely over the edge of the seat. Blood covered your palms, all the way up the inside of your forearms and up to the crook of your elbow.

And how pale your skin was. Was anyone supposed to be that shade of skin color? Of course it wasn’t. They knew that already. You weren’t supposed to ever be this way. Their adorable kouhai that was just too sweet and too nice for the world they lived in was never supposed to end up like this: sickly pale, blood pouring from the wound in your stomach and knocking on death’s door.

Shoko finishes healing you after what seems like forever. In reality, it’s only just a few minutes. But in those few minutes, both Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru come to a full understanding of something: they realize that you mean a lot more to them than just being their cute little kouhai. They can’t imagine you living in a world without you in it. Every thought of you not being there didn’t settle with them. They hated it. They weren’t able to envision coming to school without you passing by them in the halls. Seeing a world where they visited your headstone was unacceptable.

So many thoughts, so much anger, all accumulated within a matter of minutes that drives a permanent mark into their hearts and minds: that a world without you in it is not worth living in, and they love you too much to see anything else bad happen to you.

Suddenly, Yaga Sensei appears before them. Shoko moves out of the way so he can grab you, haul you into his arms and carry you to the infirmary where they have painkillers and other medicine. Shoko follows him, but Satoru and Suguru remain behind.

“Suguru?”

“Hm?”

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“That we need to kill someone?”

“And that’s why you’re my best friend.”

———

Taglist: @vagabond-umlaut • @torusbabygoat

not the gojo x student reader you guys wanted ik ik but I wanted y’all to read this anyway so sue me 😭😭

#gojo satoru #geto suguru #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader x gojo #gojo x reader x geto #jjk imagines #jjk drabble #jjk oneshot #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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strawberri-elixir · 4 months

Text

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 4. FML

Warnings: another swear

note: more written parts again.

“Phones away. You know who you are.” Your teacher looked directly at you despite referring to the whole class.

You sighed, shoving the device in your pocket as Maki stifled a laugh. You mumbled a quiet ‘shut up’ before taking a sip of your coffee, staring at the board in front of you.

Your first class went by just fine, thanks to your caffeine intake. But as soon as you sat down next to Maki in your second class, you immediately felt your eyes begin to droop. The decisions that were made the night before were finally taking its toll on you.

“Fuck my life.” You murmur quietly.

It wasn’t long after when you felt your head grown heavy and your body start to sway, struggling to keep your body propped up. No more than a few minutes later, you gave in to the temptation and leaned forward, placing your head in your arms. A little nap wouldn’t hurt.

After what felt like only a few minutes, you felt Maki elbow your arm, a sign that class was over. You sit up, looking over at your friend as she gives you a suspicious grin.

“What are you looking at.” You shoot her a questioning look.

“Nothing.” She chuckles, standing up and beginning to walk out, knowing you’ll follow her. You quickly pack your belongings and chase after her, following her to your friend group’s usual lunch spot.

Once the two of you sat down, you finally pulled out your phone, looking at all of your notifications.

“Seriously.” You give Maki a light shove. She gives you a grin as she pulls out her phone and shows you the pictures she took of you.

“These are the best part of my day.” She swipes to the side, showcasing all the photos she has of you stored on her phone.

The two of you continue to wait for the rest of your friends to show up. Then finally you heard footsteps approaching and a pair of hands shake your shoulders.

“Boo.” Yuta poked his head into your field of vision.

You see Yuta, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi all take their seats beside you and Maki, smiles on all their faces (minus Megumi who gave you a respectful nod).

“How was class?” You throw the question out.

“Great!”

“Boring.”

“Meh.” You received various responses.

Everyone began eating their lunches, engaging in idle chatter as the break went on. You quietly drank your juice box, leaning your head on Yuta’s shoulder as you occasionally added into a part of the conversation.

Your angle and view of the group blocked your view of Yuta’s face, making you completely oblivious to the hint of red that spread across his face. Everyone else would send knowing glances in your direction, but kept their mouths shut.

Almost everyone.

"Hey Yuta, are you oka-" Yuji started before his mouth was immediately covered by Nobara’s hand.

“Huh?” Yuta responded.

“Nothing. He’s just being an idiot like usual.” The brunette answered for her friend.

“Oh, okay then.” He went back to eating. “Also, I have this friend from English class and I was wondering if he could join us?”

“Sure!” The group collectively responded.

“Awesome, thanks.” He smiled.

It wasn’t much longer until the bell rang, indicating that class was about to start and it was time for all of you to part ways. You all bid your goodbyes and walked off towards your classes.

Masterlist | Next

new characters met! ╰⇢ Yuji ╰⇢ Megumi

fun facts:

— it seems like everyone with a working pair of eyes can see how yuta looks at you (except maybe yuji)

— despite being first years, yuji, megumi, and nobara all befriended you through your gym class

— your whole group has a group chat that’s usually very active (mostly for homework answers tbh)

taglist:

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny @instantmusico @sad-darksoul

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ange1princess · 2 years

Text

Summary❕Watching p0rn with the demon brothers and what you'd watch.

Characters❕ Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, Belphegor

CW❕ Mutual masturbation, general NSFW, blowjobs, mentions of afab genitalia but no pronouns used, the word daddy used like once, thigh riding, blowjobs, male masturbation, semi-public sex (fucking at a party in a bathroom), tbh more suggestive than anything because i got so tired with this piece T_T probably grammar and spelling mistakes, let me know if i missed anything.

A/N ❕ This has taken almost a Month to write GOD ITS FINALLY DONE update ! It took over a month jfc T_T

Masterlist ❕

❕MDNI❕

❕𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑❕

🧷 Age gap porn kinda guy, dilf shit, and thigh riding

❝ He pretends that it isn't his idea, tries to pass it off as yours so that it's less embarassing for him, with a sighs he says "Well if you really want to try it out." Gets the idea from asmo because they were talking one day and he said something along the lines of "It'll add spice in your life~" and Lucifer hopes that's true.

❝ The two of you sit down at his desk, even when he wants a break he can't get one. He has you sitting on his lap as he tries to sign papers, telling you to give him just another minute and how this is the "last" document. You're bored so you go ahead and set up your phone, going to your chats and clicking on one of the many links he's sent you for your special night.

❝ That seems to get his attention as you prop it up against the pile of papers he's been looking over. Soft moans and whispers of "daddy please" and "more" mixed with muffled sobs make you wetter than they should.

❝ Without realising it, you start grinding down on his thigh, as much as he tries to continue working he can't once he sees your face contorted in pleasure as you try to get some relief, clutching onto Lucifers shirt in your balled up fists.

❝ He guides your hips against his thigh, ocassionally moving it to match the rhythm you've set. His eyes are full of lust, focused on the movement of your hips as he leans back on his chair, palming himself through his slacks, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

❝ The videos been long over now, and the only sound is of Lucifer calling you a good human and asking you to please him for the rest of the night.

❕𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍❕

🧷 POV blowjob vids and dry humping <3

❝ Suggests it while stuttering and blushing, ssaying that it's an honour for you that the great mammon wants to share such an intimate thing with you, but secretly he just wants to make you more comfortable with sharing your interests with him in the process.

❝ When you agree to it, he just asks you if you're free by texting you and if you say yes, he's there barging right in with his DDD in hand and a pillow for some bizarre reason (he's going to spend the night 100%).

❝ He sets up the device against a stack of pillows and gets comfortable, inching closer to you till there's no space left, swinging an arm around your waist as he mindlessly draws circles on the soft skin of your waist. The videos start and although you don't feel too aroused especially at the start, when you see mammon squirm and try to adjust himself "discreetly" you start shifting in your seat, a warmth blooming in the pit of your stomach.

❝ As the people on screen grind against each other fully clothed and you see mammon strain against his jeans, he tries to hide his little pants and sighs, but you being the observant one, you notice.

❝ You take the chance and straddle his lap, doing just as you saw in the video as he straightens his back to help you move your hips as the layers of clothes between you two only add to the friction as you speed up chasing your high, mammon telling you to go faster, his head thrown back and his hair a mess as you grab at it pushing his head to your chest.

❝ He helps you take off your top and leaves marks on your chest as he sucks on your nipples making you cry out in pleasure. It's not long before the both of you are cumming hard and you fall against his chest trying to catch your breath as you hear him say, "Fuck, well that sure made me feel younger."

❕𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍❕

🧷 Ik people want me to say some cosplay stuff, but i truly wholeheartedly believe it's student x teacher roleplay and temperature play for some reason

❝ OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT, initially you'll walk in on him trying to roleplay with an AI bot or a brand new game he purchased from Akuzon, while the p0rn would be playing in the background. He'd just be sitting there, dick out, not even realising that you've been standing there for at least 3 minutes now before you clear your throat, causing him to fall off his chair and scramble to cover himself up.

❝ He'd be convinced that you hate him now, that you think he's gross and pervy, and wouldn't want to be around him anymore, he might cry a little ngl. But before he knows it, you're texting him, asking him to come to your room with whatever device he was watching the videos on and he's more than happy to oblige, almost falls off of his chair but saves himself this time.

❝ When he enters your room, you ask if you can watch with him and he almost passes out because of how red he gets but he agrees almost too enthusiastically. The two of you sit there watching as you move your hand up his thigh and feel him stiffen under you, you turn to him giving him a seductive gaze and he gets where you're going with this, flipping you on your back, towering over you.

❝ He'd look bigger like this, towering over you now, not slouching anymore as he slowly kisses down your jaw, leaving marks down the side of your neck as he asks you to call him "professor" or the likes. He'd want to take control here, his desire as a demon overpowering his shy nature.

❝ He'd be quick to rid himself if his clothes as you underess yourself, bending you over the edge of your bed and asking you why you've been "naughty in his class", the next time he'll remember to bring some candles and ice for the two of you to try~

❕𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒❕

🧷 SOFT SEX!! SOFT PASSIONATE AMATEUR SEX VIDEOS, PROBABLY SHOWS YOU HOME VIDEOS HE'S MADE!!

❝ You cannot tell me that he doesn't come up to you asking you seductively if it would be okay to film the two of you the next time you have sex, he'd promise it's not for anyone but the two of you and he's able to convince you.

❝ Suggests the two of you watch home videos or amateur ones together to get a "how to" (he just wants to watch them with you, and he'd say it but this is easier and faster).

❝ When he plays the videos initially, the intimacy and passion, the closeness of the people on screen makes you look away. It feels as if you're interrupting or watching something that's not meant for you, but asmo brings you back, his fingers gently guiding your eyes back to the screen as he whispers in your ear to, "watch and learn".

❝ Shows you solo vids too, and you can recognise instantly that one of them is asmo, as he plays with himself, moving his fist along his length at an excruciatingly slow pace, letting out his pretty moans as he keeps edging himself, bringing himself to the precipice of pleasure but not letting himself orgasm.

❝ You turn to him, asking him if the two of you can try to recreate something like that right now and he's more than happy to oblige.

❕𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍❕

🧷 Pet play, and sex toys

❝ He loves calling you kitten or puppy (it's rare but it happens) and you know he has a thing for pet play even if he doesn't tell you, secretly bought a collar for you with his name on it and is too shy to give it to you, so his next best idea is to suggest the two of you watch some of his favourite p0rn together!

❝ Probably says that he read an article that says it increases intimacy and just wants to try it out with his beloved kitten, and so you agree, not that it takes a lot of convincing.

❝ It starts out with someone on their knees in a cage, as the person on the other side of the camera unlocks it's door, allowing them to crawl out. You hear coos of "good kitty" and "such a good pet" being uttered and it makes your palms sweaty with anticipation.

❝ Satan has a pillow on his lap, a feeble attempt to hide the imprint of his dick that's hard against his pants as he shifts around to try and get more comfortable as the scenes on the screen change and when you look back, you're greeted with the sight of a person tied to the bed with a vibrator against their clit as they try to struggle out of the binds.

❝ Turns to you and asks you how you're feeling, and all you can do is take his hand in yours and move them between your legs as he feels you getting wet, he runs his fingers up and down the soaked patch on your panties as you try to pull away, embarassed.

❝ He turns away for a moment, ruffling through something's in his bedside drawer and pulls out a collar with his name on it, dangling it in front of you, as your eyes widen and you life move closer to him, signalling him to collar you and he does.

❝ He gives it an experimental tug as a whimper tumbles out of you, heat rises to his cheeks but he chuckles nonetheless, you look so sweet like this, he thinks to himself as he leans forward, his fingers sliding your underwear aside, playing with you as he kisses your pretty lips with fervor.

❕𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁❕

🧷 Loves oral vids obviously, but also a big fan of wall sex vids, mirror sex and exhibitionism

❝ The both of you have extremely open conversations, Beel never keeps anything from you in terms of his desires and you do the same, the trust the both of you have in each other is what helps him grow bolder with his advances as time goes on.

❝ Comes up to you and tells you he wants to try something out, and you nod without even knowing what it is because of your faith in beel, he'd never do anything that would hurt you and would stop the second you want to.

❝ The two of you enter your room as he sits on the bed with you in his lap, holding his phone for the two of you to watch the video he puts on as both his arms are wrapped around you.

❝ But before you can go further as the guy in the video tries to muffle their partners moan, so that they don't attract any attention in the tiny bathroom stall, a quick knock at the door startled the two of you, causing the both of you two cover yourselves up, keeping the phone aside, faces hot and palms sweaty.

❝ After that little interruption, the both of you got caught up in helping with the preparation of another one of Diavolos balls. It had been 2 weeks since then and you still thought about it, wanting to touch beel and wanting him to show you stars.

❝ You couldn't help but gawk and him as he descended the stairs in his suit, looking like he came right out of a romcom. You waited with baited breath as he whispered, "You look beautiful as always," addressing you, before you linked your arm with his, wanting the night to end so that you can finally have some alone time with your love.

❝ Turns out, for someone extremely patient, Beel was starting to get jittery seeing you in your revealing outfit, he kept stealing glances, letting his hands linger on your waist, pulling you closer everytime someone asked you to dance with them.

❝ Before long, the both of you snuck out to one of Diavolos lavish bathrooms as he bent you over the marbel platform in front of the mirror. The loud music penetrated through the unlocked door, but the thrill of anyone finding you (even though you knew that you were in a more secluded part of the castle), made a shiver run down your spine.

❝ It didn't take long before your clothes were pulled aside as beel kissed you with a ferocity you'd rarely seen before, his hands hot on your skin as he slowly entered you making you squeal, only for your loud moans being swallowed by his lips that danced against yours.

❝ It wouldn't have been your first choice to continue the evening with cum leaking out of you, but fuck was it worth it.

❕𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑❕

🧷 ik everyone will say somnophilia ! So i will not, mutual masturbation, cockwarming and heavy degradation

❝ Man started watching porn in bed next to you when he thought you're asleep, but you weren't as you peeked over his shoulder, his cock in his hand as a low sigh escaped his red lips to the filthy words being muttered on screen.

❝ "You're such a fucking slut for me aren't you?" He said to nobody in particular, but you knew it was you in his mind. You cleared your throat, breaking him out of his trance, but he didn't care enough to cover up , instead letting out a humorless chuckle.

❝ "Aren't you naughty? If you wanted watch, you could've asked sweetheart~", he said, turning over, giving you a better view as your lips watered, you were about to bend over, moving your lips to his head, wanting to lick at the precum coating it but he tutted.

❝ "No touching whore," he said before instructing you to sit back, "It's a bit unfair how you get to see me hot and bothered, but I don't, isn't it? Maybe you can help me out here and play with your pretty self," he suggested and you could no longer ignore the wetness between your thighs as you peeled off your panties.

❝ He let out a moan at the sight, his hand moving faster as you started touching yourself too. It didn't take long before both of you came, trying to chase your own high, you didn't notice when he came mere inches from your face, kissing you gently, pushing your body back onto the bed.

❝ "I need to be inside you right now," he said, his breathing still heavy as you nodded, letting him, it didn't take him long to slip into you, your wetness being enough to let him in without much restriction. The two of you sighed in unison, as he held you close to him, just wanting to go back to bed with the feeling of you around him.

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jamdoughnutmagician · 1 year

Text

Young Dumb Thrills

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary:One things leads to another after Eddie confesses something to you on your Friday night movie nights. (Sorry I suck at summaries!)

Warnings:Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Smut, Confessions of Love, Making Out, Pet Names (perhaps an overuse of Eddie calling the reader “Sugar” but Eddie is a “Sugar” kind of guy and I will die on this hill), Grinding, Nipple Play, Oral (F receiving), VERY BRIEF Sub!Eddie (like mentioned in ONE sentence) Unprotected Sex, Cowgirl Position, Hand-jobs. Slight spoilers for 80s Star Wars movies (but nothing that nobody didn't know already

Word Count:2,706

Author's Note:I think my horny brain took over when I wrote this tbh, so if there’s any mistakes which I hope there isn’t then that’ll be why. Also I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to name this fic after a McFly song (it came up in my playlist whilst I was writing it and I just felt like it fit)

At the knock on his trailer door, Eddie rushed up from his seat to open the door. He opened it to greet the familiar face that he knew would be waiting for him behind it. It was a Friday night, and that meant only one thing. Friday night was movie night with his best friend. It was a tradition that they started years ago, and Eddie looked forward to spending his evenings eating trashy snack foods and laughing at the bad movies with his closest friend.

Eddie had known you from when you were both kids, and you had moved to Hawkins. You lived a few trailers down from him and being the only other kid his age in that trailer park, you two had become fast and firm friends.

The other reason why Eddie looked forward to your shared movie nights, was something of a secret, and one that he kept to himself, and had done for years.

Eddie had a huge crush on you. You were always very sweet and kind to him. Made him laugh until he was crying, and were always there for him through those rough patches, where the loneliness would seep in whilst his uncle would work long night shifts at the plant.

Not to mention he also found you crazy attractive, with gorgeous eyes, and a warm smile it was very easy for him to fall in love with you.

“Hey! Come on in!” Eddie welcomed you warmly into the trailer.

“So I swung by Family Video! I picked out ‘Raiders of The Lost Ark’, since I know you missed it when it was in the cinema and wanted to watch it!” you wiggled the video cassette in your hand excitedly, whilst your other hand hid behind your back “and then I figured, why not make tonight a double feature? So I also picked out ‘Temple of Doom’” you beamed as you showed him the other cassette in your other hand.

“Awesome! Tell you what, I’ll go make a start on the popcorn, and you go set up the video! I trust coca-cola is still your drink of choice, m’lady?” he throws over his shoulder as he makes his way to the small kitchen to put the popcorn in the microwave.

“It very much is still my drink of choice, my good sir” you reply with a chuckle

_____________________

It wasn't unusual for you two to get close to each other on movie nights, more often than not you would end up with your head resting on Eddie's shoulder. He liked to joke how you had probably never seen the ending of any movie you’ve watched with him. The best was when you had, unsurprisingly fallen asleep on him during your first watch of ‘Return of The Jedi’ and thus followed what Eddie had dubbed ‘The Great Luke and Leia Sibling Reveal of ‘83’ where the credits rolled on the vhs during your Star Wars marathon, he got to tell you all about how that scrawny kid that kissed the space princess in ‘Empire Strikes Back’ were actually brother and sister.

Still to this day, you didn’t believe him. Thinking this was some kind of long-running joke that he was keeping up.

With you sitting so comfortably next to him, Eddie’s body was tense, he was usually good at keeping his feelings for you under control, but there was something about the intoxicating smell of your shampoo invading his senses and just you being as cute as always that had the butterflies in his stomach fluttering like mad.

You could sense that Eddie had gone quiet, and didn’t seem like his usual joking self, making silly remarks on the film just to make you laugh. Pausing the film, you turned your eyes to him.

“Hey Ed, you okay?” you looked up at him, your eyes connecting with his big brown ones.

“Y-yeah, I-I’m alright..” he stumbles, not trusting his own voice to give him away.

“Are you sure? You seem awfully flush? Is it too warm in here? I can open a window for you if you like?” Damnit, Eddie thinks to himself, it wasn’t his voice that was giving him away, but rather the increasing heat of blush taking over his face.

“N-No it’s okay, sweetheart. I just…” Eddie trails off. Why was he just about to admit to his embarrassingly large crush on you? Perhaps he was more comfortable with you than even he realised?

“You just what?” you pressed, setting your hand on top of his.

Huffing out a sigh, he couldn’t believe he was doing this.

“I just..look…I’m going to tell you something, something real big, okay? But you have to promise me that you won’t laugh at me or anything okay?”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I like you, y/n” Eddie confesses.

“Yeah I like you too, Ed!” you beam back at him with a smile.

“No, I like like you, have done for a while too if i’m being completely honest” he insists.

“Yeah, me too!” your smile taking over your face.

“No, I mean I like you more than a friend..” he tells you. This was a big step for Eddie. Giving you his heart and trusting you enough to handle it with care and not break it.

“Eddie..” you started. “I like you too, perhaps more than I should as a friend. I've been wanting to say something for the longest time, I just never knew how to tell you” you confessed to him.

“Wait..wait..hold on. You’re telling me that you’ve got a crush on me? On me?”

“Yeah I mean, how could I not? You’re just so adorable when you talk to me about your Hellfire campaigns, even though I know you know I don’t know anything about D&D. When you secretly learned ‘Material Girl’ on the guitar for my birthday that one year, even though it’s not “technically a guitar song” as you told me afterwards”

“Yeah, I remember Wayne would come home to me playing that song over and over to make sure I got it just right, I think he thought I was going crazy. Laughing at me saying how “he didn’t have me down as a Madonna fan.” Oh but it was worth it though, I mean the look on your face when I played it for you? It warmed my heart, Sugar”

“Sugar? Are we doing pet names already, Munson?” you gently teased.

“Well I..U-uh I guess it kind of slipped out" Eddie shyly admitted to you.

"Hey, I'm not mad at it, I actually kind of liked it, never been anyone's 'Sugar' before!'

'There's been something I wanna do for the longest time, and since I know now that we're on the same page, I just have to ask. Can I kiss you?" Eddie says, despite your confession of mutual admiration he's still unsure of himself.

Swinging your legs over his body, you settle yourself down to sit on his lap. Making yourself comfortable, you place both your hands on either side of his face.

You feel his larger ring-adorned hands settle themselves on your hips.

“Eddie, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that for ages” you say as you lean to tentatively place your lips against his.

He takes the hint to deepen this kiss, his warm plush lips parting to slip his tongue between your lips, in a desperate, long-awaited kiss.

However, now, with you sitting so prettily in his lap, kissing him like you needed it to survive, your hips are gently rolling themselves against his increasingly hardening length.

Reluctantly Eddie pulls away from you, your lips connected by a string of saliva.

“Sugar..Sugar, you gotta stop or this is all gonna be over a lot faster than you, and certainly I want it to be” he chuckles with a cheeky grin.

“How about we make things interesting then?” you say, feeling a sudden burst of confidence. Gripping your t-shirt at the bottom in twisted arms, you pull upwards to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in your lace bra.

Eddie can hardly believe what’s unfolding before his eyes. The girl of his dreams, is sitting in his lap, scantily clad in her delicate lace bra and looking into his eyes with adoration. Sliding his hands upwards from where they were resting on your hips, his hands settled over your back, the clasp of your bra under his fingers. His brown eyes looking at you in a question.

“May I?” he questions, toying with your bra clasp.

“You may.” you nod.

That simple nod was all that Eddie needed to go ahead, popping the clasp of your bra with a quick flick of his guitarists fingers. He takes the straps off your shoulders and flings your bra to the corner of his room, she won’t be needing that, not if I can help it, he thinks to himself.

She’s beautiful, Eddie thinks. He already thought you were beautiful before, but now he’s looking at you, kiss-bitten lips and your naked chest heaving with anticipated breaths, and he thinks that you have never looked more stunning than you do in this moment.

He leans his head towards your breasts, letting his lips kiss over your tits, nipping a few hickeys here and there, before his mouth latches on to one of your nipples, sucking it into a hardened peak, and using his fingers to pluck and tease the other nipple.

The feel of Eddie’s soft lips leaving a trail of hot kisses over your breasts left you desperately whining and grinding into his lap even more, you needed more from him.

“Eddie…” you whined “Please...I need you..”

“Well who am I to deny such a sweet request” he said as turned around with you in his arms, settling you down amongst the pillows on his bed.

Caging you underneath his arms as he held himself up above you, his dark curls falling like curtains in front of his eyes.

“Wait..wait a minute” you say, slipping your hair tie off your wrist with a slight giggle, gathering his hair in a little bundle at the nape of his neck “There! That’s much better! Now I can see your handsome face!” you finish, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

Now with his vision unimpaired by his long mane of hair, his lips begin their descent down your body, Laying kisses on every patch of skin he could find. Stopping at the waistband of your jeans, kissing just below your navel, before popping the button of your jeans and hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them both down the length of your legs.

“Well, now that’s out of the way..let me do something that I’ve only ever dreamed of doing.” he smirks.

“Dreamed of?” you question. “My my, Ed how many times have you fantasised about me before?” you press again.

“Oh Sugar, you have no idea how many times I’ve lied where you’re lying right now, with my hand wrapped around my dick, just thinking about how pretty you would look cumming all over my tongue”

“Well then don’t let me be the one to stop you from following your dreams, Munson” you giggled.

Eddie leaned his head down until he was face to face with your pussy, his tongue sneaks it's way out to wet his lips before going in to lick a long swipe from the very bottom of your wet slit to the top, the tip of his tongue flicking over your clit with little kitten licks. He swirled his tongue around your pussy a few times, the lewd slurping sounds echoing off his bedroom walls. Eddie slips his middle and ring fingers into the tight wet heat of your pussy, curling them upwards to press against that spot deep inside you that has your eyes screwing shut in pleasure. His other hand is placed firmly on your soft stomach, pressing down with a gentle pressure, his clunky metal rings a welcomed chilling sensation against the heat of your skin.

“Come on, Sugar…I can feel this pretty pussy clenching on my fingers..” Eddie mumbles against you, just as he seals his lips around your clit, sucking it into the warm heat of his mouth.

“That’s it baby…you’re so beautiful…fuck..”

Continuing with his ministrations, it wasn’t long before you were coming around his fingers, with a moaning gasp. He delivers soft little kitten licks to your clit, as you come down from the high of your orgasm.

“I don’t know why we waited so long before doing that” you chuckle, as you try to catch your breath.

“Neither do I, but certainly want to do that again”

“There’ll be plenty of opportunities for that another time, right now I just want to ride you”

He Throws off his Judas Priest t-shirt and tugs his sweatpants down and tosses to some corner of his room, eager to feel you on top of him.

You take this opportunity to appreciate him in his full, naked glory, his tattoos like intricate artworks on the gallery that is his body.

“Get yourself comfortable on that bed, Munson.” you say, your eyes sparkling with desire.

“Yes Ma’am, don’t need to tell me twice”

“Good boy.”

The heat on his cheeks rose, blushing further down his chest. Oh. He liked being called your good boy. You’d have to remember that.

Settling your body over his, you lick your tongue over your palm, before reaching behind you to stroke his cock a few times. Rising up on your thighs you slip the leaking tip of his cock inside you, and begin to slowly lower yourself over him inch by inch until he’s settled deep inside you.

Placing both your hands down over his torso to steady yourself, you start to roll your hips, quickly falling into a steady rhythm that had both of you moaning. The creaking sounds of his bed fall into the background as you enjoy each other's bodies. His hips thrusting up to meet your hips grinding into his.

His hands find their place, gripping your hips.

“Fuck..Sugar..You look so sexy like this..Making me feel..fuck..feel so good.” he groans out.

One of his hands slips from its place on your hips, fingers finding their way to clit to rub deliberate circles.

“Eddie…” you cried out, the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening with each of his thrusts up into you. “Please..don’t stop..I’m so close..” you desperately whine.

It didn’t take much more than a few more rolls of your hips, and Eddie’s skilled fingers on your clit before you were coming around his dick with silent scream. Slowing down your movements as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

What you hadn’t accounted for was that in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten to use any protection, and Eddie was warning you that he was quickly approaching his end, a consequence of your walls constricting around him.

“You gotta get off me, Sweets..I don’t think we’re quite ready to be parents yet..” he huffs, the few strands that have come loose from his bun sticking to his sweaty forehead.

Leaning forward you let his cock slip from your entrance, and reach back behind yourself to work him through the end of his orgasm with your hands. Twisting your closed fist over his sensitive head. That’s all it took for Eddie to spill rope after rope of his release all over your hand. His cum splattering his lower stomach and dribbling down your fingers.

Whilst he recovers and catches his breath below you, you take the opportunity to clean up your fingers, swiping your tongue over your digits, tasting his cum from where he had spilled in your hand.

“Fuck...Sugar..You can’t just do that. You’ll get me going again.” he chuckles breathlessly.

“Don’t worry about that, we’ve still got to make up for lost time.” you say leaning forward on his chest to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. “..And I plan on making every second count.”

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x Female Reader #Eddie Munson X Reader Smut #eddie munson smut #eddie muson x reader fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #Eddie Munson imagines #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #Stranger Things

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thesupreme316 · 3 months

Note

I have had this stuck with me for a time now, wording this sucked.

So most/all AEW and WWE stars have taunts, iconic finishers, and submissions so I was thinking what if the reader used one of them ( Kenny’s V-trigger, HOOK’s redrum. Things like these) and their reaction to the move/taunt.

You can pick anyone and the number of people

AEW STARS REACT TO: You Doing Their Signature Move/Taunt

Pairings: Samoa Joe x Reader, Kenny Omega x Reader, Hook x Reader, Daniel Garcia x Reader, Dante Martin x Reader

Word Count: 728

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, sorry ive been MIA. School started and I've been student teaching, but also I'm starting to kind of lose motivation for this. but imma keep pushing through because damn it yall deserve it. but my inbox and messages are always open. please remember that you are loved, appreciated, and cherished.

Warnings: none i think. barely proofread this tbh

Taglist: @hookerforhook @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @kat04ie @batzy-watzy @cassie0sstuff

Backstory:

You are a very private person

You rarely discuss or even reference your friendships (or relationships)

But today?

You were feeling cocky and wanted to put it out on display

So during your match, while you looked at the crowd

And without another second going by….

You did the number one thing that your best friend (or significant other) was famous for

Something that was instantly recognizable

Making the crowd go wild

And the person you’re referencing grin from ear to ear

Kenny Omega

Get better king

Proud is an understatement

MOTHAFUCKA IS PRIDEFUL

Especially with how he’s out of action rn

He’s happy that that someone is keeping his memory present in the wrestling world

As soon as you hit the V-Trigger

A smile is on his face and his jumping up and down in his seat

Will not have any critiques for you

I think you would be the only person he gives blessing to full on adopt it

Especially after he see how’s the audience reacts to you doing it

Puts up instagram and twitter posts stating how proud and amazed he is of you

Will not hesitant to put those marks and trolls in their place

Hook

The smirk on his face would widened at what he was watching

He was so proud of you doing his submission the Redrum

Wouldn’t run wild or anything but anyone can see that he is so happy that you used his move

He would tease you as you come backstage

“Personally, you could have squeezed harder”

Will post about it with no captions

I find him wanting to do a tag match where both of you can do it at the same time

Get ready for Hook to do your move and or taunt in the next singles match he’s in

Just as a little nod or hint of acknowledgement

But be careful cause he’s competitive and wants to see who can do it better

Dante Martin

REMEMBER THAT SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT HE USED TO DO ALL THE TIME

Yeah you do it

People were even amazed that you can move like that

Cause you don’t like flying

When he sees it, he immediately geeks out

“DID YOU SEE IT? HUH? THEY’RE AMAZING!”

I think he would spam on his instagram stories with videos of you doing and people’s reactions

The same night he would do your finisher to end the match

Would def tease you about it as if he was not running around screaming OMG

“Tbh, I had more height to my moonsault”

Daniel Garcia

THE DANCE

OMG THE DANCE

He is grinning ear to ear as he hears the crowd grow in cheers and excitement

Cause tbh you saw it as an idiotic move

But it makes him happy to know that he has your blessing

Would make you film a Tik Tok or reel with him while doing it

Tbh I can see him with a t-shirt of you doing it

Will now brag to his friends and ask you to “do the thing” like a proud person

Tbh will get jealous when fans say that you do it better than him

Then he forbids you from doing it

“I can’t have the student surpassing the teacher”

Samoa Joe

Once he sees you do the Muscle Buster once, he smirks but he acts like’s not proud

“Well, that was great for an amateur…”

Gives you tips about how to make it more impactful

Makes you join forces with him (almost think Athena and Billie Starks)

“Now you are ready to be a cold blooded killer…*looks at you skipping down the hall*…after some more sessions”

After you master the Muscle Buster, he makes you practice the Coquina Clutch

Once you master both, he’ll say that you are now ready for the dark side

Hates how you seem to do his finishers more seamlessly

OOOO

DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU DO THE WALK AWAY SPOT

THAT IS STRICTLY OFF LIMITS

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagines #daniel garcia #daniel garcia x reader #aew hook #aew hook imagine #aew hook x reader #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega #samoa joe #samoa joe imagine #samoa joe x reader #aew dante martin #dante martin imagine #dante martin x reader

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aclowntiny · 8 months

Note

woo congrats for the 700 followers babe (i hope you don't mind me calling you that!!) i was wondering a reaction of any group that comes to your mind about y/n kissing them and then running away maybe cause they're shy or being playful idkk!! that's the first thing that came to my mind

Of course not babe 😘😆 this is such a cute idea!!! I like this idea for multiple groups tbh but I’ll start with Ateez of course hehe~ Hope this is what you meant!

Ateez When Their Crush Kisses Them and Runs Away

Hongjoong

“I really like this one. Here, listen.” Hongjoong placed the set of headphones in his hands gently over your ears, the rustling sound tickling them before the click of the play button.

Music filled your ears, upbeat sound enveloping you as if you were surrounded. It brought a smile to your face and motion to your head, the joyful bob mirrored in amusement by Hongjoong. He shook his head fondly, watching with interest at your response to the song. You felt shy suddenly, head falling to no longer meet his intense eyes.

When the song ended, you removed the headphones, setting them carefully upon the desk’s slick surface. “Let’s listen to the next one together,” you suggested quietly, still a bit flustered from the way Hongjoong stared at you. Sure, you’d liked him for some time, but you hadn’t gotten that many signs before he looked at you like that, and suddenly you didn’t know how to act.

“I have the perfect one up next,” he agrees with a nod, unplugging the cord of the on-ears and queuing up the following song on the computer.

Upbeat music faded in favor of something soft and glittery, something that almost would’ve been like ASMR had you still listened in surround. The words started, and you could tell it was a love song. The perfect song, huh? What did he mean by that?

Hongjoong’s face was illuminated purple by the room’s LEDs, all his piercings shining lavender and even the deep brown, almost black, of his eyes getting tinted. His gaze was once again fixed firmly upon you as the desperate lyrics swam through the room, and it sent lightning through you.

As if yanked forward by a puppet string you closed the gap between your seated figures, capturing his lips against yours. It was hard to tell if he was responding, though, your brain working despite the soft warmth sending you spiraling. Your chest sunk. Maybe you’d been wrong. Oh, no.

You had to leave. With one final glance at Hongjoong’s deer-in-the-headlights face, you rose from your seat’s padding, feeling it roll away at the sudden push.

"(y/n), wait!"

Gritting your teeth, you swung back around at Hongjoong's bidding, seeing him half-standing with a hand out.

"I'm really sorry I froze up, I'd been planning to make a move at the end of the song for so long, that completely threw me." His look of worry rose into a smile. "In a good way. Can we try again?"

All you could do was nod, prompting him to stand all the way, glancing down and taking your waist when he received a nod from you before pressing his lips to yours, music still swirling around your heads.

Seonghwa

Everything you did was adorable.

You swayed your hips lightly to the music on Seonghwa's speaker as you cracked another egg into a bowl. You two were baking together, a simple, domestic activity that had Seonghwa's heart full. He could barely focus on his dry measurements, his mind full of you, you, you. What could he say? He was head over heels.

You passed by each other in sync, with you grabbing the milk and him the salt before returning to your respective mixing. Maybe he should try and make things more romantic.

When you beckoned him to bring the dry bowl over, he acquiesced immediately, proverbial light bulb going off above his head. "Alright, let's mix together."

You smiled that gorgeous smile. "Sounds great."

Standing behind you, Seonghwa took a hold of your hand, gaze falling shyly from your smile as you turned back toward the bowl, his hand guiding yours in swirls as you gradually added his half of the mixture to yours. Far too soon in Seonghwa's mind, though, the batter started to look incorporated.

"Does that look..." You turned, inadvertently pressing closer to him as you peered innocently into his eyes, face inches from his as the last part of your sentence came out quieter. "...good?"

Seonghwa's lips parted, but before any reply could leave them yours were pressed sweetly against them. His eyelashes fluttered and his chest soared, but a mere second later you were pulling back away, sinking down against the counter on bent knees.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me! That just looked like a movie scene, and- and I-"

Bending down to eye level with you, Seonghwa nodded encouragingly. "Don't worry, I felt it too. Do you want to do it again or is that just me?"

Yunho

From the peripheries of your vision, you saw Yunho tugging at the thick blue blindfold around his eyes. "No peeking," you chastised.

"All right, but how far do I have to go for the center?" Yunho responded, one hand tightly holding yours.

"Just a few more steps," you replied, tugging him a bit further, "in fact, I think that's good. Everyone ready?"

The rest of the group called out affirmatives, spreading for the game of blind man's bluff. Yunho was 'it', the one who would grope along after you all as you darted away from his hands.

Of course, that's how it should have gone, but Ateez was no normal group. Jongho had climbed onto the table and Yeosang was under a chair. The rest kept running up to tease him with actions ranging from speaking right into his ear and running off to slapping his butt. And that gave you a great idea. Well, not the butt thing. Not yet at least...

You'd wanted to make a move for some time now. You and Yunho were always so playful with each other, joining in on each other's antics and having giggly slappy fights you couldn't help but see as breaks to the touch barrier. So what better opportunity to push your luck than when the man was blindfolded?

Running up at his side, you stood on your tiptoes and crashed your lips against his, smiling even as he jumped back a bit, startled. It took everything you had to suppress laughter, but his next words helped.

"That better have been (y/n)," Yunho remarked, head tilted.

"Who else would have done that?" You shot back. too incredulous to overthink if you were about to be rejected.

"I dunno," he shrugged, still blindfolded, "Wooyoung or something?"

"Does he ever-"

"No!" Yunho cut you off, nose wrinkling beneath the fabric across its bridge. "Gross! And he knows I like you! Which I can say now given my optimistic assumption my feelings are requited."

"Yes," you stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder and moving your face inches from his, "yes, they are."

"Good!" He exclaimed, grinning. "But also..." His hands snaked tightly around your middle, lifting you off the ground. "I got you! You're it now!"

Yeosang

“Here we go- one for you and one for me.” With a bright smile, Yeosang handed you one of the ice cream cones in his hands.

It was a beautiful day, the perfect day to take a walk, and of course it didn't take much persuasion to get Yeosang over to the ice cream stand with you. Having time together like this was rare, so you wanted to milk it for all it was worth, drawing out what could be a simple wend through the park with the man who gave you butterflies.

Butterflies indeed, you thought as he dug happily into his ice cream like an eager little boy, continuing his description of the last book he'd read.

"But was it sad though? I don't want to read it if it's really sad."

"No way! The ending was perfect in my opinion. The characters went through everything they needed to." Another smile into the sunshine. Another bite of ice cream.

That time, though, the cone cracked and a little bit of the sweet dessert dribbled onto his lip, which stuck out in a little pout. Yeosang looked so cute, your brain blanked. Complete zero thoughts, head empty, just Yeosang. Without you even realizing it, your lips had fallen onto his, kissing the ice cream off of them.

It wasn't until the butterflies buzzed again, begging you to let yourself get even more carried away, that you even realized what you'd done, backing away immediately with wide eyes.

"I'm so sorry," you gasped, turning and walking away, butterflies now stabbing into your fluttering heart with shock and shame.

"D-do you like me?" You heard Yeosang's voice at your back, but you couldn't bear facing him again, just nodding your burning head, eyes squeezed shut and ice-cream-free hand covering half your face.

His hand on your shoulder almost made you jump. "Why are you getting shy now, huh? You're so cute."

Your hand shot up all the way, burying your whole face. He thought you were cute?

"How can I see your face again? Do I have to kiss you, too? Alright, gladly," Yeosang whispered, kissing your cheek.

San

San felt lucky that day- you two were at the arcade together. He'd liked you for a few months now, but couldn't tell how you felt. Making a move felt too risky. What were the odds you felt the same? Probably not great, especially since you were friends with all of Ateez. You easily could have liked another member, but no matter what San was eternally grateful for your friendship, the easy feeling he got when he was with you. Even though his heart raced every time you smiled, it was never stressful when you talked. You'd made it clear that he could talk to you about anything and even confided in him, too, which just proved it.

It was healing to see you so happy and excited, practically yanking him over to every game you wanted to play. You’d already kicked his butt at whack-a-mole, though his victory at the shooting gallery was clear. None of it was about winning, though. Not for him.

That was until the pair of you stumbled upon the claw machine, your eyes sparkling with excitement and lips curling widely upward in joy. Two little squishmallows of your favorite animal sat amongst the cuddly rainbow of prize options, and anyone with eyes could see it was love at first sight. San would have given anything to get you that plushie, even every last game credit he had.

“Your wish is my command,” he remarked dashingly as he swiped the play card, lighting up the crane’s lining.

“Oh, San, these things are usually rigged, though. I don’t want you to run out of play over it!”

“Then I’ll just have to win it right away, huh?” He shot back with a dimpled grin, deftly angling the gripper over your beloved squishmallow. Pressing the button, he sent it down, plucking the adorable round plushie up…

…and back down, this time considerably closer to the prize depot. Fire blazed in San’s eyes as he swiped his card again. He heard you giggle at his intense expression as he leaned closer to the smudged glass of the claw machine as if trying to become one with the mechanics of it. He twitched the claw back and forth a bit, then with a nod of satisfaction sent it back down, securing your prize and dropping it right through the plastic square trap door of victory.

You leapt for joy, giving that smile that made his heart leap as you reached through the prize door and cuddled your gift to your chest, repeating thanks to San again and again.

He smiled, opening his mouth to day you’re welcome, but was cut off by your lips on his. He froze, every thought and command flying out if his brain until he saw you flush and step back, uncertainty written all over your face as you still held your prize.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shaking your head, “I just got excited. But I really appreciate-”

“No, no, wait!” Waving his hands, San panicked, words falling clumsily from his lips. “I’m sorry, that was so terrible, I’ve liked you forever so I just got really nervous! Kind of ruined that, didn’t I?”

Your lips parted again in shock, several heartbeats passing before you smiled and shook your head. “It’s like the claw machine, right? Practice makes perfect. I like you, too, San. Well, obviously,” you giggled, and just like that San’s heart picked up again despite that feeling of comfort and rightness returning.

Looks like you guys had both won the jackpot that day.

Mingi

“Give it back!"

Mingi had snatched your phone, which you’d made the mistake of leaving lying flat atop the coffee table in his shared apartment, and ran with it, leaning into the boon of his long legs. He turned back even as he legged it, giving you a wide, boyish smile before sticking his tongue out.

“Come get it,” he giggled in response, breathy from the clear exertion of how hard he sprinted, tearing tightly around a corner.

Smirking, you turned on your heels, running back the other way to cut him off. The look on his face was priceless as you emerged into the room he barreled towards simultaneously, facing one another. His jaw dropped and hands waved, but your triumph didn’t end, not even when you collided, toppling to the floor.

Heat rushed to your face. You had a crush on Mingi, and though you didn’t know if it was returned, the tension of the day’s flirting welled up in your chest, spilling over as you leaned in from your position on top of him, connecting your lips.

The moment you parted, though, you saw how wide his eyes were and panicked, feeling like you’d overstepped. Scrambling off of him, you made to leave, muttering an apology, but his hand closed around your wrist gently. His strength was still enough to stop you in your tracks without yanking you back over.

“Where are you going?” He smiled at you, stars in his eyes. “I need to kiss you back, right?”

Wooyoung

Prey in sight. Target locked.

Wooyoung was the victim of many prank attempts by you, the latest one being sliding up behind him and stealing his phone. Creeping up toward him, you rose up on your bent knees, hand sliding slowly toward the piece of technology in his hand. His hand that immediately reached behind him and slapped yours out of the way.

"Ha! Caught you again!"

"No fair," you pouted, "how did you even see me?"

"I know your M.O.," Wooyoung countered, smiling triumphantly and then sticking his tongue out at you, "there's nothing you can do that surprises me."

Frustration of multiple kinds ballooned in your chest as he smirked at you, challenge glinting in his eyes. You would do anything, anything, to wipe that look off of Jung "Smug" Wooyoung's face. You know what? Great idea, you realized.

"Oh yeah?" You challenged, stepping closer.

"Yeah," he dug his heels in, crossing his arms.

You stood up straight, lunging forward and crashing your lips against his. It was your turn to smirk into the kiss as he returned it immediately, almost desperately. Well, shoot. Guess all that flirting he'd done had been for real. Good to know.

Right as Wooyoung started picking up the pace, though, you separated again, running back down the hall you'd initially snuck down.

"Hey!" He protested.

"Guess I did surprise you after all, huh?" You fired back as you ran, turning to see with great satisfaction that Wooyoung was chasing you. No way he was going to let you get away with that.

Jongho

You didn’t realize it at the time, but you were dreaming. One of the best dreams you’d ever had, you would later reflect.

Choi Jongho, the handsome, stoic, effortlessly funny man you’d fallen head over heels for, had just confessed to you, pulling you into a kiss that had your head spinning harder than any prior fantasy had. The dream was vivid, too, full of sight and sound and sensation so much that it pushed you a bit past perception of reality.

So, when a hand upon your shoulders gently shook you awake, a voice you recognized even in half-sleep as Jongho whispering your name, you responded how you thought was in kind.

By leaning in and pressing your lips to his. Sleep left you further as he hummed in confusion, pulling away and repeating your name, this time questioning, inquisitive, faintly scandalized. Some of the added gravity to his voice had your half-lidded eyes fluttering further open, veil lifted as you blinked at Jongho’s wide eyes, pursed lips, and red ears.

What had you done? Every neuron in your brain called out for you to flee, bury away your shame and scandal forever. Each muscle in your body agreed, but had trouble following suit as you clumsily wrestled with the blanket that had been draped over you upon the couch, fabric catching your feet until you flung it to the floor, pushing up to a seated position and up, swaying to run away.

“Whoa, whoa!” Jongho held out a protective hand. “You just surprised me is all. Let’s talk about this, what happened?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, unable to look him in the eye, “I was having a stupid dream. That’s all.”

“Is that what you call stupid?” Jongho asked, tone still even as always, but colored with the faintest hint of incredulity. “I would call something like that a very good dream.”

Your eyebrows shot up, gaze returning to his. “You would?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, “felt pretty good to me. But I suppose it wasn’t me in the dream, was it?”

Your chest ballooned at the actual palpable disappointment you saw in his face, heard in his voice. You…actually had a shot here?

“Ok, so you’re not gonna believe this-”

Not exactly the most romantic start to your next kiss, but hey, it sure did the trick.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seongwha #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #gender neutral reader #fluff #requested #jacobbaeluvr #moots 💕

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nebbyy · 9 days

Text

King Baldwin IV x reader - I’ll be waiting for you

A/N: Well, how could I not make another fic for King Baldwin when the other one I made is my most liked post yet, so I decided to write this little pieceee. Sooo I guess I should warn y'all that this one will be a little less historically accurate (not that the first one was that great of a historical piece but you get the idea). Oh and as usual, this fic came into my mind the moment I saw the painting just below (which is "the Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets Over the Dead Bodies of Romeo andJuliet" by sir Frederic Leighton)Now enough chatting, more King Baldwin brainrot.

Summary: in a desperate attempt to protect his kingdom after having punished Reynald de Chatillon, the king is exhausted and the long ride has increasingly worsened his already wary condition. Once he’s escorted back to the palace, his loving wife wastes no time to reunite with her beloved husband.

Warnings: kinda angsty (no happy ending tbh), vague descriptions of Baldwin’s illness related wounds. Also, reader specifically described as female.

Word count: 3209

You sat on your throne, high and proud like the royalty you were. But under the facade of your noble confidence, you felt small. Smaller than ever, actually, as the yelling of all the men in front of you filled the air and rose up to the open sky. With a simple, reckless act, Reynald de Chatillon and Guy de Lusignan had just screwed years of efforts that King Baldwin had spent trying to maintain that delicate peace that required so many lives and time to build. All washed away from the raging river that were Reynald and Guy.

While the two men tried to defend their senseless attack, backed by a substantial group of men, another opposing group shouted at them, berating them for the offense they had given not only to Saladin but also to Jerusalem itself.

You sigh, fighting the urge to cover your ears, and curl into your own body; you opt to just turn your head and look at your beloved husband. He looked to be in a similar state as you were: although his face was now fully covered -a means of hiding the decaying state of his leprosy-ridden body- his head was bent with weary alertness, like a hawk watching its prey from a distance. You watched his body, languidly seated on his much larger throne, the only sitting position that brought him no discomfort, though it looked almost more like he was about to lie down.

It broke your heart to see how that disease had ravaged Baldwin's body, in recent years more and more. To see him there, on the same throne on which he once sat tall and proud, while now he barely had the strength to stay upright. And you knew he was thinking the very same thing.

You were about to open your mouth, whisper something to him, anything, in order to shake him out of his thoughts and that chaotic situation, but you were interrupted in your actions by an official, who rushed to the king's side, handing him a scroll. His bandaged hands clumsily opened the scroll, and you found salvation from the noise of the room by concentrating on watching Baldwin read carefully. You watched his eyes, blue as the sky and like the waves of the sea that brought you to the Holy Land, now covered with a pale glassy glaze.

You frowned when you heard Baldwin freeze in place, even his sitting became more erect, as if a cube of ice had slid down his back. With his gaze still fixed on the words written in that letter, he merely raised his hand slightly, a clear sign of his will.

"SILENCE!" his guard's shout resounded through the hall, overpowering the furious shouts of the men who had been barking at each other for hours now. They all turned to look at the king; their faces, a few moments ago darkened and wrinkled with anger, were now smooth and relaxed, their eyebrows raised in astonishment at their king's order. Funny, you thought, how these men because of your husband's condition sometimes simply forget how much power he possessed over them. Before it was as if he wasn't even in the room, and they were all playing at being great leaders, now there they were, staring at him, motionless as statues, submissive as ants. You curled your nose discreetly, your face a mixture of disgust and contempt. Pathetic, you thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, Baldwin finally looked up at the crowd in front of him, finally revealing what it was that had shocked him so much. "Saladin has crossed the Jordan with 200000 men," silence fell, and you felt your body going numb. Your ears seemed muffled, you could barely perceive what was happening around you. At that moment you felt so much fear for your kingdom, and concern for Baldwin and what this impending attack would cost him.

And anger, against those two fools who out of sheer vanity had endangered the lives of all the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They had put Jerusalem itself at risk; they had put Baldwin at risk.

I was brought to attention by Baldwin, who was struggling to pull himself up from his throne, walking toward his most trusted man. "We must meet him before he reaches Kerak. I will lead the army," your husband's voice was hushed and soft, so that only the man in front of him could hear. But it did not escape your ears, the implication those words had: Baldwin wants to stop Saladin, and he wants to do it himself. But this could cost him his life.

You couldn't stop yourself; you jumped up from your seat, eyes wide in an expression somewhere between fear and surprise. Baldwin turned to look at you, the woman who always took his breath away at the mere sight of how beautiful she was. You did not fail to have that effect on him again this time, but not because of your beauty: in your eyes he saw your terror, that this was the last time you would see him alive. They hypnotized him, and begged him in a silent prayer not to leave, to give up this plan, have an ambassador sent, anyone else. Hell, let him send Guy himself to intercept the Saracen, let him be beheaded and his murder settle the account that he himself opened. But the storm of emotion in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotion flowing from your eyes

But the storm of emotions in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotions flowing from Baldwin's eyes, barely visible because of the cover concealing his tortured face. He too, through them, was silently pleading with you: but he was asking you to trust, to let go and follow his plan, to try to forget for at least a moment all the warnings the Physicians had given him over the years.

Eventually, you relented, turning your gaze away and opting to stare at a random spot in the corner of the room. Baldwin gave a silent sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, a sign of gratitude, although you could not see it. He turned to the men of his court, and with the little strength his body afforded him, he spoke in a loud, determined voice: "Assemble the army and protect the city."

All this reminded you of the last time Baldwin fought Saladin: he had barely completed his seventeenth year, and young and still full of life, he was ready to ride against the invincible Saracen king. But on that day God had been more merciful. He had granted you, if nothing else, one last night to spend with your husband, had given you the gift of a minimum of time to ensure that you bid Baldwin a proper farewell before he met what could well have been his end. Instead this time, you barely had time to briefly remove the thick veil from his face to give him a fleeting kiss and exchange a handful of words. You fought back the tears as you looked at him, opting instead to bring your hand to his cheek, the flesh of his lip having receded and decayed to such an extent that it had receded down to his cheek, eventually turning into a long scar that protruded down to his cheekbone.

"Let me go with you, I will wait for you at the castle of Reynald de Chatillon-" "No. It is too dangerous. If things go wrong with the negotiations, I don't want you or my sisters anywhere near that man." It was not often that Baldwin interrupted you while you were speaking. He respected you too much to not allow you to finish your sentences, so the fact that he did just now spoke of how important this was to him.

"Then promise me you’ll come back to me. Safe and sound." He snorted softly, giving a hint of smile before copping his face with his hardened hands, "You know I can’t promise it." You know that, but that blatant honesty of his, which you always loved so much, was not what you wanted at the time. No, you wanted reassurance, no matter how truthful, no matter how worthless his promises may be at the end of the day, You need that fleeting distraction that mitigates the fear that’s been eating you from the inside since Baldwin put on his armor. May you risked never seeing him again.

"Please just say it." Your voice came out much softer than you meant, almost less than a whisper, perhaps because of the knot in your throat, which threatened to break free carrying a river of tears. For a moment he remained silent, turning suddenly his face towards the voice of a nobleman who called him from the entrance of his room, but did not even dignify him with an answer. After all, his attention was completely turned to his world. To you. Before I answered you, I drew your head to his with my hands, so that I could place his forehead against yours. Finally, he spoke softly, in that loving tone that he reserved only for you: "Then I promise you that I will return to you in no more than three days, and when I return I will be victorious, and I will be riding."

After that, that moment between the two of you, which so much looked like a heartbreaking farewell, lasted just before Baldwin had to go to his horse to guide his men to the enemy.

And it wasn’t long before the harsh reality became clear to you: he had lied to you. Not maliciously, of course, you were the one who begged him to say those words after all. But the fact is that three days became four, that news of the army of Jerusalem had not come any more, that the last thing you heard of your husband was that only the ride had already tried his weakened body.

Another day passed, then another, and at the dawn of the fourth day since his absence you felt your heart sink. Had something happened to him? Had the negotiations failed? What if his illness had suddenly got the better of him? Or worse, Saladin and his men had shot him, stabbed him, or yet again captured and publicly executed,…

Your mind began to spiral into an ocean of possible reasons behind this delay, and you swore that your breathing had finally stopped once and for all when a messenger on horseback arrived at the palace, frantically dismounting from his steed to rush into the throne room and bring you the message: "The negotiations were successful, but the king is in critical condition! He is returning to Jerusalem on a canopy," you dismissed the man with a slight wave of your hand, so weak that you almost looked numbed; Baldwin's advisors began to chatter, but the background murmur of their murmurs did not seem to reach your ears. No, your attention was elsewhere; it was entirely on your husband.

You took your leave of the court, hurrying to your rooms. There, like a hawk waiting impatiently for prey to feed on, you perched on the balcony overlooking the city below you, on the walls from which not many days ago Baldwin had emerged leading the army.

It was there that you began to think again, this time with a clearer mind as you knew that at least Baldwin was alive and on his way home. On his way to you. Still, this whole situation reminded you of when you were only sixteen years old, and you stood on that balcony as you do now, waiting to see Baldwin return on his horse. And on that day, when he was visible to the naked eye, and your eyes met, you saw all the life and strength of one who had just defeated the greatest enemy of his time. At that moment, he seemed almost immortal to you: he looked like a god riding proudly, leading the thousands of men behind him towards their home.

How unfair fate is, to cut short his life so early. His physicians gave him no more than thirty years, but that time seemed to you to be shortened even more when you finally caught sight of his canopy. There he lay, sprawled and motionless like a dead body, surrounded by the soft cushions and riders on either side of his transport.

Just two years ago such a journey would not have fatigued him in the least; now he was risking his life just by riding a horse. Your eyes threatened to fill with tears thinking about how much he had loved riding a horse, and now he found himself bedridden, unable in his passions. You wasted no time running through the palace corridors, eager to reach your beloved as soon as possible.

One turn to the right, then another, then down the steps, and finally straight to the palace doors, where the finely decorated canopy led the love of your life.

You rushed to his side, gently taking his mutilated hand in yours while the other stroked his masked face. He breathed faintly, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his strength after his disease had dealt him this last bludgeon. Feeling your gentle touch, Baldwin's eyes fluttered open, his glassy eyes the color of heaven meeting yours.

"You've been reckless, my love. Putting your life at risk just to do the job of a messenger!" you scolded him, but Baldwin only smiled fondly at your words. "I promised you I would've come back. And that I did, alive too." Although his voice was so weak that it sounded more like a huff of air rather than a sentence, its tone was still laced with playfulness.

It made you unable to resist the smile that was threatening to form on your lips; you did not grace him with an answer yet, opting instead to move your hand to remove the silver mask from his face. You could see his surprised and relieved expression, as he was now finally able to breathe more freely and to look at you properly. He breathed in the sight of you, almost as if trying to take in as much of you as he could. "I can't tell if it's the travel or the sight of you that takes my breath away."

You just smiled bitterly and shook your head at his silly declarations, "It must be the ride, it has tired you so much that it's making you speak nonsense." he giggled weakly, much more tiredly this time, almost as if he was about to doze off. But he fought the tiredness nonetheless, opting to just shake his head and admire you with a lovestruck look. "Maybe I am hallucinating, I think I'm seeing heaven above me."

It was supposed to be a compliment that would've made you giggle and blush, like the ones that he showered you with daily. But instead, it made your heart clench at the bare idea of it. The idea that this would be his last moments before the energies spent for this expedition would be too much for him to handle, and God will reclaim his most virtuous man. It made your throat tighten, and your lower lip tremble.

You tried to hide your troubled state, moving your hand quickly to the curve of his neck. There, you placed a soft, butterfly-like kiss on the little places of skin that haven't been mutilated and bloodied by the leprosy. You kissed him one more time, then another, and another again..

In the end, you lost count of how many kisses you had given him, in a desperate attempt to mend your premature grief, to ground yourself in the feeling that Baldwin is there. He is alive. Yet the feeling of his skin against yours, of his chest rising up and down and his arms weakly holding your soft body, it wasn't enough to stop the tears to start flowing down your cheeks.

And that didn't go unnoticed to Baldwin, who mustered all his strength left to hold you just a little tighter. "Have my words upset you?" you sniffled, trying to recollect yourself before lifting your head to look into his eyes. "No, my dear, you could never. I just-" you stopped for a second, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat, "promise me this is the last time. Please, tell me that you will stop this nonsense. Let your trusted men handle these matters, command your man like a king not a general!" your hands had moved to his arms, a gesture to both ground yourself and to accentuate just how desperate you were in that moment, only wanting him to just listen.

"I beg of you, my love, stay here. Where you can rest. We both know that you don't have much more time left to live, so stop doing everything in your power to shorten it anymore." A sob slipped from your mouth at the last part. It truly astonished you how careless he seemed about his own condition, almost as if he forgot that any move could be the death of him.

He frowned and sighed at your words, squeezing your forearms softly before he spoke softly. This time though his tone was clearer, less weakened by the outcomes of the past days. "I already spoke to the physician about this: I have no choice, my angel. I'll be bound to my bed until a miracle will better my condition, or until death will take me."

You shut your eyes in relief, resting your forehead against his and sighing shakily, trying to recompose yourself. "I can't live in a world without you.."

"God will give us more time. I promise I won't leave you as long as I breathe on this earth. And. when my time will be over and there will be no future for us in this life, I'll be waiting for you in heaven, if I'll be granted the blessing of a place next to you there."

Not too long after, the physicians that Saladin had promised him arrived at the palace, and you were assisted as they tended to Baldwin's many wounds caused by his sickness. More than the sight of the gruesome pieces of open flesh, what appalled you was just how numb his body had become, so much so that he did not even feel their hands and tools working into his skin. It made you wonder wether or not he even felt your kisses from before.

And you make yourself that same question months later, when you place one last kiss into his forehead as he slept soundly before going to bed yourself, only to wake up to a cold body beside you. You wonder if he ever got to feel that last gesture of love before God had finally claimed him.

You only found solace in the thought that Baldwin would be resting in the realms of heaven above your head, contrary to what the Saracens believe.

A/N: Wowww this gets more fun by the day!! King Baldwin will probably always be my favorite character to write for. He’s my muse. As always ill be waiting for your feedbacks!!!

Oh and also, be prepared in the future for more fics waiting to be posted, I’ve got about ten that are just waiting for the right time to come to light, and many more will come in the future since I’m really finding it therapeutic to write.

#writers on tumblr #angst #fluff #my fic #king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #reynald de chatillon #guy de lusignan #reader insert #f!reader #historical fiction #fanfic #x yn #x reader

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ughgoaway · 5 months

Text

secret santa // day 1

content warnings; swearing, mention of boners, drinking?, pining and stressed matty lol

a/n; day 1 wooooo!!! For some reason, this is my longest fic i have for the 12 days, so we are starting with a bang, i guess?? I'm not totally sure how I feel about this fic... but tbh I never like anything I post, so that's not really new lol

word count; 4.2k

(this fic takes place pre-relationship)

12 days masterlist

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“Daddy!” is the first thing Matty hears when his daughter comes bounding into the house after school that day. Adam follows behind her with an exasperated look on his face, and her bright pink unicorn backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hi mate, Annie has some very exciting news that she just can not stop talking about,” he says, stressing the fact that she just will not stop talking. Matty gives his friend an understanding nod as he takes his daughter's bag.

“Ah wow, how exciting! I can't wait to hear all about it,” Annie opens her mouth to talk, but Maty quickly cuts in before she can start, “After Uncle Adam leaves, okay? Say, thank you for picking me up to Uncle Adam!”

Annie comes bounding up to Adam and hugs his legs. He can't help the smile that breaks out on his face. “Thank you, Uncle Adam!!” Annie says, looking up at him with that cheeky face he loves so much. Adam pats her head and waves to Matty before swiftly leaving to hang out with his much more peaceful son.

Matty manages to corral his daughter to sit at the kitchen table to share her very thrilling news, Annie is practically vibrating in her seat with excitement. Despite her palpable eagerness, Annie waited until Matty had sat down and given her a nod to start talking, something they had been working on.

As soon as she got the nod, words started vomiting out of Annie's mouth at a speed most people wouldn't be able to decipher. But if anyone was an expert on little Annie Healy, it was her dad.

“I get to do the Secret Santa!!” Annie eventually says, grinning so wide that Matty isn't sure her cheeks won't split. He pauses for a second, trying to process his daughter's words. How does she even know what secret Santa is?

“Oh wow, darling!” he says, fieigning happiness for his daughter, but his face tells another story, “That's great, sweetheart, but what does that mean exactly? Secret Santa with your friends? I thought we already got them presents?” Matty distinctly remembers about 2 hours in the Tesco toy aisle choosing out the perfect toy for each of her friends.

“Not for my friends silly,” Annie says sighing, as if her father's obliviousness was just so ridiculous, “for Miss y/n!!!” she smacks her hands on the table with a flourish, acting like this was an obvious piece of information.

Well, it certainly piqued Matty's interest. As did anything that involved your name, really. He remembers last month when someone got hired at Dirty Hit with the same name as you. Matty nearly got whiplash with how fast he turned when he first heard someone say “Y/n is here to see you!” The disappointment on his face must have scared the poor intern half to death. He quickly fixed his expression and was polite, but he felt his pulse racing under his skin.

“Ooh wow, munchkin, that's awesome! Did they give you a note or anything for me to have a look at?” Matty asks. He's sure they wouldn't trust a 6-year-old to relay this information.

Annie perked up at his words, “Oh yeah!” She says, jumping off her chair and scurrying over to her backpack. She unzips her bag and starts furiously pulling out different objects. Matty isn't sure how it all fits in. It's like Mary Poppins bag. She pulls out 5 books, 2 jumpers, 6 pieces of mystery paper, 2 toys (that she is not allowed to bring to school) and one of mayhems toys before she shrieks out an “Aha!” and in her hand is a crumpled pink slip of paper.

she brings it over to Matty excitedly and shoves it into his hand before straightening her back and puffing her chest out, clearly proud to have been chosen. Matty laughs at his daughter's infallible confidence before trying to straighten out the paper enough to read what's written.

“Okay let's see…” Matty says to himself, “Congratulations! If you have received this note, you have been chosen for our teacher's Secret Santa program! We at bridgeside school believe that our amazing teachers also deserve gifts this holiday season, so we choose one student from each teacher's class to be their Secret Santa. Don't worry, parents, there's a £10 limit so no need to go too wild! Students are picked based on enthusiasm and progress in school, so you should be proud to be picked! Please ensure all gifts are given to reception by Monday next week to allow time to distribute them. Thank you!” Matty finishes reading the note under his breath, and he can't help but grin to himself at the fact Annie was specially chosen.

He puts the paper down on the table and turns around to Annie, who is standing beside him with a nervous look on her face. Matty pauses for a few seconds before jumping and grabbing her, Annie shrieks at the sudden attack. He pulls her onto his lap and begins tickling all over her, revelling in her roaring laughter and infectious smile.

“Specially chosen, huh!” Matty says loudly to his daughter, still squeezing her tight in his arms and tickling where he can reach. Annie nods as best she can whilst being attacked with tickles, and Matty laughs at her gappy grin.

He soon lets up and leaves Annie sitting in his lap, looking happy as can be, “I know, Daddy!! The headmistress came to me today and said it because I've been trying so hard at my spelling!” she says, the look of pride on her face made mattys heart swell.

He remembers the late nights of practising her spelling. At the last parent’s evening, you had brought up Annie was falling behind a small bit in the weekly spelling tests. Not too much, but enough where some work at home would be beneficial. So Matty dedicated every Monday night as spelling night, and he and Annie sat and worked on it. He couldn't be happier that their hard work was recognised or that she's making such good progress.

It's then that the gravity of the situation at hand hits Matty. He has to buy a gift for you. For YOU. For the woman he… cares a great deal about. What does he buy? And for only £10! What good can he get with that? He didn't want to give you a shitty bottle of wine, this is his first opportunity to give you a gift and he wasn't about to fuck it up with a bad pinot.

Knowing he was about to spiral, Matty sent Annie off with a genuine smile and a quick hug. Annie being Annie, ran off oblivious to her dad's growing stress and began trolling around the house looking for mayhem. She had got some new hairclips in a magazine and was determined to give him a makeover.

Before he could go completely insane, Matty ran into the kitchen for his phone and just dialled the most recent number he called. Anyone would help right now, Matty was just sick of his own mind.

“Hey Matty, you alright?” Ah, Adam, perfect. He was level-headed, a good dad, and knows how to deal with Matty’s hysteria.

“Adam.” Matty starts in a disturbingly calm voice, “How could you just LEAVE when you knew what Annie was going to say?!?!” Matty scolded his best friend and was just met with the sound of laughter over the phone.

“Why would I stay? It's no big deal, right? You have said on many occasions you feel totally neutral about Miss y/n, so I felt no need to stay” Adam teased, having had many conversations with Matty about his clear crush on you.

He first saw it at the school parent's day, he and Matty were casually chatting when you walked over and he saw his friend change in front of his eyes, suddenly becoming a lovesick 16-year-old. But Matty insisted he didn't have feelings for you, according to Matty he was “remarkably and totally neutral towards you”.

Adam decided this news was a great way to test this theory. As soon as he heard Annie chattering on, he knew Matty would freak out, grab his phone, and call him. So when he got home, Adam simply made a cup of tea and sat down with his phone in his hand, waiting for a call. And 20 minutes later, his phone rang.

Silence is all Adam heard over the phone for a good few seconds, and he could almost see Matty weighing up his options with that scrunched-up face he does. He picked up his tea and loudly took a sip, reminding Matty of his presence.

On the other end of the line, Matty was doing exactly that. Does he embarrass himself and admit his feelings in exchange for help? Or does he fight to keep the last shred of dignity he had?

“Fine. I really really like her. Are you happy now?” Matty sighed, deciding that any dignity he might have had in the eyes of Adam died when he found him passed out in a bin with George at 19.

Adam grinned teasingly on the other side of the phone but decided to leave any real teasing for in person. It's just no fun when you can't see Matty's cheeks gradually turning more pink. “Okay. now that we've got that out of the way, what the fuck are you gonna get her?”

Matty scoffed at his friend's question, “Mate. Why the fuck do you think I'm calling? I have no idea!! I don't want to be boring and just get a candle and a bottle of wine.” Matty pauses thoughtfully for a moment before returning to his ramble, “although she does like candles. I remember her saying her apartment is covered in them, she even set off the smoke detector once. And she is always smelling like Jasmine so maybe that is her favourite scent? God she smells so good, you know I think her shampoo is apple and that mixed with-”

Adam cut Matty off before he started giving him your home address and national insurance number, “Dude how do you know what scent shampoo she uses? God, you're such a stalker. Don't go full Dahmer on this girl, yeah?” Adam jokes.

“It's not my fault she has nice hair! Anyway, shut up. You are not being helpful right now” Matty whines petulantly, and Adam realises he's actually freaking out about this. He decided it was time to go full dad mode and be supportive.

“Right, it's clear you know a lot about her, so why don't we focus on that? Do you know her favourite perfume or something? Maybe some jewellery she wants? I’m assuming you are not sticking to the £10 limit”

Matty simply scoffs, confirming Adam’s suspicion. Before he can continue throwing ideas at Matty, he hears him gasp, “I know what to get her!” Matty says excitedly.

Once again, silence falls over the two men, and Adam sighs, knowing what Matty wants, “and what is that, Matthew?” he says with sarcastic excitement filling his voice.

Adam can hear the grin over the phone as Matty speaks, “I'm going to get her a copy of “The Little Prince” but a proper nice one, first edition in the original French and everything” he puffed out his chest in pride as he finished, despite no one being around to see him.

“A kid's book? Matty shes a teacher. I'm sure she's sick of kid’s books, why would you get her that? Does she even know French?” Adam can't help but think Matty saw a copy on her desk and just assumed she liked it. Maybe she was just teaching with it, and Matty took the idea and ran.

“No no, you don't get it,” Matty starts, “it was her favourite book as a kid. She was obsessed and read it cover to cover so many times the spine fell apart. She told me that this book is what made her want to teach. As soon as she read it, she went into her class the next day and did a whole presentation on it, read it to her whole class, and answered questions." Matty envisioned an 8-year-old you buzzing with excitement talking about the book, your teacher smiling and encouraging as you were blabbering on.

"She had a copy from her grandmother that she treasured, but it got lost in the jumble when she moved. It was in the original French, and she learnt French just to be able to read it. Nothing means more to her than this book.” As he finished, Matty noticed the massive grin on his face, something that was inevitable whenever he spoke about you.

He decided not to talk about the one time he actually heard you speak French, not wanting to share the experience of trying to hide a boner during a school-wide meeting and sneaking off to his car pretty quickly after it wrapped up.

Adam was taken aback by Matty's words. Who was this person, and what did he do to his best mate? He's pretty sure for his last situation-ships birthday, Matty got her a card with a bouquet of lilies. And she was allergic to lilies.

But here he was, considering things you loved in childhood, things that actually mean something to you. He had never seen Matty so infatuated with someone, remembering every little thing they ever said.

Matty was in love with you.

“Fuck man you are whipped” is what Adam decided to say, not sure whether Matty had come to the whole “love” realisation by himself yet.

“Ha ha ha, Adam you're so funny.” Matty said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “So do you think it is okay? She’ll like it?” he anxiously chewed on his nails as he spoke, desperate not to fuck this up.

“It's perfect. She's gonna love it, if you can find one that is” came Adam's response, he decided to lay off the comedic responses for a little bit, just to stop Matty from having a mental breakdown.

“Oh I'll find one. Otherwise, I'll have to get her a candle, and that's just shite” his confidence was clear through the phone. And a determined Matty is someone who gets something done, whether you like it or not.

As soon as he knew what to get, he practically hung up on Hann mid-sentence, but he stayed long enough to give him a rushed goodbye. Not quite long enough to say thank you, however, but Adam got a text a few seconds later simply saying, “Thank you, I needed that”

Adam, being a middle-aged man, simply sent back a thumbs-up emoji, ‘an image that speaks a thousand words’ he thought.

////

After a week of calling every rare bookshop in the area, Matty managed to get his hands on a first edition of “The Little Prince”, for substantially more than £10 but that secret was between him, god and his wallet.

He explained to the school that Annie wanted to give her gift to you personally, so he asked if he could bring it directly to you on Friday. By some grace of god, the school agreed, and here Matty was standing outside your door gift bag in hand and pulling anxiously at his shirt.

“Matty!” You say in shock as you open the door, a beaming smile on your face. Matty took in your dress and almost had to grip the door frame to steady himself. It was the staff Christmas party that night, and it was clear you were all dressed up and ready. You stood in a sleek black dress, nothing glittery or fancy, but the way it looked on you had Matty's hands itching to touch you.

“I'm here too miss y/n” came a little voice from below. You were too busy staring into Matty’s eyes and watching them skirt over your body.

“Oh, Annie! I'm so sorry, sweetheart, your daddy is so tall I almost missed you!” You laugh out and pat Annie's head in apology. Matty couldn't help but preen at the mention of his height.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt you. You look amazing, by the way. Well, not like - not amazing in a creepy way - I mean-” Matty stuttered, trying to get back to his point. You simply nod along with his words and bit the inside of your cheek to hide the smirk threatening to break across your face.

“Anyway,” Matty said after he pulled himself together with a shake of his head, “we're here to give you your Secret Santa present! Annie, do you want to pass it to miss y/n?” he patted his daughter on the back and passed her the gift.

With flushed cheeks and a pink nose from the cold, Annie grinned up to you and passed the bag over. Matty had added a few filler presents, a candle and a bottle of perfume Annie chose, and that he thought you'd like. Just the book felt… odd. A little too personal, maybe, he didn't want to scare you off with his slightly stalker-like tendencies.

“Wow! Thank you, Annie! I didn't think I was even in this year's Secret Santa!” You lie, you knew Annie was your gift giver the day she got chosen. That cheesy smile wouldn't leave her face all day.

Annie giggled clung to her dad's leg, suddenly feeling shy at the attention. Matty simply smiled at his daughter and began to fiddle with her curls.

“Okay well, we will leave you to go to your party now. I hope you have a good time! Say bye to miss y/n Annie,” Matty prompts his daughter, who gives you a wave and runs away. Matty spins on his heels and begins to follow before turning around to say one last thing.

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way. You look beautiful” he said with a bashful smile, acting almost as shy as his daughter just had.

Words escaped you at that moment. You wanted to run and give him a hug for the present and a kiss for the compliment, but you simply whispered, “Thank you, Matty.”

The door had barely clicked shut, and you had already all but ran to your desk to open your present, your heart in your mouth at the prospect of a gift from Matty. Well, technically from Annie, but you're pretty sure if Matty gave her £10 and let her loose in Tesco, the present would end up being something totally random like a bag of celery.

But maybe you were reading too much into this. Your silly schoolgirl crush has just been growing and growing over the passing months. Your heart aches for Matty. It has gotten to the point where you sit in bed late at night and perform autopsies on conversations you had months ago. Desperate to find something said in the unsaid, something new.

You won't see him for a week, and you'll convince yourself it's just a physical attraction thing, a casual crush. But then you see him swooping in at pick up with his rockstar sunglasses and beautiful curls, and you feel your heart stutter and pause. Every time you speak with him, butterflies hammer at your ribs, and your brain seems to just stop around him. Much to your embarrassment.

Recently, you vowed to be more natural around him, totally normal. However, trying to play it cool and casual is a great plan in theory, but attempting to do that whilst looking into his eyes is an almost impossible task.

But tonight, you managed to at least play it off like Matty's comment didn't knock the wind out of you. His calling you beautiful was going to go around and around in your head for weeks. You wish you could have memorised the moment better. You should focus on his shy smile or the way he wrung his hands together anxiously. Maybe even the look of pure love in his eyes.

But you were too busy internally repeating to yourself “Don't fall over. Don't act like a twat. Make sure to smile and not freeze.” so all of those small things got lost in the jumble of thoughts.

As you pulled the tissue out of the paper, a waft of matty hit your nostrils. god, were you that desperate that even tissue paper smells like him now? You could swear it has that same musk and warmth that follows him around.

Little did you know Matty had to actively choose not to constantly think about you. He has to try not to think about the way you bite your lip when you're focusing on something. Or the way you fiddle with your hair when you're nervous, twisting it around your fingers absentmindedly. Or even the way your cheeks flush when someone compliments you, the way it spreads from your cheeks to over your nose and down to your neck. He has to really try not to think about your neck, to not obsess over the thought of pressing kisses up and down it as you giggle into him. But alas, he had actual adult responsibilities, much to his dismay, so he couldn't just sit and analyse you every waking moment.

You stick your hand in and grab something that feels like a candle, and it is… oh. It's a candle. Huh.

You're not disappointed. It smells good and has a beautiful jar, but you can't help but feel slightly odd at the lack of warmth. But whatever, you were expecting too much anyway. A candle and a bottle of wine are perfectly normal Secret Santa presents, and why should you expect anything other than that? Just because you were lusting after Matty doesn't mean he thought about you any longer than he had to.

You shake off any disappointment you had and resign yourself to the idea that this is a totally normal parent present. There won't be anything amazing or showstopping. The budget was £10 and you're sure not even world famous rock star Matty Healy could get anything good with that.

You pull out the perfume next, immediately smiling as you notice it's your favourite scent, jasmine. What a lucky guess. It's a nice bottle, too. It had you immediately thinking of a use for it afterwards, the same way any nice bottle or jar does. You must have a collection of 20 candle jars on your mantle at home filled with knickknacks, little things from the kids, or strange porcelain figures you didn't have the heart to leave in a charity shop.

The bag is still heavy in your hands, but you scrunch your face in confusion. Surely there's no budget left? Tentatively, you reach in and feel a book, which is even more confusing to you, but you pull it out anyway, interested to see what Matty thought you read.

Oh. fuck.

There in your hands was your childhood in physical form, the curly script reading “le petit prince.” Your eyes skirt over the cover as they well up. Slowly, you spin the book around and audibly gasp as you look it over, admiring its worn spine and somehow pristine cover.

Your vision is foggy, tears gathering at your lash line and you're intent on not letting them fall, but as soon as you open the book and a small certificate of authenticity falls out you can't help but wetly laugh in shock as tears stream down your cheeks.

The first edition of your favourite book of all time. The book that meant everything to you, everything to your grandmother. You never thought you'd see a first edition in real life, let alone own one.

With shaky hands, you carefully pull apart the pages and begin to read, muttering the french under your breath. Tears drip onto the desk and blow you. You sniffle and bring a shaky hand up to wipe them away, but it's futile. They continue to find their way down your cheeks.

With a pounding heart, you place down the book with the care of handling a newborn baby, and as you do so a small white slip of paper under the certificate catches your eye. You slide it out from under and try and read it despite your wet eyes.

“To y/n,

I know this is over the limit, but I also know what this book means to you. I still remember talking about it in depth on World Book Day. Us two huddled in a corner, trying to escape the other parents. Your vulnerability and honesty that day meant so much to me. Thank you for sharing. also, thank you for being the very best teacher to my little girl. I don't know where either of us would be without you. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now, Let's keep this gift between us, though, huh? I wouldn't want Mr. Johnson from the year 5 class to find out his nice cheese platter isn't the best gift of the year.

Happy holidays darling,

Matty x”

Well, safe to say any hope of that crush faltering had just died and gone to hell.

#christmas75 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #teacher au!#i think this is too wordy and lowkey bad... but we move #matty healy fanfic #hopefully its not too bad??

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lenathekiller · 7 months

Text

*~Filling the Loneliness~*

A Buggy x gn!reader

Tags: mix of angst, smut and fluff basically, a bit of voyeurism too

A/n: excuse mistakes I'm very rusty at writing but this damn clown has a chokehold on my mind. I wrote this with LABuggy in mind but it could fit Anime buggy as well tbh. The only derogatory word the user is called is sl*t and it's only used once.

Word count: 6683

It was just another day of work, managing the costume shop that you'd come to own somehow. It was a relatively good sized shop, selling a variety of clothing one might use for performances or wear to the masquerade themed parties the town held every week.

Your little costal town had been unofficially deemed a safe space for pirates to come dock without having to worry about being captured for bounty or fought off by other pirates. Hence why the town threw celebrations themed around casting aside one's identity to just enjoy a night of drinking and having fun without a worry for their own safety.

You never cared to attend the celebrations, instead using the time to do trivial tasks around the shop like checking inventory or working on new masks or makeups to sell. You were doing such right now infact.

Behind the counter you sat, working on some paperwork you needed to finish, calculating what had sold best this week compared to last week.

"Welcome in!" You called out when you heard the squeaking of the shop's old door opening, but did not glance up to check whom had come in. "I'll be with you in a moment, feel free to look around and let me know if you need any assistance finding what you need."

Footsteps approached the counter followed by the creaking of someone leaning against the counter across from you. "Actually doll you can help me, I came to get my usual order of things. So where's ole Petey?"

Keeping your eyes still glued to your papers you continued to work as you replied. "That old coot's dead. Died bout 3 weeks ago after drinking himself into a damn stupor and falling into the sea. So I'm in charge of this place now unfortunately, seeing as I was his only employee."

You heard a chuckle "That damn old man. I tried to warn him something would happen but I suppose he got what he deserves after partying too hard even at his old age."

"Got that right. Sure he was a good boss but the bastard drank more than any pirate that visits town." You scoffed finishing up your work and setting it aside. Finally looking up you instantly recognized the man before you. "Now how can I help- oh it's you."

The man stood up straight, fixing his coat proudly with a grin. "I see you know of the Great and flashy Buggy. Of course you would, I mean who wouldn't?"

Placing a hand on your hip as you stood from your seat, smiling back at the Clown pirate. "The boss never seemed to shut up about you, constantly talking about how you were his best customer.... amongst other things I'd rather not repeat."

His face fell a bit at your hinting of the old owner saying less than honorable things about him.

"Don't worry, I never took his rambling of you to heart. He was always a cranky drunkard who'd complain about anything or anyone he could." You reached over and patted Buggy on the shoulder reassuringly, before motioning to the backroom with a thumb. "Thankfully that man made notes about his regulars preferences so I'll be right back. Just gonna go grab em real quick so I can get you what you need without all the hassle of you having to explain your likes and dislikes of products to me."

The tall clown gave a nod, watching you disappear into the back of the shop. Taking the opportunity to glance around at the stock around him, mentally taking note of what had changed since he'd last been here about 3 months ago.

After a few minutes you returned holding his wanted poster, reading the scrawling of notes written on the back of it. "Let's see, looks like you prefer the typical Circus clown makeup, of course long lasting and as smudge proof as possible. Though we don't carry one of these brands anymore...-" You were deep in thought now mumbling as you moved around the shop grabbing the items noted on Buggy's preference sheet.

The said Clown Pirate stood leaning on the front counter, watching you zip around like a little mouse searching for all the usual products he buys. He had to admit you looked quite cute all worked up and focused on your job like that.

"The only thing we don't have from this list is the white face paint, but have no fear my good man for you're in luck." You placed down the small basket of products before him. You gave a small 'boop' to his nose with your finger before proudly crossing your arms. "I happen to make my own white face paint, and am willing to give you my latest batch if your interested."

"Oh really? And just what do you know about clown makeup little shop keep?" He asked you smugly, with a smirk

"A lot more than you think bozo. I was a mime for ten years, hence my fashion sense idiot." You gestured to yourself and your choice of clothing.

He admittedly hadn't really paid attention to what exactly you were wearing, more distracted by your actions and words. Though now he could see you were wearing black pants, that were doing wonders to make your thighs look great, and a oversized longsleeved striped black and white shirt, with some subtle mime makeup. "Huh. I hadn't even noticed."

You stood there silent for a second, before reaching up to pat his cheek a bit mockingly. "It's a good thing your attractive, cause you sure aren't that observant are ya bud?"

The man was thrown off guard at the fact you'd just complimented him, albeit also insulting him along with it. Usually he's the one being somewhat cheeky and flirty to others with no prevail, but here you were just casually complimenting him like it was nothing.

You moved back behind the counter, pulling a container of white paint, a handheld mirror, a few brushes as well as sponges, and a damp rag. "Well here let me show you just what I actually know about clown makeup."

Before Buggy could even process what was going on, you'd already snatched his head off his shoulders, now holding it between your hands. "Hey- Just what do you think your doing?!" He spat out at you in an annoyed tone, head already trying to wiggle free from your grasp.

"Take it easy hot stuff, you're too tall for me to do your makeup if your standing. I'm simply making this easier for both of us." You took a seat in your chair, laying Buggy's head on your lap between your thighs so he was facing upwards. "If you're a good boy who stays still I may even give you treat."

"Forward aren't we? Already putting my head between your legs and I've only just met you. I mean I know I'm flashy and all but I didn't realize I was having such an affect on you babe." He teases as the both of blush a bit at the position your in.

"Oh shut up, fool. Only in your dreams would your head actually be allowed between my legs in such a sinful manner." You cut off any reply he could give by begining to gently wipe the makeup off his face with the damp rag you'd pulled out previously. You made sure not to rub too hard as you scrubbed his face clean, though the red on his nose wasn't coming off at all.

He picked up on your confusion, rolling his eyes and sighing a bit annoyed. "That's not makeup sweetheart. My nose is just naturally big and red."

You smiled sheepishly. "Heh, sorry. I knew it was your natural nose I just didn't think it was naturally red as well."

"Yea yea, crack your jokes now about it so I don't have to hear them later" His eyes were looking elsewhere as he spoke, avoiding your gaze as much as he could.

You paused, looking into his eyes till he eventually gave in, making eye contact with you. "Why would I joke about something you can't control or change about yourself?"

"Cause everyone else does so why wouldn't you as well?" He stated matter of factly, while studying your gaze, seeing a flash of hurt for him in your eyes.

"Well, I'm not everyone else." Shifting your gaze to look at his nose for a second, and smiling faintly as you spoke. "In fact I think it's cute to be honest. Seeing it up close somewhat makes me want to give you a kiss right on it."

Buggy was well and truly lost for words now, just a blushing mess that was forced to look right at you. You just let him stay like that, giggling softly at his cheeks that seemed to be almost as red as his nose, before you finally gave him some sort of mercy by applying new makeup to his warmed face. The both of you stayed silent during the whole thing, you concentrating on the paint you were applying to Buggy's face as his head laid there in your lap, him studying every inch of your face as you worked.

He had to admit he was trying to memorize every little detail of your face, from the color of your eyes, to every little twitch of your lips while you focused, the way your tongue would poke out slightly and brow furrowed when you were painting thinner lines. He was trying to savor this moment while he could, knowing there was never a moment like this before nor would he ever possibly experience anything like this again. No one was or ever would treat him with such care and attention as you were currently, this truly was a once in a lifetime thing for him and he wanted to remember it forever.

Eventually you finished, putting down the paint brushes, and lifting the clowns head up in your hands to admire your masterpiece. A smile formed on your lips as you stood, moving to reunite Buggy's head to his body again and handed him the handheld mirror.

"Pretty good huh?" You spoke as he looked at your handy work.

You did the exact same look he had on before but there was a noticeable difference between his work and yours. His makeup had looked more messy and somewhat smudged before, as if he practically lived in it, where as now the lines were crisp and colors vibrant. He looked like a clown people would smile and laugh with, no longer one people feared instantly.

"Damn sweetheart, you're even better with your hands than I thought." He teased as he handed you back the mirror, giving you a wink and click of his tongue.

You winked back at him with a smirk. "Don't give me all the credit, I mean I had quite the attractive canvas to work with."

"You seem to really enjoy flattering me." His head cocked curiously at you "Or are you just this flirty with all your customers?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, starting to clean up the counter and repackage the products you used on him. "Nah, just you Buggy. I guess you could say I have a thing for clowns."

A floating hand grabbed your chin gently, guiding your gaze back to it's owner, whom was now leaning in dangerously close to your face. "Hmm, well too bad for you. I don't have a thing for chatty mimes."

He could have sworn your gaze had flicked to his lips for a moment before you licked your own, but he'd chalk it up to his desperately lonely mind imagining things. The hand let you go, reattaching itself as Buggy stepped back, away from the counter. You took a minute to snap back to reality, then went back to packing up his order.

The pirate began to roam a little, looking at all the different costumes and masks you had displayed around the shop. Maybe he could get a few new outfits for some of the crew before they all head back out to sea in a few days. Hell maybe he'd get himself a new flashier coat too, one that would really wow the audience when he makes his grand entrance every night.

"Got everything you need packed up and ready for you. Did you want to get anything else?" Your voice pulling him from his thoughts and luring him back over to you.

"Was thinking bout a new coat, something flashy, but I'll hold off till tomorrow on that." He spoke, pulling out a few coins to pay you with.

"Oh good! So I will get to see you again." A smile formed on your lips as you took the payment and slid the box of merchandise over to him.

"Of course! I would never deny a fan from seeing my greatness up close in person." He takes a dramatic bow towards you, before placing one hand over his heart. "What kind of performer would I be if I did such a thing?"

You just laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head a bit.

He grabs the box off the counter and headed to the door, turning to bid you farewell. "You've been a wonderful audience, but it's time for me to take my grand exit unfortunately."

"Farewell Captain Buggy. I'll be waiting patiently till your next performance." You give a small round of applause for him as he leaves.

You stand there for a minute or two, replaying the whole interaction in your head, letting out a frustrated cry when you realize something. "FUCK! I NEVER TOLD HIM MY NAME!!"

"Didn't tell whom your name?" A voice says, causing you to jump.

Turning you see famed pirate Mihawk, you jump once more. "Ah! Sorry sir! I didn't hear you come in, my apologies."

"It's quite alright, I will not fault you for being so lost in thought in your own store." He stoically dismissed your concerned apology, removing his hat and placing it on the counter. "I seem to have gotten a bit careless earlier and somehow got a cut in my hat. Am I correct to assume this is the place I can get it fixed up nicely and quickly?"

Looking at the mentioned cut you assessed it was something that you could indeed repair, and quite quickly. "Yes, I do not believe this will take me that long to patch up, and I'll make it as unnoticeable as possible of course. Give me about an hour and I'll have it good as new sir."

"Very good, I shall be back then." He gave a curt nod before leaving, and as soon as he was out the door, you immediately set to work on fixing the hole in his hat.

After one hour had past exactly, Mihawk came strolling back in, gaining the attention of the few locals that had come in to browse.

"Perfect timing I finished a mere moment ago." You handed him back his hat, watching as he inspected your craftsmanship intensely.

A smirk cracked on his lips as he glanced back up at you. "Very well done, you can not even tell it is there unless you look extremely closely at it. Of course no one will ever be close enough for that, so you have my thanks." He placed a hefty amount of money in your hands before leaving.

"Whoa! That guy's intense!" One of locals muttered as they came to the counter.

"Yes he is, but thankfully I was able to do a good repair job." You replied, starting to ring up the items they'd set down.

"He seemed quite pleased with your work, maybe he'd be willing to dance with ya at the celebration tonight." Someone else chimed in, as they got in line to be rung up.

"Don't be ridiculous. That man is much too serious for my liking, I'd feel on edge the whole time." You shuttered slightly at the thought. "I never go to any of the parties in town anyways, but even if I did I'd rather spend my time around someone more akin to Buggy honestly."

A scoff could be heard, followed by a disgusted toned response. "Really that loser? He's a pretty sorry excuse for a pirate don't ya think?"

A few other insults and comments were thrown in agreement by others in the shop.

"HEY, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" You shouted, causing everyone to jump and go quiet. "If y'all want to shit talk that man then: GET.. OUT..OF..MY..SHOP!" you put emphasis on those last words, pointing your gaze to each person, whom was just talking, with each word.

A few people gulped in fear at what you might do if they say anything more.

"Captain Buggy is a highly valued customer here, so if you want to run your mouths like that about him in front of me then there will not only be hell to pay, but you will also be banned from my shop for life."

Everyone remained silent and somewhat timid of you until they left the store thankfully.

God did that get you're blood boiling, and you weren't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the fact that the clown had just been in here early and then suddenly everyone's throwing around insults about him. Or maybe it was more so the fact that Buggy had wormed into your heart quite easily during the earlier interaction you'd had with him. Whatever it was, it caused you to be uncharacteristically protective of someone other than yourself or the few people you were actually fairly close to. He was risking his life out at sea, putting on showy performances of a lifetime, while everyone in town here just partied and got drunk constantly, yet they'd all looked down upon Buggy in distain.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you began to occupy your time by sketching ideas and designs for costume pieces you could make to sell. Eventually you found yourself drafting up some designs for a flashy coat you'd think a certain blue haired pirate captain might not only enjoy but also look great in.

The squeaking of the door could be heard, pulling you from your current sketching, you looked up to find Buggy back in the shop.

Your face instantly lit up with a smile upon seeing him. "Hey there handsome, I thought you wouldn't be back till tomorrow."

He smiled back at you, making his way over to lean on the counter across from you. "Well what can I say? I was craving the love of an audience... well that and I realized you never gave me that treat for being a 'good boy' like you said earlier."

"Oh and just what kind of treat would the marvelous Buggy the Clown like?" You stood up, making your way around the counter to stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. "Maybe something like a free pair of gloves, or a discount on one of the pricer costume pieces, or maybe even a specially made mask that will fit around your cute nose?" At the mention of his nose you gave it a small 'boop' with your finger.

He gently grabbed the hand you used to tap his nose, holding in his as he looked into your eyes. "Actually I was more so hoping for that kiss you claimed you wanted to give me. Ya know the one you you said you want to give me on my nose you seem to like so much."

"Oh-" You were caught off guard a bit, in a good way however as it caused you to blush. "I suppose I can do that, yea.."

A wide smile grew on his face as you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning up to place a small kiss to his bulbus red nose. You'd only pulled back a few inches away from his face, looking into his eyes for a moment before a mutual pull had you both leaning back in and connecting your lips. It was a sweet kiss, that lasted for what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two in reality, though it left you both speechless for a moment.

"Uh wow, I um- wasn't expecting that sorry." Buggy said, breaking the calm silence you'd been in.

"Heh, yea me either, but I enjoyed it so don't apologize." You slid your hands up to cup his cheeks on either side of his head. Something felt weird though when you did. "Uh not to ruin the moment but you seem to be missing an ear..."

A nervous chuckle came from him. "Heh, about that..." He stopped speaking for a moment a bit embarrassed as his missing ear seemed to zip out of your back pocket and back to his head. "I kind of left it here earlier."

"When did you put that there?" You were more shocked at how it got his ear into your pocket without you knowing, than you were mad at him for seemingly spying on you.

"I did it while you were distracted with my theatrics of leaving." He smiled sheepishly. "I heard you defending my honor so to speak and felt bad about the whole spying thing after that so I decided to come back."

"Hmm, if you say so~" You squinted at him, being jokingly skeptical of his words.

"I'm willing to make up for the spying in anyway you want." He held his hands up, seemingly in a playful surrender.

You faked thinking really hard for a moment, before smiling and giving your response. "I suppose you can give me another kiss, then I'll forgive you."

A shit-eating grin plastered itself across Buggy's face, while his hands now detached pulled you close to him by your waist. "Oh that I'd me more than happy to do."

The two of you shared in another sweet kiss, this one with a bit more passion pouring from both of you. Neither of you wanted to be the first to pull away, though eventually when your lips had parted from each other's you remained there holding each other still.

A pit started to form in your stomach, the kiss was great sure but you hardly knew him. For all you know he could have a spouse and kids somewhere, yet here you were openly flirting and kissing him without even a second thought. There'd always been a sort of loneliness in you, always craving the love of another but never being able to find it. You had small flings during the time you were a mime, ridding yourself of that lonely feeling for short periods with the fleeting intimacy of your fellow performers. Though it had grown especially harder since you had moved here, to fight off that ache, no longer having the trusted company of others, only visiting pirates that brought danger with them and the townsfolk who only ever seem to care about partying their troubles away.

Then Buggy came in and you couldn't help latching on to the hope that those rumors of him being less of a threatening force were correct. Thinking he might be easier to approach, that he wouldn't be a threat to your own safety, and you could use him easily to fill that void again for at least the night. There would be no worry about catching feelings considering he only comes for supplies every few months from what you'd heard, and he surely would or has met others who catch his eye far better than you ever could.

It was all starting to make you feel guilty the more you thought about it. "I'm sorry Buggy."

His expression flushed with confusion. "Huh? What are you apologizing for?"

"I'm sorry that I don't fear you." You moved out of his grasp slowly, gaze now shifted to the floor.

More confusion. "How is that a bad thing exactly?"

A sigh escaped from you, back now facing the puzzled pirate. "Every other pirate that comes to town leaves me feeling on edge. Sure this town might be big on reputations not mattering here but I can't help but fear for my life around the few pirates that do come in to this little shop. You must have heard the fear I felt earlier over Mihawk's visit, yet I was completely at peace when I saw you. I guess I let the gossip people say about you being less threatening or less strong as others affect how I saw you. I kind of used you somewhat for my own selfish desires today or was at least planning on to."

"What do you mean by that exactly?" You couldn't read his emotion in his voice and you dated not look back at him.

"I've always longed to experience love but I never have been able to. I use to sleep around with my fellow performers to chase off my feelings of loneliness, though I can't do that anymore since I've moved to this town. The pirates bring too much uncertainty with them and the locals are all a bunch of careless party animals, but you've been described as somewhat of a push over. In my subconscious I guess I thought I could use you like a toy to make myself feel better with out caring about your own feelings since we're both pathetic cowards." As you spoke tears began softly falling from your eyes, causing your own makeup to become a mess. "I was wrong to think that though, and I realized it after you kissed me again. You don't deserve to be treated so poorly, especially not by me. I'm sorry Buggy for thinking so little of you, when in reality you are far greater than me."

Silence. No response from the man came, only the sound of you sniffing filled the air for what seemed like forever. Though finally detached gloved hands came to rest on your shoulders, snaking their way up your neck to cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears. Handless arms wrapping themselves around your waist from behind as Buggy's head floated Infront of you, looking into your eyes.

"It's okay sweetheart, there's no need to get so worked up over lil ole me. in all honesty I can't blame you or hate you at all for wanting to use me. I mean I would have used you right back." A bit of guilt hid behind his gaze, a small comforting smile on his painted lips. "I know I'm the great Buggy the Clown, but I'm in the exact same boat as you. Searching selfishly for small cures to fix the deep desire of wanting to be loved by someone. I've honestly used so many random people along my journey, never caring how'd they feel when I'd be gone the next day, never to see any of them again. There's no telling if I'd have ended up doing the same to you or not."

Staying there you a moment, both of you processing what you'd each admitted to, you could help but feel drawn to him again. Even if it was wrong of you to do considering all you'd said just now, you couldn't help but to reach up to cup his floating head, guiding his face towards yours again before kissing him.

"I'm sorry, i-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Don't be.." He said, connecting his lips back to yours again.

The kiss quickly turned passionate, it was clear that you both need this right now and there would be no resistance from either one of you. When you'd broken apart for a moment to catch your breaths, Buggy took the chance to spin you around and put himself together again. Now that your chests were pressing together, he recaptured your lips as one hand flew over to lock the shop's door and flip the sign to closed, before coming back to join the other hand in grabbing your ass. Your own hands found their way to his shoulders, one moving to his back as the other moved to softly tug off his bandana.

Tangling your fingers into his soft blue hair, few groans escaped him when you dared to tug at it. The sound only served to light a quickly growing fire of desire in you, which lead you to tug his hair some more in order to gain another few groans from him.

"Damn you really like my hair don't you?" He teased, trailing kisses down to your neck now, finding your sweet spot quickly, nibbling and sucking on it. "Though it's not fair I'm the only one making noise here."

You moaned at the feeling of his mouth marking up your neck, grinding your hips greedily against his, growing desperate for some form of friction between you two.

"Buggy~ pl-please" You whined a bit and he took the hint, using one of his hands to pin your waist against the counter while the other began to rub over your clothed crotch. He pulled his head away from your neck to watch the faces you were making at his touch. He felt he could watch you all day honestly, the way your eyes had become full of lust and your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip, was so mesmerizing to him. His own arousal and desire blossoming as he watched you try to plead with your eyes for him to touch you more. He maybe a killer but he knew how to be nice when he wanted, and thankfully he chose to play nice tonight by giving you what you wanted.

His hand stopped rubbing against your aching clothed loin, moving to undo your pants and pull them down.

When you tried to push your underwear along with them he stopped you. "No no- not yet." He picked you up, placing you so you were sitting at the edge of the counter, as he kneeled down to place his head between his legs. He started planting little kisses and bites along your thigh leading towards your core untill he was about to plant a kiss directly where you needed his touch the most, but instead switched to the other thigh, doing it over and over again to tease you.

"Captain please quit teasing~" you begged, not knowing how much more his little game you could handle before you'd go insane.

"Alright doll, but only cause you asked so nicely." Finally he removed your last bit of clothing covering your needy sex, planting tender kisses that only served to make you crave him even more.

Gradually he began to use his tongue, licking and sucking in all the right places and in all the right ways, drawing out moans from you, that he could only describe as beautiful. All the little moans, whimpers and curses of his name were music to his ears in all honesty, and he knew once he'd gone back out to sea they would haunt his dreams every night till he saw you again.

Of you in turn would be haunted by the memories of the way his mouth felt on you right now, the way it seemed to be effortlessly drawing you closer to your climax. "Buggy~ 'm close" Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, encouraging him to continue what he was currently doing until you had cum. Thankfully he did, letting you reach your high, then lapping up the mess you'd made without any hesitation.

Once he knew you'd come back down from your orgasm, he stood up and guiding you off the counter where you sat, moving to bend you over it instead. Removing his gloves and undoing his pants, his aching member flew around to your mouth while a few of his fingers began to tease your hole.

"Do me a favor babe, suck on that for me and get it nice and slick with your spit while I make sure your stretched out enough here for me to fit."

He didn't need to tell you twice, instantly you took the floating member into your mouth sucking on it and running your tongue over the tip. You took as much as you could into your mouth and throat, using your hand to spread excess drool over what little bit of length you couldn't. As you worked bobbing your head on his cock, he began to work your hole, starting by slowly inserting two of his digits into you, sliding them in and out a bit before scissoring them carefully inside you, and when he felt you were ready enough he inserted a third digit into the equation.

After a bit when he felt you were stretched out enough, and his dick was thoroughly lubed with your spit, he removed himself from both ends of you. Joining himself back together, he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, groans escaping from both of you as he did. His movements were slow and steady to start, letting you get fully accustomed to the feeling of each other.

"Fuck, even with all that preparation your still so tight." He groaned out into your ear, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he started to speed up his pace a little. "You doing okay? Nothing feels uncomfortable right?"

You shook your head, trying to remember how to speak anything but his name. "No- I'm fine- feels so good Buggy"

He plants a few kisses on your shoulder before he stands himself up straight, quickening his pace more till there's an audible slapping sound of your skin slapping against each other's. Just as you both were getting lost in the pleasure and feel of the other one's body, a knock errupts from the door.

The pair of you glance towards the door, seeing Mihawk standing in the window of it. Without even slowing down his thrusting for a second, Buggy detaches his torso and floats it to the door to answer it.

"What do you need?" You hear the clown ask annoyed, probably glaring daggers at the swordsman.

"I came to talk to the shop keep. I wanted to inquire about replacing the plume of my hat." Mihawk responds unfazed by the current situation.

"Really shit head? You can see were in the middle of something obviously, you couldn't wait till tomorrow to ask?" Buggy crosses his arms, now pissed at the man for interrupting you two over something so stupid. "Get lost, and If you bother me again while I'm fucking their brains out, I will kill you and serve them your heart in a pretty little box. Got it!?" With that he slams the door and relocks it, before his torso makes its way back over to you float Infront of you.

"Mmm~ Fuck that was kinda hot, and I loved the way you threatened him babe." You look up to meet his gaze.

"I know, I felt you clench a bit when I said it." He plants a kiss on your lips. "Now, that he's got me all pissed off I'm sorry but I'm gonna take it out on you. Sorry in advance"

He reconnects his body to his hips, gripping tightly onto your waist before picking up the pace of his thrusting till it's almost painful how quickly he's plunging in and out of you. Your hips are being harshly pressed into the counter's edge by force of his pounding, your brain going numb, only capable of barely forming his name on your lips occasionally or producing various loud groans of pleasure.

Somewhere in the hectic mess of your mind trying to keep ahold of what's going on, you realize you'd cum again, which only furthered the overstimulated mess of pleasure you'd become.

"Nng- Bu-ah-gy~" It was no use, you were desperately trying to beg him to slow down a little but words were far out of your reach in your current state.

"Shhh sweetheart" His removed head came up to rest beside your own to comfort you. "Only a little longer baby, I promise. I'm gonna cum soon and then we can take a break ok? You want me to come in you, right? Want me to make you mine, don't you?"

He weakly nodded in response as he kissed you, your mouths seemingly melding into one.

Finally his hips ceased all movement, burying himself as deep as he could before releasing into you. "Good slut~ see, doesn't it feel so nice to have my cum in you?"

Finally you regained the ability to speak. "Yes~ that was so... wonderful."

"I know it was, we practically had a standing ovation with all the clapping our bodies were making." He joked, removing himself slowly from you. "Now let me help you get cleaned up after that outstanding performance."

"I'd like that. We can go up the stairs in the backroom, I live above the shop." You stood up carefully but when you wobbled a bit Buggy instantly picked you up and carried you up to your bathroom, with the help of your directions. The pair of you bathed, him of course helping you clean and dry yourself off before you both moved to lie on your bed.

"Buggy, will you stay the night with me please?" You rested your head on his chest, curling up into his side.

"Of course. I couldn't even dream of leaving your side right now." He placed a few kisses to the top of your head while one of his hands now comfortingly rubbed your back.

Blissfully you both laid there silent, basking in the soft glow of the moon rising through the night sky and shining through your window. You could both hear the faint noise of people partying in town square, laughing and shouting in drunken glee, it serving as a form of white noise to your thought filled minds.

"Hey Buggy, can I make a proposition, well I guess it's more of a request?" You shifted so you could look into his eyes, that were now seemingly glowing in the low light.

"Sure my starlight. What is it?" A thumb ran over your cheek tenderly.

"Would you be willing to be mine?" You studied his face for a second as he thought. "I know I'm being a bit foolish here but you've filled that lonely void in me more than anyone else ever had. I honestly think I've fallen for you somewhat today and I don't want to lose you. I don't care if we can't see each other for months on end, just please let me selfishly love you for at least a little while and maybe you can even love me too."

Something twinkled in his eyes as you spoke, knowing he felt the same. You'd both lived your lives searching for someone to love, or someone who could love you back and now the two of you were here entwined in bed together. You'd both filled that empty void in each other, chased off the loneliness together and somehow grown attached to the other in less than a day. Even if this was only a fluke, a mistake on your part, Buggy wasn't going to question it in the slightest. You were practically begging for him of all people to love you, of course he wasn't going to deny your love. You were the first person to love him and want to be loved by him, he'd be an idiot if he pushed you away now.

"Of course! I'd give anything to be yours honestly!" He pulled you into a deep kiss, sealing your new relationship with tender passion. When he'd pulled away, the pair of you had eyes filled with joy.

"I do have one request of my own though, besides wanting you to be mine as well."

Curious and excited you nodded for him to continue.

"Can you finally tell me your name at least?"

#one piece live action #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #one piece fanfiction #live action buggy the clown #mine

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