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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 days

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Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 4

Special thanks to @magicalstripedhorse, who helped keep this installment on track. :)

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“Oh no,” Kara drawls the moment she steps out onto the stoop of her building eight days later. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Lena smirks, leaning casually against the side of an old beat up pick up truck. The red ball-cap on her head is just as worn, its frayed bill extending backwards from Lena’s head.

“Flannel? Really?” Kara eyes the shirt in question where it’s tied around Lena’s waist. “Can you be any more of a lesbian?”

Lena spreads her hands. “We’re going to a farmer’s market,” she says. “What did you expect? An LBD?”

“Hm,” Kara hums, bouncing down the steps to greet her girlfriend with a kiss. “Maybe for dinner later.”

She definitely wouldn’t mind seeing Lena in a little black dress. Her mind conjures up an image that very nearly makes her pull Lena back upstairs, but the call of fresh fruit and vegetables proves to be too strong.

“All right, Tegan and Sara, let’s get going.”

The drive is somewhat familiar, as Kara has been to the farmers market before, but it’s been a while and it takes longer than Kara remembers. She’s not mad about it though– it gives her time to catch up with Lena about their weeks, which are relatively tame for a week in the life of first responders.

Lena had a few oven fires, a serious case of whiplash during a fender bender, and not one, but two cats stuck in a tree. Definitely tops Kara’s days of petty larceny, jaywalking, and a single wellness check. But she knows better than to comment on the relative slowness– the moment it’s acknowledged is the moment the sky starts to fall.

Just when the city gives way to suburbs, Lena turns the truck into a graveled parking lot. Kara takes note of the cars already there, and the thin stream of people already circulating through the stalls. It’s only mid-morning, and she expects the crowd will only grow as the day progresses.

“Come on,” Kara calls as she hops out of the truck, slamming the dusty door behind her. “I need asparagus.”

She gets her asparagus, and much more. She snags an artichoke and some lettuce as well as some strawberries she makes a note to prep for the next time Lena comes over. Lena splits away for a short moment, and comes back with fava beans and a joke about a nice chianti that makes Kara laugh.

Produce leads to cuts of various meats out of coolers. Lena nudges her. “You like steak?”

Kara’s mouth waters. “Oh, yeah.”

Lena requests two prime ribs, and tucks them and a slab of bacon into her tote alongside her fava beans. By the time they get to the baked goods and crafts, Kara’s own bag is sitting heavy in the crook of her elbow. She moves it to her shoulder instead, and has just prodded Lena towards a live herbs vendor when a call splits the air.

“Hey, Sarge!”

Kara turns on instinct, and to her surprise Lena does as well. The expectant set of her features strikes Kara as odd, but she focuses her attention instead on who might have called for her. She doesn’t recognize any of the oncoming faces, which makes her frown.

“Sarge!”

The crowd parts just long enough for a man in a wheelchair to roll out from the throng of people. His face is round and creased with joy as he coasts towards them, but Kara pulls back slightly when she doesn’t recognize him.

Lena steps forward. “Hey, Gonzales.”

Kara watches stunned as she extends her hand and engages in a sort of handshake with the man– palms, backs, and a fist bump top and bottom. Clearly, Lena is more than familiar with the man. Kara’s gaze darts back and forth between them, taking in Lena’s easy smile and the man’s eager countenance, which had yet to dim even when he turned his gaze to Kara.

“Yo,” Gonzales says with a grin. “When Jess said you stopped by the bar with a new lady friend, I knew she must have been a looker, but damn, Sarge–”

“Watch your mouth, Corporal.”

Kara steps up to introduce herself. “Sergeant, huh?” she says, smirking. Lena has yet to return to the subject of her time in the service, so Kara is thrilled to have even just her rank. “Who’d’a thunk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gonzales confirms. “The sergeant here was the best damn medic in the company. Saved our unit’s ass more than a couple times.” He rolls forward a few inches to offer a handshake. “Hector Gonzales, ma’am. Pleasure to meet one of the Sarge’s lady friends.”

“Police Sergeant Kara Danvers,” Kara returns. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Corporal.”

The man waves her off. “Please, it’s just Hector or Gonzales now. Gotta get used to the civvie life now. Right, Sarge?”

Lena rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure.”

“You said you’re Jess’ brother?” Kara briefly scans Gonzales and notes an above the knee amputation and a serious burn scar on his right arm that stretched from his wrist to disappear under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Hector nods enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!” He shoots a bright look towards Lena. “Did she tell you she got early admission to NCU? Honors track.”

Lena beams. “No, she didn’t! That’s wonderful!”

“First choice and everything. She’ll be the first one in the family to go to college, you know.”

“What is she planning to study?” Kara asks.

Hector’s grin is infectious. “Art. Our mother wanted her to be a lawyer, because that girl argue like nothing else, but she's had her sights on art from the beginning. Sarge has seen some of her drawings, when she sent some to me overseas. Remember Sarge?”

Lena nods. “They were pretty amazing.”

Kara smiles, but a tug of sadness pulls at some of her joy for Jess. She’d almost gone to art school once. That had been the goal, before the shooting. After everything that happened… well, she hasn’t picked up a brush in a long time.

“Hey,” Hector says, pulling Kara’s attention back to the conversation. “I’m getting some friends together to watch the game next weekend. You guys should come!”

Kara has no idea what game he means, or even what sport, but Lena nods. “Yeah, shoot me the details and we’ll try to make it.”

“Wilco, Sarge. Oh! And you can invite any of your folks from the firehouse too. I can tell them how lucky they are to have you.”

Lena’s cheeks flush pink. “Gonzales, I swear to god–”

“Hector!” A young hispanic woman calls from further down the aisle. “You were supposed meet me at– oh!”

“Cecilia!” Hector waves at her, beckoning her closer. “C’mere, this is the Sarge!”

Cecilia’s go wide. “Oh! Sergeant Reilly! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Lena’s easy smile widens. “Uh oh,” she groans comedically. She reaches for Kara, drawing her forward into the conversation. “This is Kara.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Kara offers gamely. They exchange handshakes, with smiles all around. Kara revels in being included, but even more so in the sense that she’s being allowed a further glimpse into who Lena is.

Hector and Cecilia are sweet together. Hector is engaged and enthusiastic, while Cecilia is a little more reserved. But Lena converses easily, laughing and grinning, totally at ease in the presence of her fellow soldier. Eventually, Cecilia reminds Hector that they’re almost due to be somewhere else.

“Right, right,” Hector nods. He prepares to roll away, but pauses to peg Lena with a stern gaze. “Game, next weekend. You’ll tell your crew?”

Lena nods with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Good catching up, Gonzalez. Take it easy.”

“You too, Sarge! Rolling out!”

Lena watches them head off, then turns back towards Kara with a chagrined roll of her eyes. Her mouth opens, but Kara cuts her off. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she warns. “He was delightful.”

“Yeah,” Lena agrees. “He’s a good guy. Him and Jess both. They’re good eggs.”

“And besides, anyone who adores you like he does is definitely good in my book.”

This time, Lena’s roll of her eyes are directed at Kara. “Ah yes. Remind me to not let you two in a room alone. Who knows what shenanigans you’d get into–”

Suddenly a cry further down the aisle breaks through the buzz of people. Without conscious thought, or even a look between them, Kara and Lena both begin to push towards the call. Breaking through the circle already starting to form, they find a young woman seizing on the ground.

Lena immediately kneels beside her, smoothly untying her flannel and folding it as a pillow to pad the woman’s head against the pavement. “Calling a bus,” Kara says briefly, already pulling her phone out to dial.

“Hold up,” Lena calls, her voice firm with easy authority. “Got a medical alert bracelet here.” She flips the silver tag to read the inscription, then nods to herself. “No ambulance. Known condition.”

Kara nods her acknowledgement, pocketing her phone as she crouches. “What do you need?”

“Some water would be good, if you can find it.”

“On it,” Kara confirms, rising back to her feet. But the time she returns with a bottle of water from a nearby vendor, the girl’s seizing has stopped. She answers Lena’s questions with slurred, mumbling responses, but Lena doesn’t look concerned.

“Okay, Lydia, you’re doing great. Just take your time.”

Kara kneels to one knee, handing over the bottle of water. “Any chance she hit her head?”

“I’ll evaluate once she’s a little more with it. So far nothing concerning.” She glances towards the lingering crowd. “Could you get us some space?”

The remaining onlookers moved on once Kara started waving them away, assuring them the situation was handled. When the last resume their shopping, Lydia is blinking up at Lena with eyes rapidly sharpening with focus.

“Welp. That’s embarrassing,” she delivers drolly, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“There you are,” Lena says, gently giving Lydia’s shoulder a pat. “Lydia, my name is Lieutenant Riley with the National City Fire Department. Do you feel ready to sit up? I’ve some water here I’d like you to sip.”

Lydia manages to sit upright with only a little bit of an assist from Lena. She accepts the open water bottle with both hands, which tremble as they lift the water to her lips. She takes several long gulps before groaning.

“Do you mind if I check your head for bumps?” Lena asks. “We want to make sure you didn’t hit your head on the way down.”

Lydia nods her consent, and holds still as Lena begins to investigate the back of her head with expert fingers. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Lydia quips. When she catches Kara’s sympathetic gaze, she continues. “It’s still relatively new. My doctor says it should get better with medication, but… ugh! All I wanted was some asparagus!” She sighs. “At least I felt this one coming on– managed to sit down before it hit.”

Lena pulls away, placing her hands on her knees as she gives her patient a warm smile. “Well, I didn’t find any bumps or lumps, so it looks like that did the trick. Good thinking.”

“Oh god,” Lydia groans. “You didn’t call an ambulance, did you?”

“Nope.” Lena nods towards the girl’s wrist. “Medic alert did its job.”

“Thank goodness,” Lydia sighs in relief. “I seriously can not afford another trip.”

Lena chuckles, rubbing Lydia’s back. “I can imagine. How do you feel about trying to stand? I’d feel better if we got you to some shade.”

She gives Lydia a hand up, who seems steady on her feet. Once satisfied the girl wasn’t about to keel over, Lena nods towards a small patch of trees. “How about that bench over there?”

Kara hovers, adrift without a way to help. She carries hers and Lena’s bags of goodies along with her as they all move towards the bench.

“How are you feeling?” Lena checks in once they’re seated.

Lydia pauses, taking stock. “Just tired, I think. Always feel like I got hit by a freight train, but it usually goes away.” She glances at Lena. “You guys seriously don’t have to stay.”

“I’d feel better if we did. Just until you feel well enough to finish up and get yourself home.”

“Okay.” Lydia stares at the open water bottle resting on her thigh, then looks back to Lena. “You said you were a firefighter?”

“And medic,” Kara offers, unable to keep quiet. Lena’s eyes flash at her, but in affection or irritation, Kara can’t tell.

Lydia’s eyes spark with interest. “I want to go to med school after undergrad. I don’t know what discipline yet, though.”

Kara listens to them converse for several minutes, propping herself up against the nearest tree. Closing her eyes against the sun, she breathes deep the smell of spring blossoms and fresh cut grass, letting the hum of their voices lull her to a state between waking and sleeping. Well, maybe more asleep than not, considering the bench is empty when she next blinks her eyes open. Lydia is nowhere to be found, and Lena is sitting on the ground beside her, scrolling through her phone.

“You could have woken me up,” Kara gripes half-heartedly.

“But it’s such a nice day to lean against a tree,” Lena returns, half teasing.

Kara reaches over until she finds Lena’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Neither of them move to rise.

“You were amazing just now.”

Lena merely shrugs. “Anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“We both know there aren’t many people who can do what you do.”

A hum answers her, but Lena refrains from saying anything else. Kara bites back a frown. She knows Lena doesn’t feel comfortable sharing anything about her time overseas as a combat medic– not entirely unexpected. Some of Kara’s veteran coworkers feel the same. And not all first responders respond well to positive recognition, which isn’t uncommon in the first responder community either. But Kara can’t shake the feeling in her gut that she heard a note of shame in Lena’s voice.

Whatever it is, Kara resolves to know it better, no matter how long it takes.

“Wanna get out of here?” Lena asks quietly. “I think I hear a steak dinner calling your name.”

Kara grins, but closes her eyes and leans her head against the tree behind her once more. “Just a few more minutes.”

She hears Lena smile, then a rustle as Lena leans back as well.

A good day indeed.

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #the farmers market episode #they're lesbians harold

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bunnys-kisses · 7 days

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the jailbird

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

a full fic based on this post

cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!

it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.

you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.

that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.

but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.

the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.

you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.

you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.

simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.

he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.

you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.

the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.

he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.

he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."

he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.

simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.

"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."

simon remembered everything.

the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.

"i want to be what you get ready to."

"i want to be with you when you wake up."

"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."

you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.

and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.

you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!

it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.

and then you saw him.

those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.

you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."

he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."

you beamed up at him, "of course, si."

"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."

you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.

but tonight was just going to be the two of you.

you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.

you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.

"si."

"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.

your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.

he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.

you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.

you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.

it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.

you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.

after everything, you had your man.

he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.

you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."

"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.

you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.

"are you alright, love?"

"golden."

the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.

you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.

"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."

you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.

he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."

you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.

the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.

you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.

he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.

you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.

he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.

you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."

he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."

part two

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httpsclarye · 7 months

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#GOOD LOKING+!

Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.

Ao3: Good Looking

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!

You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.

Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.

Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.

“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.

Barechested. Topless. Half naked.

“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”

You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.

“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”

"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.

“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”

“I could not sleep”

“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”

“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”

You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.

You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?

“Are you and Luffy close then?”

The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.

“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”

“I remember that. You were so naive”

Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…

“Not anymore.”

He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.

“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.

You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.

He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.

“What dear? See something you lik-”

You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.

“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”

He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.

You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.

His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.

“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”

You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.

”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”

He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.

You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.

You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.

“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”

You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.

His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.

"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”

You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.

“My love, you are so perfec-“

A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.

“I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.

He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.

You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.

“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.

He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.

Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?

You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.

“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”

It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.

“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”

You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.

He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.

He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.

He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.

"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”

You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.

“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“

He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.

In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.

He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.

You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.

“Sanji, p-please more”

"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.

It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.

"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”

The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.

“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”

It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.

Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.

He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”

Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.

“Do you think anyone heard?”

“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”

“Next time, huh?

Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.

"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”

"And you should go shirtless more often too.”

"Only for you, my love.”

You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.

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empresskylo · 7 months

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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water.

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go.

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep.

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained.

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves.

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly.

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that.

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price.

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon.

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building.

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this.

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair.

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in.

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing.

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream.

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall.

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing.

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought.

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind.

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound.

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone.

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you.

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic.

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering.

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack.

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell.

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him.

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat.

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan.

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body.

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you.

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare.

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them .

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came.

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise.

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in.

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before.

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction.

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself.

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory.

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support.

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time.

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin.

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time.

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful.

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life.

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well.

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you.

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements.

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all.

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast.

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever?

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him.

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aireia · 2 months

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pretty. — shopping for your wedding gown went a little wrong.

tw/cw: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, fluff/crack, reader wears a dress + satoru calls them his future wife —masterlist

you smile and place your palms under your chin, wondering how you got to this point. your snowy haired fiancé is currently twirling around with a custom tailored wedding gown… which he wasn’t going to be wearing on your wedding day anyway, because he would never hear the end of it from his first year trio. okay, yuji probably wouldn’t have said anything, but nobara and megumi would bully him out of his own wedding. without a doubt, 100 percent.

your mind tried running through the events that had unfolded over the past two weeks, finally stopping at where everything started.

“pretty.”

those were the only words that satoru gojo had to say the moment the both of you had found the perfect wedding dress for you. detailed right down to the final bits of the dress, it matched you perfectly with your favourite flowers weaved into the design, just the perfect length… it was everything you were looking for.

the sound of your soft laughter brought him out of his awestruck expression. “thank you, but as much as i love it, it feels just a little uncomfortable.” you sounded a little disappointed, and satoru couldn’t help but notice every little shift and movement you made… especially that mischievous look in your eyes and grin plastered on your face the moment you thought of a ‘solution.’

“maybe you should be the one in a dress at our wedding. i’m sure the strongest can handle a little bit of discomfort.”

now, you and gojo had known each other for probably more than a decade. he knew better than anyone else that you were joking. but you were basically challenging him with that last sentence, right?

he abruptly stood up from the couch he was sitting on once you had gotten to changing out of the wedding gown before marching off to one of the nearby employees and asking about any dresses his size, only to be met with the response of, “this is an unusual request, but there are quite a few dresses that would compliment you-” the employee coughed a few times before continuing, “-but we are closing soon, so there might not be enough time to try them on-”

“i'll take all of them.”

“pardon?”

“including the one my future wife chose. okay thanks!”

the total came up to about 1.2 million yen. for a dress for you and those 3 gowns the employee picked out, it horrified everyone present at the counter. everyone but him, of course.

back to present time, that’s how you found yourself being the one and only audience member for your beloved’s fashion show. for a good reason, you wanted to chew him out for spending that recklessly. then again, this is the same guy who decides to buy two of the same items no matter how expensive it is “just in case the other one goes missing.”

you sigh softly before turning your attention back onto him. he’s currently trying on the final dress, and has finally got rid of the sunglasses. you can’t help but admit that he actually looks good in the dress, sparkling with all the right types of gems and jewels, paired with his now visible long eyelashes, he looks pretty.

“so? how do i look!!?” satoru asks with enthusiasm, spinning around you in circles.

“hmm, maybe i should be the one wearing your suit that day instead,” you jokingly say to him. he understood, laughing before ruffling your hair.

“as if i’d let you.” a comfortable silence filled the air afterwards, being broken afterwards by satoru confessing, “i dream of seeing you wearing that in front of me at the altar, you know?”

your eyes at this. you weren’t expecting him to say something like that so sudden.

“i can wear it at night when-” satoru’s sentence was cut off by a light punch to his gut.

“hell no.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

@rninies still can't write fluff unfortunately, writing this fried my brain

#signed by aireia!#gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader

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bookofbonbon · 3 months

Text

green is not your colour (1) - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warning: Implied cheating.

Summary: You've been engaged to Coriolanus Snow for a few short weeks and have been living together for even shorter but, the betrothal is put through its first test when Coriolanus's affair makes itself known. Part (1/2).

Wordcount: 1.3k.

A/N: This takes place in the 'You Keep Him There' universe. A couple of months before Christmas Kiss. Please tell me you catch the Yellowstone reference.

11 months ago.

The stone bench cuts into the skin of your exposed thigh, one leg crossed over the other as your arm rests along the back of the garden seat. Goosebumps cover the length of your body; remnants of last night’s cold snap are still evident as the icy blanket that covers the Manor’s grounds slowly melt away with the slow rising sun.

Of course, the cold was of no concern. Not when you had your new found habit to keep you warm.

Taking a drag from the lit cigarette between your fingers, your gaze is unwavering as you stare down the anxious chauffeur who had pulled into the driveway of your new home at the same time that you did - belonging neither to you or Coriolanus.

It had taken you all of 30 seconds to piece together what was going on and who the car belonged to - after all, you weren’t supposed to be home until the afternoon. You aren’t surprised Coriolanus would do this but, it doesn’t make it hurt any less; doesn’t temper the green eyed monster threatening to rear its ugly head.

Sure, you didn’t like him but, the two of you had known each other your entire lives; would marry in less than a year, he belonged to you- you'd hoped those things would at least mean something to him too but, it doesn’t and again, that doesn’t surprise you but, you are disappointed. Disappointed that he would bring this into your home.

The chauffeur fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves, unsure of where to look as his gaze shifts nervously between you and the front doors until finally, they open and he relaxes slightly, eager to escape the weight of your stare as he wrenches the car door open for his passenger.

You watch, hidden from their view as she emerges from your home, bidding farewell to your fiance. Crushing the cigarette, you wait until she’s about to enter the car to make your presence known.

“I always suspected there may be something more between the two of you but, to become his mistress?” You stand, making your way over to her.

Stopping a metre out, you drag your gaze lazily over her figure until you meet her own surprised one.

“My, my, Clemensia, I never expected that from you,” you tut. “Although, I won’t lie. After your… stint in the hospital back in our academy days, I didn’t think he’d ever look at you again.”

She flinches at your words but it doesn’t keep her down for long. The red-eyed, puffy-cheeked beauty straightening her back and puffing her chest with an air of arrogance that you did not appreciate.

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” you repeat, laughing at the nerve of her. “Clemensia, this is my house. I can come and go as I please but, you? Well, we are going to have a problem if I see you around here again.”

"You can't stop me. He was mine first."

You take an intimidating step closer.

“You want to sleep with Coriolanus? Fine. That’s your choice but, not in my house. Affairs are for hotels not homes, and if you ever step foot in mine again, I will make sure you never take another step again. Got it?”

She swallows thickly but nods her understanding.

"Good. Now get off of my property before, I have you removed from it."

You don’t wait for her to go, sights immediately set on the fool you were to take as your husband in less than a year.

“Coriolanus,” you yell, throwing the doors open, anger finally revealing itself. “Coriolanus!”

You find him sitting at the head of the dining table, looking equally as surprised as his whore to see you. Unlike her however, he’s quick to hide it.

“When did you-”

“You keep your whores out of my house, Coriolanus,” you warn him. “You keep your whores out of my house or I will teach you a lesson that I promise you will never forget.”

You spend the rest of the day sleeping, too tired from the morning's events and traveling to do anything else but rest, so it’s dark out by the time you leave your room.

Padding down the staircase, your tummy makes its hunger known, growling out for anyone awake to hear. Sleepily, you make your way to the kitchen, not noticing the dim light emitting from the space until you're already inside with an unwanted guest.

You look at him for a moment, thinking about whether to tuck tail and turn away or continue on your journey for food- your stomach makes your decision for you however, when it growls again.

Coriolanus is the first to speak. “There's a plate in the fridge for you.”

You don’t acknowledge him, opening the fridge in silence and indeed finding the plate of food inside. You pretend he’s not there as you move around the kitchen to warm your food up. When everything is ready, you take a seat at the kitchen bench- it’s then that Coriolanus decides to speak again.

“I think we should talk about this morning.”

“We have,” you answer him, tone clipped. “And I told you not to bring your whores into my house again.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

You breathe a laugh of disbelief. Was it not enough to discover what you did this morning now, he wanted to discuss it too? Picking up your plate, you make to leave- there were other rooms in this place that you could eat peacefully in.

“It’s over-” he follows after you, blocking your path. “Me and Clemmie. I ended things with her.”

“Clemmie,” you scoff the name. “How very considerate of you. Does she know that?”

“She does and I didn’t end it because of what happened this morning- I ended things weeks ago. She’s just having a hard time letting go but, I promise it is. I’m with you.”

You pause- pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You should’ve ended it months ago, well before we even got engaged.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

You nod but don't forgive him and he uses your silence to keep talking.

“I want to make this work, I want us to get along, I want-” he hesitates, taking your free hand. “I want you to like me.”

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“You made it very clear in the Academy that you don’t, I doubt your opinion of me has changed much since.”

You smile bitterly down at your joined hands. Your dislike for Coriolanus in school differed vastly from why you disliked him now.

You wonder if it would ever be possible to like Coriolanus Snow now.

It was hard to see the possibility when your entire being now depended on marrying him. Your grandparents had already loved him, he was Old Guard, cut from the same cloth and as he got older, they saw the future in Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panem. And that was before the proposal was even brought to them. Once it was… they would be damned if you married anyone else. When you attempted to go against it, they had made it known that they were more than willing to reduce you to nothing; taking steps to ensure you couldn’t refuse by hinging your inheritance of the Blizzard Telecommunications and Mass Media Empire and wealth on marrying him. Coriolanus Snow had snatched any freedom or hope for the future you envisioned for yourself away from you and he didn’t even know it.

Maybe one day you’d move past it or maybe one day he'd accept that you never would but, for now you settle for “maybe you can start with buying me a new house.”

Coriolanus chuckles but you're being serious and he agrees, "soon."

“And Coriolanus?”

“Yeah?”

“I don't ever want to see you with Clemensia Dovecote again. I don’t take kindly to those who you would threaten to take what is mine. Green is not my colour and, I promise you won’t like seeing me in it either.”

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coryo x reader #tom blyth

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forgeofthenine · 5 months

Note

Omg in the last few posts you were talking about heat as in temperature but my brain registered it as something COMPLETELY different and it got me thinking…

What if tieflings had some kind of a heat cycle and they get extra sensitive and desperate because of it?? I can imagine Zevlor and Rolan being super embarrassed or nervous to bring it up, maybe Dammon’s more chill about it but still extra needy

So, this has absolutely been a passing thought in my mind and as soon as this request came in I knew I just had to push it to the front of my request queue, purely for my own mental health lol

Gotta admit, I'm a fan of omegaverse dynamics and I actually looked a little into irl animal biology and mating behaviour to get a better feel for what I think tieflings would be the most like. So this has both general headcanons and some NSFW headcanons for the individual bachelors

You probably didn't expect quite this much (over a thousand words of tief content) when requesting but this had me in a chokehold, I hope everyone enjoys <3

TW: NSFW under the cut, very heavy breeding kink, overstimulation, alpha/omega adjacent dynamics

Tiefling NSFW heat and rut headcanons

General

So, I feel like once all tiefs reach sexual maturity they'll start to either have heats or ruts, depending on their biology

Anyone with female biology will have a heat, and I feel like they'd have heats similar to cats but with a slightly longer time between heats

So generally they'd have a heat every two to three months or so unless they're pregnant or have other health issues

For the ones with male biology they'd definitely have a rut

They'd follow similar patterns to the women, but it's not unusual for some tieflings to have longer stretches between their ruts if they don't have a partner

A single tiefling that isn't particularly sexually active might only go into rut once or twice a year

I do think a male tiefling could prematurely go into rut if exposed to a females heat, and couples that have been together for a while will sync up

They have pretty typical heat and rut behaviours with nesting, possessiveness, and a pretty undeniable breeding kink

Nesting, possessiveness, and general mood shifts tend to start setting in during pre-heats and pre-ruts

Pre-heats and pre-ruts can last two to five days, and a full heat and rut can last anywhere from two days to a full week depending on the individual

In saying that, having a partner can definitely shorten both heats and ruts, so single tieflings working through things by themselves will have longer heats or ruts

Heats and ruts can also become more painful the longer they go on without the relief of a sexual partner

Tieflings can tell when others are in heat and rut mostly through pheromones, but a female tieflings tail will also involuntarily lift when she's in pre-heat/heat and around a male

I wonder if I should go so far as to headcanon that they have knots, I did already give them all ridged dicks

Dammon

If you and Dammon aren't dating then he'll be much more shy about his ruts

He basically disappears from his forge and the public for a few days and then comes back as if nothing happened

Once you start dating him is when you find out why he pulls the disappearing act

Dammon is actually very open about it now you're both together and have already been intimate

Blushes slightly while trying to explain some of the more physical, primal aspects

Would flush even more if you tell him you find the whole thing incredibly attractive

The next time he has his rut, you're the only person allowed to see him, and he really is a sight

Naked and tangled in his sheets, all flushed and tense, undeniably hard as he palms himself while looking over at you

Even the way he strips you of your clothing is different, he just about rips it off you as he kisses and nips down your neck and chest

While Dammon is usually one to take his time with making you feel good when he's in rut the only thing on his mind is getting to cum

Though even in his hazy mind frame he still makes sure you're comfortable the whole time

Even a near sex crazed and highly hormonal Dammon is still a very caring partner

You know he's going to bend you in half as he fucks you, he just loves how good you look underneath him like that

Breeding kink go brrrr

This man always fucks like he's trying to breed you but it's off the charts when he's in rut

I hope you're ready to be fucked within an inch of your life because his refractory period ceases to exist

Absolutely watches as he pulls out of you and some of him cum leaks out because he's stuffed you so full

Dammon praises you so well too, you can not shut up this man and his dirty talk

"That's it gorgeous, you take my cock so well."

"You gonna make me a daddy, darling? 'm gonna knock you up, full you up with my cum."

Once his rut dies down enough, he'll scoop you up for a bath

There is no way you could stand after the way this man just wrecked you-

Dammon takes very good care of you, and then you do it all again the next day

Zevlor

Whether you're dating Zevlor or not, he's your personal wealth of knowledge on everything tiefling

So what do you do when a book you read mentions 'the times of year and conditions unique to tieflings' and doesn't explain it?

You go and find your favourite paladin

Zevlor is so embarrassed, dating or not, explaining to you how tiefling heats and ruts work

Can't even keep his eyes on you

When you two are dating and you realise you didn't see him at all yesterday, it's time to go hunting for the man

You have an idea of what might be going on but nothing prepares you for what you find

Much like Dammon, you find him tangled in his bed sheets desperately trying to get himself off

He lets out the sexiest groan when he sees you standing there

He's the gentlest of the three while working through his rut

Even then, Zevlor is noticeably rougher with you than usual

Has you in a missionary position, his whole body pressed to yours as he pants in your ear and thrusts into you

Zevlor can't keep his hands off you when he's in rut, they're all over your hips and chest and giving light tugs to your hair

He gives into the primal need to mark you too, it's the only time he'll give you hickeys

Breeding kink: the sequel

Absolutely tells you he's going to breed you, and fucks you like he means it

Doesn't even think as he uses his hands and tail to spread your legs so he can fuck you deeper

Zevlor loves to look at the way you tremble every time he fills you with cum, using his fingers to help you get off at the same time

Even while he's trying to find his own relief, he makes sure to make you cum so many times you end up overstimulated and about to cry from the pleasure

Definitely has you cockwarm him as the two of rest, the thought of you keeping his seed so deep in you until it takes just gets him going again

You'll know he's ready for another round when Zevlor starts grinding himself into you again

When the worst of his rut is over he gives you the best massages

Apologises so profusely too the first few times you help him through his rut, even if you tell him how much you like it

Rolan

There is no way Rolan is ever telling you anything about heats and ruts

Absolutely forbidd his siblings from mentioning it too, he's just way too embarrassed for you to know

Even when you guys are dating he just locks himself away in his tower for a week while he works through it and recovers

This man will not tell you anything

And then he forgets to lock the door

As soon as you open it you're met with the sight of a whiney, teary eyed Rolan trying to get off by grinding against a pillow in desperation

Unlike with the other two, there's no clear 'top' when you're with Rolan during his rut

He loves having you ride him until he sees stars just as much as he wants to bend you over his desk until everyone else in Ramaziths tower can hear you scream

Rolan loves hearing you when he's in rut

Yell his name, tell him that you belong to him, tell him how good he fucks you, say he looks so pretty when you ride him-

He loves all of it so much

He's also the one that bites you the hardest, expect him to draw at least a little bit of blood by accident

Breeding kink: the trilogy

Rolan isn't letting you leave the room unless he's knocked you up

Absolutely puts a fertility spell on you by brushing his hand over your lower belly and murmuring the words

He also refuses to pull out unless it's to change positions, and if any cum leaks out of you he'll push it back in with his fingers

Overstimulation is the name of the game with Rolan, he wants you both overstimulated and crying and completely fucked out

This man believes in equality and we love him for it

The youngest of the tiefling bachelors and definitely the most pent up, it'll take all day before he calms down enough for the two of you to rest

When things do calm down, after he makes sure you're both clean and fed, Rolan wraps you up with him in his bed and will read to you

It's his own personal flavour of aftercare, cuddling and reading your favourite book as he makes sure you're comfortable and happy

And it all starts over when you wake up the next morning with him hard as a rock against your ass

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hazashiovo · 2 months

Note

hii i was wondering if it was possible if you could do a korra x earthbender fem reader who is lin’s daughter?? thank you so much!! 🫶🫶

Ooo ,yes ofc <3

The best view

"Stop staring." You words cut the thick silence in the room.

"I'm sorry,I just never expected Beifong to have a kid." She crosses her arms, looking you up and down. You scoff anoyed at her rude staring. "So? It doesn't mean I'm a painting so you can stare at me." You roll your eyes."Like mother like daughter." She mumbles,loud enough for you to hear her.

"I could never be like my mother." Her eyes follow you figure as you walk towards her. The girl then continues,"How come you're not in uniform?"her gaze eyes you up and down. "I'm not a police officer." You speak, making eye contact with her. "I just thought that if she had a kid, she would want you to work with her or something." She tilts her head looking at you. "She did,It was me who didn't want to."you slump down on the couch.

"I saw you bend,and I think you're pretty strong." Her body remains standing. "My bending is not the problem." You leave out a small smile at her compliment.

"Then what is it?" Before you could say anything, Lin enters the room. "Chief," your gaze follows Lin's.

"I have a matter to discuss with the two of you." Lin's gaze moves from you to the girl.

"I mean,that's the whole point why you got me here.* The dark haired girl shrugs,sitting down on the couch.

"(Name) ,I want to introduce you to Korra,the avatar." You look at the girl with furrowed brows. "She's...the avatar?" You tilt your head,how could she be the avatar? She looks fine or whatever,but you imagined her to be something... different?

"Of course I'm the avatar! Who else would it be?" She chuckles at your confused expression,Lin continues. "Yes,and you will show her around Republic city,and make sure nothing happens to her." Lin commands, staying strong in her uniform, a fierce look on her face (like usual dare I say).

Your brows remain furrowed, "Why would you trust me with this task?" Your arms now crossed, suspicious of her trust in you.

"The two of you are close to age,and since you're my daughter,I trust you make sure nothing happens to Korra." Her words take you by surprise,you nod, smiling you nod. "Nothing will happen to the Avatar in my presence,I promise." You feel so proud,she finally has something important for you to do.

"I don't need protection,I'm the avatar? remember?" Korra crosses her arms.

"And I'm the Chief in this town ,and if you want to walk freely in my town you will do so with my daughters protection." Lin narrows her eyes at Korra.

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself!" Her defiant nature amuses you.

"if you wish to remain in Republic City you will obey my rules. End of story." Your mother slams her hand on the table, clearly done with the girl's comments.

"Fine! Whatever." Korra ends up leaving the room, allowing you and your mother to be alone.

"This girl..." She sighs,sitting down on the couch facing the one you're on.

"Working with her will be a challenge." You joke, earning another sigh from your mother.

"You're a big girl,I know you're capable or I would have assigned you for her." You smile at her (sort of?) compliment.

"I'll do my best." Earns a nod from Lin.

You warmed up to her rather quickly,and the other way around. Turns out she's a pleasant company to be around.

For the next few weeks you spend time with Korra,even getting to know her better, sharing a few things about yourself.

Besides the fact that she's a little cocky (a little more) Korra is a great person to be around.

"So tell me! how was it being raised by Beifong? Is she always like that? Did she want you to take after her?" You smile at her curiosity, "Sometimes, but as a child she never implied I become a soldier,like her" the memories bringing a nice warmth in your chest.

"My mother would sometimes take me outside of Republic City, we would hike for hours to get to the most breath taking view I could see as a child." Korra watches your expression, she must admit,you're very pretty.She finds herself staring at you quite often,but she can't figure out why you're so captivating.

Once you lock eyes with her she forgets anything she wanted to say before,just staring at your face.

"Republic city is boring,I know a place you would like." You smile,taking her hand in yours, passing by many streets.

She looks at you confused as you tell her to hold on.

The earth beneath your feet started rising up,until you decided it was enough.

You started walking deeper and higher to a place only you knew.

"Where are we going (Name)?" She speaks between chuckles.

"You'll see,just trust me." You look back at her ,winking.

Her face is slightly warm to touch,Korra follows after you,passing by trees and going higher up a hill.

If she wasn't so busy watching your body instead of the place you were leading her too she would have noticed the view already.

"Were here!" Your voice brings her back,gaze moving away from your body ,now focusing on her surroundings.

Hands still entangled you stop , letting go of her hand. Her eyes fall on her now empty hand, slightly disappointed.

"Korra,look." She follows your voice, gaze falling on the breath taking view in front of her.

Your hand takes hers,leading her next to you on the grass.

"It's beautiful,isn't it?" She looks at you, analyzing your face ,reading its expressions like it's an open book for her to learn from.

"It is." Your eyes meet,locked on each other. Your hands entangled on the grass, the looks shared between the two of you speak like no words ever could.

She leans in,one hand now cups your cheek,her skin is so soft..

"Korra I..." You struggle to find the right words,mind clouded by the thought of her and only her. Fortunately there is no need for words,not now.

Her eyes scan your face for any kind of resistance,any kind of hesitance,but there's none in sight.

Her lips crash into yours in a soft ,loving kiss.

Korra's hands are cuping your cheek, while yours are around her waist. Fingers gently rubbing the material on her skin.

The kiss lasts a few seconds,but it feels like time stopped.

You move away from Korra's lips, smiling while looking at her bright blue eyes.

"I just kissed Beifong's daughter." You laugh softly at her words,placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"The avatar kissed me." You grin,noticing her proud smile.

"And I'd do it again."

Took me a little to search for a plot ,but here it is. Hope you like it ;).

Depending on the attention this fic is getting,maybe I will make a part two.

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sturnsdoll · 20 days

Text

SWEETER THAN CANDY -`♡´- - C.S

idea creds

pairing: chris x fem reader

summary: chris finds a rather creative way to teach you patience.

warnings: smut obvi, swearing, (very little) plot, light bondage, candy g-string, oral (f recieving), heavy teasing, dom!chris, sub!reader, orgasm denail, begging, degrading, praise, slight dumbification, cum eating(??), back scratching (?), choking

word count: 2,332

authors note: hope you enjoy ♥

"orange" = chris "pink" = reader

your boyfriend chris had been busy all day with filming with his brothers, shopping, a meeting for his brand and what felt like a million other things.

one of those million other things had been him trying to keep you from losing your mind waiting for him to be free. you hadn't seen your boyfriend in a few days and the impatience of wanting not only his love, but his touch, was driving you to insanity.

text after text, call after call. chris was sick of telling you he'd be free at 12 and that you just needed to be patient.

it was currently 12:05 and chris was filming a car video with nick and matt. his phone buzzes for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

you toss your phone down next to you with a sigh.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

1:07 AM

half asleep, you're finally in the triplets parking lot to pick up chris so you can bring him back to your place. after a few long minutes of waiting you look to the passenger side of your car, spotting chris heading over.

when he enters the car, there's a bit of a slam to the way he closes the door but you choose to ignore it. you smile brightly at chris "feels like i've been waiting forever for you i-" "do you still have the thing i got from the store last week?"

you're confused by the question and a little taken aback that he didn't greet you. although there's a glint of mischief in his eyes that makes you clench your thighs. "no hi? hello? chris i've been waiting all day.." you go to wrap your arms around his neck but he grabs both your wrists. "wrong. you've been an impatient brat all day. now is it still here or not?"

it takes you a minute to even think of what the hell he's reffering to. that's when you remember chris had bought a candy g-string at the store last week when his brothers hadn't been watching the two of you. you thought it was more of a joke that he had gotten it though, not really expecting to use it.

your eyebrows knit together in confusion. you look at where his fingers are wrapped around your wrists before looking up at in hiw eyes again "yea, it's on the backseat still chris but i-" he cuts you off again, not wanting to hear it. "good. go find somewhere private to park. better be close though" "seriously? what's wrong with you?"he drops your wrists and gives you a dead serious look. "now." the tone of his voice makes you decide to put the car in drive.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you found an empty parking lot out back of a closed fast food place. the whole drive there chris's hand squeezed at your thigh harshly and anytime you tried to ask what his problem was he'd just tell you to keep your mouth closed and drive. which you did.

now that you were here, you opened your mouth to question his antics but he didn't let you get the chance. that angry yet needy look glosses over his eyes again "get in the back n' put it on" he says with a quick hand motion toward the backseats. you raise your eyebrow at him ready to protest but he wasn't having it. "do i need to repeat myself baby?"

you pause for a second before shaking your head no and doing as you were told.

now, only in your cropped t-shirt and the candy garment, you watch curious and nervous as chris removes his belt. "hands above your head" he commands and you listen. he brings your wrists behind the head of the car seat, binding them together with his belt.

"i think.." chris starts as he moves to his knee's infront of you "that for whatever fucking reason" he spreads your legs "you think it's okay to start acting out when you don't get what you want when you want it" his tone gets you wetter than you already were. you can't help the smile that spreads on your face at the satisfaction of having gotten the rise out of your boyfriend that you were hoping for. if only you knew how much you'd regret it only a few minutes from now.

chris catches the sly little smirk on your face. this makes him smile back, only his is much more menacing. "oh you think you're getting what you want huh?" he says. you shrug, staring back at him smugly. "we'll see." he says, mocking your text from earlier before he his mouth latches onto your left thigh.

his mouth moves smoothly, leaving a small trail of purple marks up your thigh. when he gets to your candy covered cunt he hovers teasingly for a moment before switching to the other thigh. you sigh impatiently, earning a threatning glare from chris.

this time when chris makes it to your heat his teeth close in on a candy just above your clit, mouth is so close yet so far. he bites the candy before eating it excrutiatingly slowly. once he's done he flattens his tongue against the front of the candies, shortly giving you the smallest amount of pleasure as he drags it up to where the waistline of the g-string is.

his teeth latch onto another candy but this time he pulls back, bringing the candy clad garment away from you. he quickly releases his teeth from it, letting it snap back against you.

you jump a little at the unexpected sting. chris smirks at your reaction before his mouth goes for another candy that's sitting right over your clit again. "chris come on" you complain but he stays focused on consuming the little candies.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you squirm in the seat, wrists uncomfortably wriggling against his belt as he sucks on another candy, his lips just barely brushing where you need him. it's been almost ten minutes now and you're soaked and needy, clenching around nothing everytime his lips or tongue accidentally ghost you.

"chris m' sorry i need you please" you attempt to beg, pushing your hips toward his face. he wraps both his arms around your thighs to hold them down and apart. "should've thought about that before whining and complaining all day hm?" he taunts before his teeth grip another candy "n' stop squirming" he says through gritted teeth while he sucks on the sugary candy.

this goes for a couple more minutes before he pulls away to look up at your face. you look just about ready to cry from sexual frustration. he smirks as he rubs your thigh soothingly. "what do you want baby?" his hand snakes up to your waist to pull the candy string back and let it snap against your skin again. you wince before speaking "your mouth, fingers, anything. please" not caring how needy you sound you beg him desperately. over the candies, chris presses two fingers over your hole. the feeling of the cold candies against you instinctively makes you attempt to pull your hips back but there's really nowhere for you to go.

he wraps his fingers around the garment and pulls it to the side before his head dissapears between your thighs. he gives an experimental flick to your clit before diving in to suck and nibble on your sensitive bud.

you throw your head back, a nearly pornagraphic moan comes out at the pure relief. to make things easier for himself he gives a harsh tug to the part of the candied underwear he was holding, causing the string to snap. candy spills off most of the garment and it goes all over the floor of your car. you instinctively try to reach out to pick up the candies or somehow stop the mess but your wrists only strain against the material of his belt again. "chris!" you whine annoyidly.

you're quickly silenced by two fingers teasing your folds. wetness coats his digits without them even being in you. "did i really get you this worked up, sweetheart?" he asks before holding his fingers up to your mouth "open". you comply and are immedietly met with his fingers pressing down on your tongue."taste sweeter than candy don't you?" he asks rhetorically before unexpectedly latching his mouth back to your clit. you cry out when he adds his two fingers along with it.

his tongue switches between flicking, sucking and nibbling so often that you can't even keep up with what form of pleasure he's applying. his fingers pump in and out at an extremely rapid pace that makes your hips twitch. the windows are foggy and the air in the car is heavy from both your heavy breaths.

your mouth hangs open as incoherent words and whines spill. he lets your clit go with a wet pop. his fingers continue. he pulls his head back a little to watch the way your body reacts to him, the way your face contorts in pleasure. you're already clenching around his digits. his fingers push deeper and curl up into that one spot that makes your mind go numb. "mph- m' close" you mutter out between desperate whines. "yea? you wanna cum on my fingers?"

you open your mouth to say yes when suddenly he pulls his fingers out, shoving them in your mouth again. "suck" he tells you while simultaniously reaching up to release your wrists.

with glossy eyes you look at him and suck your juices off his fingers. once he retracts his fingers you pull him in by his shirt to press your lips to his. the kiss is full of tongue and teeth. needy. he climbs onto the seat next to you before adjusting you until you're beneath him. his hips press down into yours making you both whine. you push your hips toward his. he pulls his face back to look at you consideringly. looking at him through your lashes you reach between the two of you to massage his erection through his pants "please." your voice is needy but sweet. "yea? wanna be a good girl and let me fuck you?" he asks while moving to take his sweatpants off. you nod with a sickeningly sweet smile as he finishes removing his clothes.

once he's situated, he makes a point of dragging his tip teasingly along your folds. you go to complain but he knows you too well. "uh uh. remember what that mouth did to get you here in the first place" he reminds. "well techinically it wasn't my mouth since it started over text so- mph!" one hand covers your mouth as he uses the other to balance himself while he thrusts his length into you.

he watches you in awe as he slowly pulls back out "not another word out of you" his hips snap right back. everytime he fucks into you, you're crying out into his hand. his speed starts steady and slow but that lasts no longer than a minute before he's messily pounding into you. you wrap one hand around the wrist of his hand that covers your mouth. your other creates deep red marks down his back, nails dragging and grabbing for some kind of support.

at this point everything that comes from his mouth are all mindless filthy comments. "gonna- mm- make sure that i f-fuck the rest of that attitude outta y-you" he assures as he abuses your cervix repetitievly. clenching around his dick at his filthy words causes his head to drop, a moan slipping his lips. even when his pace is sloppy he doesn't dissapoint, continuing reaching deep inside you with every movement.

it's not long before your minds set on wanting to finish. you reach between the two of you to stimulate your clit but chris swats it away. one hand shutting you up still, he uses his other to rub fast circles on your sensitive bud. you whine and he does too from the way your nails dig deeper into his skin.

his thrusts become sloppier and his fingers work faster. you try to speak but between him fucking you and his hand over your mouth it's impossible. luckily for you he knows by the way your breath is becoming shallow that you're close.

"not until i say so" when his hips begin twitching he slides his hand from your mouth to your neck to steady himself. "jesus chris" you manage to whine as you drink in the air, still slightly restricted by his hand on your throat. your legs tense around his body and you both know you can't hold off much longer.

"you wanna cum sweetheart?" you nod, letting out a soft "yes" breathlessly. "then ask me. gotta make sure you've- mm fuck- learned your lesson" he looks in your eyes with a look of admiration at how pretty and fucked out you are for him. "wanna cum so bad, m' sorry for compla- ah oh god" you don't get to finish as he grabs under your knee and spreads you wider, managing to hit deeper inside you "i'm sorry for complaining, pleasee let me cum" you draw out the please in a innocently convincing way. "listen so well. go ahead"

as soon as you have his permission your lower stomach twists inside as your legs clench right around his waist. all it takes is one more thrust and you're dripping around his cock. chris curses out your name with a string of obsceneties as your orgasm triggers his. he makes sure you both completely ride out your highs before he pulls out and retracts his fingers from your poor clit.

you both take what seems like years to catch a normal pace to breath at. chris reaches to the floor, obtaining both your clothes. "shower when we get home?" chris asks you as he becomes aware of the sticky residue of both cum and candy left on your body.

"absaloutely."

(the plan wasn't for this to be that filthy idk what happened tbh but i'm not complaining if y'all aren't 😛 )

Tags: @ezziewinchester @sturnsblog @mattsrod @blue-for-percyjackson

#chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut #strnzslut #christopher sturniolo #sturnsdoll

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mayhemories · 1 year

Note

Hi could you possibly write Neteyam x reader?

- Reader is best friends with Kiri and has feelings for Neteyam

- Reader sees herself as ugly, undesirable and believes Neteyam sees her as a little sister

- Yet Neteyam loves her and respects her

- Sexual tension between Neteyam and reader. linger hands and sneaking glances

- Kiri notices and secretly sets them up one night

Best Friend's Brother

Oh Jesus Christ I loved writing every moment of this, but I kinda strayed away from your last point in the request, I'm sorry! I still hope it satisfies <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Just fluff, some lowkey spice. No minors, get outta here! Reader is insecure and self-conscious, Neteyam puts a stop to that rather quickly.

Words: 3.7k

Author’s Notes:

Neteyam is 19, reader is 18 but only a few months older than Kiri. Lo’ak and Kiri are roughly 17, moving on to 18. Lil Tuk girl queen is the same age as the movie because I will protect her childhood. How old even is she? 8? Maybe im a fake fan.

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Read below the cut:

High Camp provided so much warmth, love and safety for its people. You were not old enough to remember Hometree or the destruction of it. But you could not imagine living anywhere else but in the densely protected cave systems of the Hallelujah Mountains.

Everyone knows everyone, all the kids play together, live together, laugh together. The community that Olo'eyktan Jake Sully, and his mate, Neytiri had fostered here was against all odds.

Your mother was one of the most talented hunters in the clan, this love of hunting easily transferred to warmongering, alongside the leadership (or maybe the leashing of your mother’s bloodlust) from Neytiri and Toruk Macto. Neytiri and your mother grew up together, so closely. Neytiri never forgets her friends and knows every name and face of the clan. You couldn’t help but admire her for this. Your father, on the other hand, was an irreplaceable healer and herbalist. He worked alongside T’sahik Mo’at, training younger Na’vi who showed promise in interpreting the ways of Eywa’s medicinal signs. With your family’s connection to the Sully’s, it was impossible to avoid them, even if you wanted to.

You grew up with the Sully kids, being a year younger than Neteyam, their eldest, and only a few months older than Kiri and Lo’ak, the four of you would always be playing. Running through the majestic forests of Pandora, swimming through creeks, lakes and rivers, kissing the dirt as you rolled down hills into meadows of wildflowers. The older you got the closer you got to Kiri. The sister you’ll never have.

You loved your parents, you did, but they made it clear that one child was enough for them. Your father loved the Sully’s as you did, he thought with his entire heart that Jake was the best for the clan. He was Toruk Macto, after all. Your mother, however, made things harder. She loved Neytiri like a sister, and always wished for her happiness.

“I remember when Jake was like a baby, you know.” She would say at mealtimes, your father would have a small smile. You could do nothing but roll her eyes. “He was trouble maker, still is.” She was grumpy. You knew that she trusted Jake and saw him as a good Olo’eyktan, but the disdain grew from your friendship with his kids.

“His boys are the same, no different.” She would always say the same thing, with the same pointed look.

You and Kiri had just finished your rituals of womanhood the week prior. For the both of you finding a mate was expected. For Kiri, nothing was ever expected in terms of mateship. In fact it was almost the opposite.

“You never have to do something you don’t wanna do, Babygirl” Jake said, smoothing down Kiri’s wild hair. The two of you sat in the middle of the floor in the Sully’s tented home. Braiding beads into your songchords to commemorate the recent transition from child to adult.

“What about you, (y/n)?” Neytiri asked, watching the two young girls weave their cords, reminiscing on her own bead.

You sighed, knowing your parents had been pushing the topic for a while:

“What about Tsu-wey? Or, Marek or Teyk’ah?” Your mother said, rattling off the names of warrior boys, flinging her arms around, exasperated. You shook your head, you weren’t really interested in anyone.

Your father, always taking the approachable, personal angle, sat next to you, tucking your shoulders under his arm.

“What about Aäna? She’s a lovely girl-”

“Dad!” You shot up, crossing your arms over your chest, the blood rushing to your cheeks. “It’s not that Dad, I just don’t like anyone like that yet really.”

“You’ve got to work it out, (y/n),” Your mother said harshly, “Soon.”

“Uh no, no I haven’t really got anyone in mind.” You replied quietly.

“Ugh come on, lets scram.” Kiri said grabbing your wrist and practically marching you out of her family home.

“Ughh Kiri, I only just finished my chord-oof” Your complaints were quickly cut off as Kiri stobbed abruptly, your whole body coming in contact with her back. “You skxwang! What are you doing-”

“Brother.” Kiri chirps, cutting you off. Neteyam stood in the doorway, leaning against the timber frame, smirking. His braids fell around his face, his high cheekbones and delicate features seemed to play with the soft golden lighting of High Camp, his tail flicked subtly from side to side, amused.

“Sister, (y/n),” Neteyam replied, sounding almost bored. “Where are you two running off to?” his fingers fiddled with his waistband, running down to his songchord. You knew you were staring, tracking the motion of his large hands, rubbing each bead, shell, and stone in between his thumb and pointer finger. It was embarrassing, you couldn’t look away, and why should you? There was nothing inappropriate about the action. Just his large, capable hands and skilled fingers…

Oh Eywa, that is enough.

“None of your business, big brother,” Kiri said, teasing as she often did. You swore she only knew how to convey her thoughts through sarcasm and hints.

Neteyam chuckled, his fingers resting on his crossed arms once, more. Your plain eyes found his warm, deep ones, as he said:

“I think it’s my business where my girls run off to, no?” You knew he did not mean it the way your stupid little brain heard it, you know he meant it as a brother. Nothing more, nothing less. But god, you wished you were his girl. You always had, since you were twelve. All of a sudden, you woke up one day and Neteyam was cute. Cute turned into cool, cool gave way into hot, and hot turned into so incredibly sexy as you got older. And you stayed, well awkward and plain and not much to behold.

But, you could pretend, that was something you were good at. Rolling your eyes, you broke the contact with Neteyam, shoving Kiri with your shoulder and righting the way of the world, again.

“The meadow.” You said flatly.

Kiri wasn’t as much of an airhead as you seemed to think she was. She knew her best friend, and she knew her big brother. Neteyam was a loser, a goody-goody with a desperate need to be the perfect son, the perfect soldier. Around you, he became this swaggering popular guy that Kiri knew him not to be, really. Maybe around his stupid Ikran Rider friends. But never around Kiri, or Lo’ak or Tuk. He never bought that facade into their home, save for when you were in it.

You, on the other hand, Kiri knew you like the back of her hand. You were shy, sweet and just so obviously and painfully in love with Neteyam. She watched you watch him, and him in turn trying to memorise every freckle, scar and nick on your body.

Neteyam cleared his throat, embarrassed that Kiri had caught him, once again, stealing glances at her best friend.

“Just be home for dinner, before eclipse, yeah?” He questioned, the muscle upon his brow bone tilting slightly upward.

“Of course!” Kiri yelled out as the two of you ran off, hand-in-hand, giggling as you did so. Neteyam watched your retreating figures flee High Camp. Pulling his attention towards his own songchord, his most recent bead was longer than the others, a hollowed-out green gemstone, mottled with white and silver patterning. The one he chose for himself the year prior at his own ceremony, welcoming him into manhood. Neteyam smiled to himself, remembering the bead you had obviously chosen for your own ceremony, made from the same little green stone.

Neteyam didn’t know how much longer he could go on going like this. He felt like he was walking in circles, orbiting you, waiting for his gamut to eventually crash him into you. Sighing he opened the flap to his tented family home. Maybe it was time to ask Toruk Macto for advice.

The long grass of the meadow was a deep shade of green, almost the colour of seagrass. Its long strands waved in the breeze, tickling your face as you lay on your back, watching the clouds, birds and everything that called the clearing it’s home. You felt connected to the place, like you were in the lungs of the world, simply floating in the breath of Eywa.

Kiri sat at your feet in the long grass, facing you, but with her knees drawn close to her chest, playing with the end of her face-framing braids. She was thinking hard, hyperfocused on a thought that was so deep-rooted it took you multiple attempts to get her attention.

“What’s wrong my Kiri?” You asked, finally catching her eye-line, sitting up to mirror her position.

“Nothing is wrong, why would anything be wrong?” Kiri responded, trying to act nonchalant.

“Do not bullshit me, you penis face.” You say, pulling a smile out of her distracted figure while nudging her leg with your foot.

“You would be my sister if you mated Neteyam, you know that right?” She asked, like she didn’t say the craziest fucking sentence you’ve ever heard in the world.

All the air left your lungs at once, she may as well have punched you in the stomach. You were going to retch.

“What are you talking about!” You felt the blood rush to your face, fanning itself over your nose, cheeks, ears and shoulders. Your whole chest felt like Kiri had taken a flare to it. You couldn’t bear it, you felt hot all over. You covered your face with your shaking hands.

Oh, mother Eywa I will die here, I will die here of embarrassment and pass through to you.

“Don’t be stupid, I know you loooooove him,” She said stretching out her o’s as she so often did when teasing, she poked you a few times too, for good measure. “He obviously is pining for you too, you skxwang.”

Kiri was a tease, she was sarcastic and blunt and hilarious. But she was not mean. Which, is why you couldn’t work out why she was being mean to you now. About something so personal, too. You felt the hot tears start to form.

“Why are you being mean?” You asked softly, pulling your hands away from your eyes, to try and read her face.

Kiri was taken aback by how upset you were. She did not mean it to be mean, she was serious. She quickly took you in her arms, all jokes aside.

“Ma (y/n) why are you crying?” Kiri asked softly. You sniffled, letting the tears fall freely now.

“You know I love Neteyam, why would you tease me like that knowing it is like stones in my heart.” You began to ramble, as you so often did when you were emotional. “Neteyam sees me as his little sister, nothing more, nothing less.” You said seriously, vehemently. Lip quivering, you felt stupid and pathetic crying about it. But now that ball of thoughts had started to be unwound in your mind you could not stop, all the words you could not say since you were twelve just fell out of your little mouth. “And besides, if Neteyam didn’t see me as just a little annoying sister, I am ugly Kiri.” Kiri started to shush you, but you did not listen.

“I am not unique in features like you, I am not as elegant as your mother, I’m not as alluring as Aäna, or as talented as Lor’ät. I’m so fucking boring.” Your tears fell so freely down your face and neck, you felt them fall behind the straps of your breast cover. You hated it. You hated everything about you and you would never be enough for Neteyam.

You would never be enough for anyone, really. When you thought critically about it.

Kiri held you close as you sobbed like her mother would, smoothing down your hair like her father would. She was beyond confused about how you could ever think this about yourself. Knowing fair well what a lot of the hunter boys Lo’ak was friends with say about you, what Neteyam’s Riders say in confidence, what the healer girls under Mo’at whisper about during Kiri’s training. Usually it makes her want to gag. But in this moment she wished she told you earlier. Maybe it would’ve given you more self-confidence in a perverse roundabout way. You were so wanted. If it wasn’t for Neteyam’s possessive nature of you, you could have anyone you wanted. Kiri reasoned, that if Neteyam wasn’t going to let anyone else have you, but not move on you himself, Kiri would have to set it up.

You and Kiri came back to High Camp, just before dinner and just after you finally stopped crying. You asked Kiri to never talk about the whole thing, preferring to just shove the whole thing into a little lockbox, throwing it away into the undercurrent of your consciousness.

You stopped dead in your tracks infront of Kiri’s home, hearing Jake’s laugh and Tuk’s squeals. Neteyam was in there. No, you couldnt it was way to fresh. To have dinner with them would be the last petal in your funerary basket.

“Come, lets eat.” Kiri whined, pulling on your arm. You stood firm like an island of stone against the tide.

“I think I will eat with my parents tonight, I’m sorry.” You said in a low voice. “I’ll be back to normal tomorrow I promise.” You quickly added, to appease your headstrong sister.

“Okay.” Kiri said softly, taking both of your hands into her five-fingered ones. “It’s all going to sort itself out, (y/n). I promise.”

The usually short walk across High Camp to your family home felt unusually long, cold and dark.

Kiri flopped down on the woven mats around the firepit with a huff. Next to Jake and Neteyam, Kiri was hungry and angry and sad for her friend.

“Hey , Babygirl.” Jake said, kissing Kiri on her forehead. Jake looked toward the door, confused. “Where’s my other beautiful girl?” Jake asked, confused. (y/n) always joined them for dinner, he couldn’t remember a night her presence had been missed since she was born.

Kiri sighed, big and deep. “She’s having dinner with her parents.”

“What has happened?” Neytiri asked, serving dinner on a leaf for little Tuk.

Kiri felt internally conflicted. It was not her business to share, not her secrets to lay bare. But her best friend was hurting, and the skxwang next to her was the only one who could fix it. But (y/n) never begs for anything, and she begged Kiri the whole walk home to say nothing.

She could not say nothing, but she did not have to say anything, either.

“(y/n) was sad, about finding a mate. Her parents are really hard on her about it.” Kiri was not one to lie, and this was not a lie she convinced herself. But not the whole truth either.

“Bro, that’s so stupid. Literally everyone is asking her mom for courting meetings.” Lo’ak piped up. His sentence muffled due to his full fucking face of food. Kiri screwed her face up.

“Courting meetings? What do you mean?” Neteyam looked panicked. The face he usually reserved for Lo’ak’s antics on the field.

“I don’t know man, some of the guys were talking about it today during lessons. But her Dad keeps turning them away for now.” Lo’ak answered, shrugging nonchalantly, stuffing his face still, despite the family’s disgust.

Kiri stared at Neteyam, reading every inch of his face as he calmed down. He was running out of time, she knew it. But, Neteyam looked at Jake. Jake raised his eyebrows at his eldest son, turning his head slightly and shrugging. It was a shared look, Neteyam knew exactly what Jake meant, though Kiri felt left in the lurch.

The Sully’s did not talk about it for the rest of dinner, thankfully.

Neytiri was putting Tuk to bed. Jake, in a rare moment was teaching Lo’ak how to properly clean a gun. Kiri sat, next to Neteyam, running her hands up and down her own songchord, anxiously. Neteyam was evidently anxious too, his legs pulled up close to his chest, he stared at the fire pit as if the answers were going to lash out and brand him.

“She is in love with you, Neteyam.” Kiri said softly. Neteyam felt like he was going to pass out and bleed from his nose.

“I don’t think so baby sister,” Neteyam ruffled her hair, trying to present himself in a lighthearted way, despite his creeping blush. Kiri smacked his hand away.

“Listen to me, you idiot.” Kiri’s serious voice felt like a hot knife running through Neteyam’s soul. She never sounded this way, this upset. “She loves you. And, and she thinks that you only think of her as a little sister.” Neteyam chuckled at that, he never treated her the way he treated Kiri and Tuk. Surely, that was obvious, no? “I know. I laughed too.” Kiri said with a small smile. She took Neteyam’s hands into her own, like she did with you only a few hours prior.

“Neteyam, she thinks that she’s ugly, that she will never be enough for you. She thinks she’s not talented.” Kiri’s round eyes filled with empathetic tears for her best friend, thinking back on your small frame sobbing in the long grass.

Neteyam’s blush soon turned to anger. His heart finding the possessive pit that he reserves only for his feelings for you. “I do not understand, does she not know that everyone wants her?” Neteyam hissed in a low voice, Eywa forbid, Neytiri heard him talk about how the other boys of the clan view (y/n). Neteyam hated how they spoke of her body, her face, her mind. Her beautiful voice and nimble hands. Only he was allowed to think of you like that. And the Great Mother only knows how they think of you at night, how they think of you when they-

Neteyam stopped himself before he went any further. He knew how he thought about you at night when he has a hand between his thighs.

“She does not know.” Kiri said, bringing Neteyam back to the forefront of his mind. “I have never told her.”

Neteyam’s heart swelled in a terrible way. You were so sweet, so innocent, you did not know that boys rutted into their own hands at the thought of the way your waist dips, or the mound of your breast. He needed to protect you, and Jesus, he thought he had by laying an unofficial possessive claim. But, it seems that the future Olo’eyktan has been ignored.

A growl fell out of Neteyam’s mouth. To Kiri it looked like a dark light fell over her brother’s features. A man possessed. He stood, cracking his neck and shoulders, like he always did, but this time Kiri flinched. She had never seen Neteyam so…scary.

“I will fix this tomorrow, sister.” Was all Neteyam said, as he retreated to the sleeping quarters of their home.

(y/n) did not sleep a wink. All she could see in her mind’s eye was Neteyam. Neteyam laughing with other girls, Neteyam riding with other girls. How they wave to him when he walks past.

Neteyam. Neteyam. Neteyam.

You felt so guilty, so, so guilty. As the night went on your thoughts went south, went dirty and wrong. You dreamt about kissing Neteyam; How soft his lips would feel against your own. His rough, calloused hands would hold your face in place and he would kiss you like he loved you, kissed you like he meant it.

Simply, you did not deserve to hold romantic thoughts about Neteyam in your heart like that. He was not yours. He would never be.

You quick hands made light work of the repair you were currently undertaking. You enjoyed your work as clan seamstress. Fixing, making loin cloths, beading breast covers and threading jewellery. You enjoyed the freedom to create things, but to also be useful to your clan. You could never offer them safety, food, medicine or freedom. But you could make sure they were warm in the cool rains, and protected from the glistening sun in the heat of the day.

You folded the repaired loincloth, placing it to the side. Ready for its owner to pick it up when they had a moment to spare.

The flap to the tent flew open, causing you to jump out of your skin. The last person you wanted to see stood in the entry way, ripped loincloth in hand.

“Good morning, Neteyam.” You said softly, casting your gaze downwards. He quickly sat across from you, legs crossed like a child.

“Well, it’s good now.” He smiled brightly. You felt all the blood run to your cheeks. “Do you uh, do you mind fixing this for me?” He said, stumbling over his own words, handing over the dark green textile.

“Of course, easy fix.” Your fingers brushed his and you felt like your hands had been set on fire. Shaking, you began stitching the fabric back together. You knitted your brows together as you worked, not wanting to see his face any longer, the more you stared at your hands, the worse they shook. This tear made no sense, it was cleanly cut with a knife. Neteyam had purposely ripped his own loincloth. “How did this even happen?” You asked.

“I needed an excuse to come and see you, my (y/n).” Neteyam spoke softly, reaching out to take one of your hands, distracting them from their job. His eyes caught yours, and you knew you were done. So warm, so full of life and love.

“Neteyam-” You started, but he cut you off. Something of which Neteyam had never done before.

“I know you do not see yourself how I see you.” He started, his stare holding you to the spot, you sent a brief prayer to Eywa, that this was not some cruel trick. “You are the most beautiful creature that has ever walked these lands. You care so deeply for the people, the forest.” His hand ran the length of your arm, goosebumps rising in his wake. “I see you. I love you. I want you.” Neteyam said vehemently.

You felt everything, everywhere, all at once. Everything you have ever wanted to hear had fallen out of his mouth like it was always meant to be. It sounded so right. It sounded natural and real. It was so out of character for Neteyam, to be so open, so raw and honest with his feelings.

So, under the guise of love, you acted out of character too. Like for like.

Taking his beautiful, soft face between your small, shaking hands, you kissed him. Pulling away for breath, you remembered what needed to be said.

“I have always seen you, Neteyam.”

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar twow #avatar domestic #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #jake sully domestic #jake sully platonic #jake sully x neytiri #jake sully #jake sully x reader

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thewailingbells · 3 months

Note

Hello~~

I discovered your profile not long ago (literally yesterday) and I loved your writing. You made me more in love with Thomas Hewitt than I already am!!!

Could we have a fic where Thomas and S/O are already lovers but for some reason S/O has to leave or travel to another city for a few months and this leaves Thomas completely devastated and stressed. Even Luda Mae and Hoyt notice the change in his behavior while s/o is away and when s/o finally returns home,she has to find some way to de-stress Thomas who is dying of missing her. 😞 (No need to write NSFW if you feel uncomfortable!!!!)

(English isn't my first language so I literally translated this whole thing on google... lmao.)

Always Forever

AN: AFAB Reader. This is my first time writing smut! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Sex, nudity, fingering, rough sex, piv, creampie, general nsfw things.

“Thomas, you know I have to go.”

Your boyfriend was standing behind you, arms wrapped tightly around your torso, and his head buried into your shoulder. Your words only made him squeeze you tighter.

“Tommy, I need to go see my family. They miss me, and I promised I would visit them for the week! I wanted you to come with me; you know that, but Hoyt said no.

He sighed, knowing you were right. His uncle needed him to stay home and take care of the house. God knows what would happen if Tommy wasn’t around.

Since you started dating him, there hasn’t been a day when you two were apart. Thomas didn’t want to let you go, but he knew he had to. He spent the rest of your time together, following you around as you packed your bags. Noon came quicker than you expected, signaling it was time for you to go.

You said your goodbyes to Luda, Hoyt, and Charlie as you walked out the door. Tommy was already outside, having carried your bags to the car. Once all of your luggage was neatly packed up, you smiled at him. You pulled him into a tight hug before kissing him. “I love you. I promise I’ll be back.”

You got inside your car and smiled at him. With that, you drove off. Tommy waited until your car was nowhere in sight to go back into the house.

“Tommy,” Hoyt said, “How’s it feel now that your bitch is gone?”

Thomas ignored his words and stomped down into the basement. He could hear the sound of bickering between Hoyt and Luda Mae, most likely due to Hoyt’s crass language.

Tommy wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had been in the basement. He just kept chopping and chopping and chopping the animal meat laid in front of him. He had been cutting meat for years now, to the point where he didn’t even have to think about it.

“Tommy! Tommy! Get up here now,” Luda Mae shouted. His mother’s voice awoke him from his thoughts. He walked up the stairs. Luda Mae looked at her boy with sad eyes. “Tommy. You’ve been in the basement for six hours. It’s time to stop now, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you some food and water.”

The next few days, Thomas would go to work at the crack of dawn and come home hours after the sun had set. When he came home, he would wait by the door for a few moments. He thought that maybe you would have come back early, but you didn’t.

The week had gone by. You had promised him you would be back home on Monday by one o’clock in the afternoon. Thomas believed you. Why wouldn’t he? However, it became harder and harder to believe you as the hours on the clock ticked by. Tommy sat by the front door. Watching. Waiting.

Hoyt sighed and came up behind Tommy. He placed his hand on his shoulder. “Boy, I don’t know how to tell ya this, but I don’t think she’s coming back.”

Thomas’s eyes grew wide. He shook his head. You were coming back. He knew it.

“Thomas, it’s six o’clock. She said she'd be home by one. I don’t see her anywhere. Do you?”

Tommy placed his head in his hands. He wished Hoyt wouldn’t say things like that. Things that were not true. But then again, Tommy had never been the brightest. Maybe you never loved him. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity for you to escape from him. When Thomas was about to spiral into distress, he heard a car door slamming.

Thomas jumped out of his chair and rushed to the door. He opened it with such force that it nearly flew off the hinges. That’s when he saw it—your car in the driveway. He ran towards it.

You quickly stepped out of your car, beautiful as ever. You smiled when you saw him. “Tommy! I’m so sorry I’m late. I was-” Your sentence was cut off when Thomas picked you up off the ground and pulled you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. You tried to wiggle out, worrying his grip was too tight, but you gave into the hug and snuggled against him. You knew he needed this.

Eventually, he put you down on the ground. “Tommy, I told you I would be back. I’d never leave you. I love you so much. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

He didn’t say anything. He leaned down and kissed you. It was rough and passionate. Before it escalated, he threw you over his shoulder and brought you inside.

Hoyt smiled at the sight of you. “Well, would you look at that? She came back! Luda was right,” he muttered to himself.

Thomas brought you upstairs to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed and quickly pinned you down. Your faces were inches away from each other. The room was silent except for the sounds of both of you panting.

Tommy gently cupped your breast. He looked at you with pleading eyes.

You nodded. “Go ahead. Do whatever you want to me, Tommy.”

He immediately got to work, his movements faster than usual. Normally, he would take his time with you. Not today, though.

He roughly grabbed the waist of your pants and yanked them down. You let out a squeak in surprise. He grabbed both of your wrists in one of his large hands, keeping them suspended above your head. He balled your t-shirt up in one of his fists before forcefully tugging it up. He released his grip, allowing you to slide it off.

Tommy let out a desperate whine at the sight of your body. You were dressed in white lace lingerie. It was nothing much; it was very simplistic, looking like it could pass for a normal pair of undergarments. Despite that, Tommy nearly came in his pants at the sight of you.

He leaned down and nestled his face in the crook of your neck. He aligned his clothed cock with your clothed pussy. He began to desperately hump you. Tommy felt shameful; you could tell by the way he hid his face. Never in his life had he been this desperate for anything. He wanted, no, he needed to be close to you in any way. He had to show you how much he loved you.

A breathy moan fell from your lips. “Tommy, Tommy, calm down. I can take care of you.” You began to sit up. He pushed the middle of your chest, causing you to fall back onto the bed. You sighed, knowing he wanted to do everything himself today.

He pulled your panties to the side, exposing your pussy. He ran his thick fingers up against your lips to feel your wetness. He roughly put one of his fingers inside of you, causing you to throw your head back and moan in pleasure. He would usually give you time to adjust to it, but not today. Today, he immediately shoved his second finger inside your hole as well. Your back arched as he roughly finger-fucked you harder than ever before. Tommy then put his thumb on your clit, gently circling it.

Once he felt your walls begin to stretch for him, he removed his fingers. You whined in annoyance. Thomas unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out. It was rock hard and dripping with precum. He aligned himself with your hole and then fully bottomed out in one swift movement.

You mewled in pleasure. “Tommy! Fuck, Tommy~”

He immediately began to roughly pound into you. The feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock drove him crazy. Your moans got louder and louder, not caring who heard them.

He reached down to toy with your clit, bringing you so close to the edge. You grabbed the blankets on the bed.

Tommy was so close. He needed to come so badly. You looked at him with lustful eyes. “I love you~ cum for me. Cum for me, Tommy.”

With one particular rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came. He let out a deep moan as his seed began to fill you up. Thomas nearly collapsed on top of you. He grabbed your waist and flipped you onto him, his cock still deep inside you. Your entire body was pressed tightly against him. He wrapped his hands around your smaller frame to keep you in place.

Once you had calmed down, you sighed contently. You reached up and pushed some of his hair out of his face. “I told you I would come back, didn’t I?”

#thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre #slasher x reader #leatherface x reader #leatherface #slashers x reader

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lesservillain · 3 months

Text

—iii. the smoke, and who's still standing when it clears

cw: some slight implied sexual thoughts?

an: i had to cut a part from this or else it was going to be way too long. see ya in the next one, reefer rick.

“So, how did it go?”

Tonya sits across from you looking perfect as always, such a beautiful light in your life. Even when she’s antagonizing you.

“It was…really nice actually.” A small, shy smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your mind recalls the night before.

Your date with Sam went way smoother than you had anticipated. He picked you up on time, even coming to the door to get you which you knew Tonya was going to bring up today. He did everything right; held open all of the doors, pulled your seat out for you, paid for your food, actually listened to what you had to say and didn’t interrupt you. He was extremely charming and funny, and the two of you had a lot more in common than you expected.

“Sam sounds pretty perfect, doesn’t he?” Tonya says with a teasing tone, eyebrows raising suggestively.

“Yeah, I guess I’m making him sound that way, huh? It makes me wonder how bad his faults are going to be.”

“Unless he’s got bodies in his basement I’d say keep him around.” Tonya raises her hand to count on her fingers, “He’s hot, he’s got a good job, good manners—I’d say baby trap his ass.”

“TONYA!” You lean in, whisper yelling at your friend’s suggestion, the two of you breaking out into a fit of giggles. “I am absolutely not doing that. But…I did agree to a second date.”

“I guess I can take that for now,” Tonya shrugs, taking a sip of her mimosa. “Oh, speaking of dates, I almost forgot. Charlie and I are going out of town for our anniversary. He’s taking me to Chicago!” Her giddiness warms you. Even if you aren’t a fan of him, you have to admit seeing your best friend happy brings you your own kind of happiness.

The sharp sound of the phone ringing makes you jump, almost dropping the plate you were cleaning into the soapy water. You look at the stove clock reading just a little past 8 pm. In the few weeks that you’ve been here not once has the phone ever rang. Walking over to it, your hand hovers over the plastic as you debate on if you should answer it. It’s not like it's your house, but who else is going to answer the phone?

A sigh of relief comes from you as the phone ceases it’s ringing on its own. The quiet takes over again, and you think you’re in the clear until the ringing starts again.

Grabbing the phone, you quickly bring it to your ear with a, “Hello?”

There’s a pause, and you repeat your greeting into the receiver. Suddenly you can pick up some whispering, at least two voices talking to each other on the other line.

“Sorry, wrong number.” Click. Dial tone.

You look down at the phone before shaking your head and placing it back in place. But only a single step is taken before the phone begins to ring again. Annoyed now, you pick up the phone once more.

“Hello?” You say again, tone reflecting your temperament.

“Ugh, not again,” you hear the voice from the other end groan. “Sorry, miss.” Click. Dial tone again.

‘What the fuck?’ you think, putting the phone back on the hook again. You hover around it for a moment, and sure enough it begins to ring again.

“Listen, kid,” your start, tone firm, “If you keep calling here to bother this family I will call Chief Hopper.”

“You know Hopper?” The younger boy's voice says from the other line. No, you don’t know him. But Wayne told you to say that in case this exact scenario was to arise.

“Yes, I actually have his personal number right here—”

“So do I,” the boy quips back, striking a nerve. You’re about to give this kid an earful before he continues on. “I just saw him earlier today, actually. But that’s not the point. I’m just trying to get a hold of my friend and this is the number his uncle gave me to call and—”

“Uncle?”

“Yes, uncle. I don’t see how out of all the information I gave you that him having an uncle is what caught your attention.”

“Oh, my god, you are so annoying. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Maybe once or twice.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Is your friend’s name Eddie?”

“YES! Yes! His name is Eddie—”

“Dude, don’t tell her his name—”

“Chill out, Mike, it’s fine—How do you know Eddie?”

“Well,” you draw out, returning some of the attitude back to the other end of the call, “I think me telling you that depends on who is asking?”

There’s a bit of muffled deliberation between the boy on the phone and whoever Mike. You wait patiently, foot tapping against the kitchen tile. After a moment you hear a sigh come from the other line, followed by a throat clearing.

“Okay, fine. My name is Dustin Henderson,” the boy starts. “I’m calling looking for Eddie Munson. He is my friend, and myself and some of his other friends are worried about him. I’m assuming you’re in his house for some reason, and I am asking you if we could talk to him. Please.”

“Dustin Henderson, huh?” You repeat, attempting to keep a bit of sass in your tone. In reality, the name instantly rings a bell. Wayne told you a little about Eddie’s friends, and along with the guys that Eddie was in a band with, the name Dustin came up a lot. Wayne said Eddie looked at Dustin like a little brother he never had.

It takes everything in you to keep your composure right now. Eddie’s been feeling much better these last couple days, so you’re sure he’ll be delighted to talk to his friends. “Okay, Dustin Henderson. Let me go ask him if he’s up to taking a phone call. Hold on.”

You set the phone down on the kitchen table and jog down the hall to Eddie’s room. Knocking on his door, you push it open slightly before calling into the room.

“Eddie? Are you up?”

“Hmmm…I am now,” the groggy, sleepy voice from the other side of the door sends an unwanted chill down your back. Quickly shaking it off, you enter the room to Eddie sitting up in his bed, hair in every which direction and arms outstretched as he lets out the most unnecessarily loud yawn you’ve ever heard. You give him an unimpressed look to which he returns mockingly.

“Can I help you? Or did you just come in here to stare?”

You roll your eyes, “You have a phone call. From a Dustin Henderson, who seems like he very much would like to speak with you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, an excited expression on his face. Though, it’s a fleeting one, as his features become downtrodden and he starts to sink down into himself.

“Tell him I’m asleep.”

“What? Why?”

He huffs. “I don’t want to talk to him…”

“Eddie, he’s called the house at least four times. Can you just—“

“No.”

You watch him sink under the covers again, back into the safety net of his comforter. You stand there for a moment, dumbstruck. Eddie’s can definitely be an ass, but Wayne told you before that Eddie’s friends mean a lot to him.

Leaving Eddie behind in his room, you make your way back to the kitchen. Bringing the phone to your ear, you can hear the boys on the other end having a conversation between them.

“—aybe it’s his girlfriend,” the other boy says teasingly.

“Eddie? With a girl? I’ll believe it when I see it,” Dustin scoffs.

“Hello?” You say into the receiver with a giggle.

“Yes, hi, we’re still here,” Dustin says with urgency.

“Hi, um, so I went to check on him and he says he’s not really feeling up to talking today.”

“Oh, okay…” Your heart aches hearing the disappointment in the boy’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Try again tomorrow, okay? Maybe a little earlier. I think his medicine makes him sleepy.”

“Alright, will do,” Dustin perks up. “Thank you ma’am.”

You give him your name before giving your goodbyes.

Dustin and Mike call every day for the next 4 days. One time with their friend Will, who apparently has never met Eddie but wants to meet him so they can all talk about dungeons and dragons.

You see, Eddie was their dungeon master in their high school club, which also includes the guys in Eddie’s band. All of them have been playing a new campaign, and they want to give Eddie all the details of their first get together without him.

All of this you have learned against your will, mostly because every time Eddie turns down their phone call, you can’ help but lend an ear when they get going. And, boy, do they get going.

“So we told Will to cast a fireball, but he wanted to save his spell slot and—”

“What's a spell slot?” You sit at the dining room table, flipping through a car magazine Wayne left sitting out.

“It’s, like, the amount of spells you’re allowed to use per day in the game.”

“Ooooh, so he only gets so many?”

“Correct.”

“Well, then yeah it would make sense that he would want to conserve them.”

“See,” Mike stresses from the other end of the line, “She doesn’t even play and she gets it! Quit picking on Will! It’s not like we lost anyway.”

“Yeah, but we would have gotten through the hoard a lot quicker if he had at least tried.”

The sound of Eddie’s bell pulls you from the boys’ banter. “Hey, I’ll be right back,” you say, placing the phone down on the table.

Sprinting down the hall, you knock quickly before entering the room. Eddie still doesn’t call for you often, so when he does you can't help but worry a bit. “Everything okay—oh shit!”

Instead of hiding under his covers, Eddie sits back against the headboard of the hospital bed. His covers have all been kicked to the floor and the middle of his bed sheet is drenched. Upon further inspection, you see that his shirt and boxers are soaked as well.

“Eddie, what happened?”

“What does it look like?!” His tone is full of frustration. “I dropped my fucking cup and the lid popped off and spilled all over the place!”

“Okay, okay,” you say calmly, “I can fix this. Why don’t you get in your chair and I’ll strip the bed?”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbled, face wincing in pain as he slowly moved his body to sit on the edge of the bed. You moved to the side of the bed and offered a helping hand, which he ignored but at least you tried. Once he was properly sitting on the edge, you grabbed his chair and positioned it before raising the bed.

“Okay, just put your hands on my shoulders…” you start, instructing him like you would one of your patients. “And I’ll just—“

Your hands hover for a moment as you fully process that he is only wearing boxers. Wet boxers that, when in close proximity, don’t leave much to the imagination when left wet and sticking to his body.

Not wanting to let your eyes wander, you preoccupy yourself by placing your hands on his hips and grabbing the hem of his undergarment.

“On the count of three, we’ll pivot. Ready?”

Eddie gives you a nod, placing his hands on your shoulders and holding tightly. You keep your eyes on his foot as you count down, shifting him into his chair in one swift motion. He grunts as he gets adjusted in the chair, a little winded from all the movement.

“You good?” You ask, taking a step back.

“I’ll live,” he says with cynicism.

“You better. Won't look good on me if you die on my watch.

It’s fleeting, but you swear that you see the corner of his lips curl up into a smile before he turns away from you.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, “I’m gonna get in the shower.”

You perk up at his declaration. “Really? Okay! Let me go hang up with Dustin and the guys and I’ll get my stuff for you.”

Eddie’s hair flies everywhere with the way his head snaps in your direction. His head bows, eyes squinting as he speaks, “What do you mean hang up with Dustin and the guys…?”

“Oh, they called again so I was talking to them.”

“So, you’re saying you’ve been talking to my friends on my phone…?”

“Well you’re not doing it,” you shrug. “They were just telling me about the game you guys play, I guess Will didn’t cast a flameball because he wanted to save one of his slots or something—“

“Okay, first of all, it’s fireball, not flameball. And second, why the hell are they telling you about this stuff? Don’t they have anything better to do?”

“Sorry, fireball,” you apologize with sarcasm. “And, they would be telling you all of this if you would just talk to them.”

His face scrunches up, head shaking before he turns away from you completely. You notice for the first time that he pushes the wheels with the palms of his hands rather than using his fingers to grip them. Having helped set up his dinner for him a few times, you’ve seen that with the tissue damage to his right hand that he doesn’t have much mobility in it.

The temptation to offer some physical therapy for it sits in your mind. But, you’re not sure how he would react to your offer, so you’ll hold off until you can chip away at him a little more. He pushes himself slowly into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. With a sigh you leave him be and go to hang up the call with the boys.

After grabbing new bed sheets, you reenter Eddie’s room and begin to strip his bed, piling everything onto the floor. You're about to take off the pillow cases when a sudden clatter has you rushing to the bathroom door.

Pushing it open, you peer inside to see Eddie sitting at the sink. From what you can see of his reflection, it looks like he’s trying to shave the scruffy, uneven hair that's grown on the non scarred parts of his face.

“You’re quick, huh?” He comments as he reaches into the sink for his electric razor.

“Well, can’t blame me after the other day, can you?” You tease, referring to his fall last week. He doesn’t respond and turns the razor back on to continue shaving.

As you stand there and watch him, your words come out like word vomit. “You look good like that.”

His eyes flick to meet yours in the reflection in the mirror. “What's that supposed to mean?” He asks with a clipped tone.

“It means what I said.”

And you could leave it at that. You often wonder if he had been bullied even before his scarring with how often he questions any praise you throw at him. But, instead you decide that doubling down and talking more is the proper thing to do. “You look very nice clean shaven. Very handsome.”

Big, brown eyes blink slowly at you. “Well, I’m sorry I didn’t clean up for you before now. I’ll do my best to make myself easier to look at from here on out.” He gives you that same tight lipped smile that you’ve begun to notice whenever he gets an attitude like this.

Your jaw drops and you scoff. “Eddie, that is not what I meant and you know—” He cuts you off by turning on the razor again, the loud buzz muffling your words as it echoes off the bathroom walls.

Your shoulders slump in defeat. You want to just turn tail and take care of his bed, but decide to get the bathroom set up for him while you’re in there. You place towels on the floor and on his shower chair, leave a couple of washcloths on the built-in handrail, and set the shower head down so that everything is within reach for him.

“Oh, I almost forgot—“ You were expecting Eddie to still be fidgeting at the sink, too preoccupied with setting things up for him to notice that he was watching you run around his bathroom with amusement.

“I, um…” his unmoving glare was tense, making you feel like you were being evaluated. “I brought some stuff for your hair to, uh, help with the knots and stuff. Let me go grab them for you.”

The first step you take is slow, expecting some form of protest from him. But, when he remains silent you rush through the door and across the hall to grab the supplies you’ve stowed away in it. Detangler, a pick comb, and some shampoo and conditioner that should help with the curls.

With full arms you reenter Eddie’s bathroom. He’s moved closer to the shower’s edge and looks to be in the process of removing his shirt on his own. The limited mobility along with the tightness of his scars make it difficult for him to move his arms up above his head, but his stubborn ass seems to be a glutton for punishment.

“Here,” you say, setting everything on the shower shelf. Tugging his shirt up for him, his head disappears inside of the shirt and his fluff of hair reappears as you pull it off completely. You still can't get over how his back is almost completely void of scars when compared to the rest of body.

“Thanks,” he says without much thought. You hum in return, tossing the shirt on top of his bed.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

No response. You look back at him and see that he’s completely still. “Everything okay?” You ask, noticing the troubled look on his face as you round his chair.

“I…” he says quietly, eyes concentrated on the tiles on the floor, “I can’t stand up on my own and take my underwear off…”

Oh.

At this point in your schooling, seeing someone naked wouldn’t normally bother you after all of the saggy boobs and flat butts you’ve washed during your nursing assistant training. It’s a necessary skill to be able to detach the naked body from inherent sexuality in the medical field.

And Eddie’s body shouldn’t be any different. Just because he’s close to you in age doesn’t make him any different from your previous patients. So why is your face heating up thinking about it?

“I-I see,” you say, trying to not sound as flustered as you are. “Let me think…Oh! Why don't we get you on the seat, we’ll lay a towel across your lap, and then you can shimmy your boxers off under them?”

Eddie mulls it over for a moment before reluctantly shaking his head. You move in front of him to get into position and make another quick transfer onto the shower chair. Eddie hisses in pain next to your ear, most likely due to the stiff plastic of the seat that he’s not used to pushing into his back and butt.

Placing a towel over his lap, you stand by as he wordlessly slips his hands under it and begins rocking back and forth. You keep your eyes above chest level, not wanting to look away in case he were to start to fall.

“Shit!” Eddie says, making you look down instinctively. The towel must have caught on his boxers as he was pulling them down, and you watched in slow motion as the towel slipped lower, getting dangerously close to exposing him.

Thinking quickly, you grab for the towel and hold it up against his skin. Eddie’s hands flail as he tries to get them out from under it as fast as he can. His boxers fall unceremoniously off his thigh and pool around his single ankle. The two of you stare at them, then at your hand that is pressed firmly into his lower abdomen. You have a firm hold on the towel, your hand the only thing keeping it from joining the dark blue boxers on the shower tile as it’s fully fallen off of his lap, draped down to cover his…

…is that his…against the heel of your palm?

Pushing back the inappropriate thoughts starting to form in your mind, you grab the ends of the towel and lay them on Eddie’s lap again. He doesn’t say anything as his hands do their best to hold the fabric in place as you adjust it. You’re almost afraid to look up at him, not wanting to acknowledge that you may or may not have accidentally grabbed your patient by the dick.

“Okay,” you say with as steady of a voice as you can muster, “I think you should be good now. You grab his boxers from around his ankle and quickly make your exit from the shower, pulling the curtain behind you. “Just shout if you need me!”

The hard spray of the shower turning on is the only response you get.

“Ow!”

“Eddie, if you want me to comb out these knots you’re going to have to complain less.”

“I can’t help I have a tender scalp now.”

“Now?”

You can see Eddie’s scrunched up expression in the mirror’s reflection as you spray detangler into his curls. The conditioner had done quite a bit of loosening of his tangles and mats, but there was still a fair bit that needed to be combed out.

“Yes, now. I used to be able to just take a brush through it at the end of the day and be fine. But no one really took care of it when I was in the hospital.”

“Wayne never tried to do anything with it?”

Eddie gives you an annoyed look in the mirror. “You’ve seen my uncle, right? He’s not exactly the person I would go to for my hair care advice.” The shine that comes from the head of the older Munson is definitely prominent.

“What about the nurses?” You ask as you comb through another successfully detangled section of his hair. He doesn’t respond right away, a distant look in his eyes as he stares at his own reflection.

“No, they couldn’t help me either.”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t mind doing your hair for you. My best friend is a hair stylist and can give me some tips to help you keep it manageable after my time with you is done, too.”

“What do you mean after your time is done?” He asks after a moment.

You tilt your head at him. “Like when my volunteering program is done? I think it goes until the end of the semester. So like the first or second week of December.”

“You’re a volunteer?” There was an angry lit to his tone.

“Y-yeah? I’m sorry I thought you knew—”

“No, I thought…I thought my uncle was paying you to be here.”

You shake your head, “No, no, I’m doing this as part of my schooling. My class is working with the VisitingAngels to get more help in Hawkins. It’s totally free and I don’t make any money, just some extra credit for school.”

Eddie’s face changes as he processes your words, before visibility softening as he looks at you. “Well, I guess you must have pulled the short straw to get stuck with me then.”

There was a complete change in his attitude all of the sudden. The normal agitation in his voice was gone, making his statement sound lighter than anything he’s ever said to you before.

“I picked you.”

His eyes meet yours, dumbfounded.

“Well, kind of,” you start. “Sa—I mean, they told me that you were a…special case. A lot of information was redacted in your sheet, and, well, you know, with everything else…”

“I’m sure I wasn’t anyone else’s first choice.”

“But, I didn’t think that was fair, so I said I would take care of you. Glad I did, even if you give me more trouble than you’re worth sometimes.”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing and you laugh as you continue to work through his hair.

Your lower back ached as you climbed out of your car. School was out for teacher’s meetings so you switched with a coworker to have all of Saturday off. Sam asked to take you to the movies for your second date and you both decided to do ice cream after so you wanted to be able to sleep in and lessen the chance of falling asleep during the movie. But you paid the price today, forgetting that your coworker is normally the one who puts inventory away.

“Hey there, little lady,” Wayne says as he walks out from the backyard. It’s not as hot as it had been, colder weather on the horizon as September was coming to a close, but the older man had a dark gray ring of sweat around the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, Wayne,” you waved to him with a smile. “Getting some last minute yard work done before the rain comes in?”

“Yeah, wanna get this grass seed down so come spring it’ll start to grow. Tired of havin’ta clean mud off m’truck all the damn time.”

“Do you need any help? I used to work all summer in the garden with my grandma as a kid. I’m sure I still have a little bit of green left in these thumbs.”

Wayne’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, the lines looking deep with age. “That’s alright darlin’, I’m done for the day. Preciate ya askin’. Better get inside and get ready fer work.”

You follow him into the house where you’re met with the sound of heavy metal all throughout. You look at Wayne confused, but he just shakes his head and starts heading down the hallway. He pushes Eddie’s door open and your hands fly to your ears with how much louder the music gets before it abruptly stops.

“What the hell, Wayne!” You hear Eddie whine.

“Look, I get you’re excited kid but I don’t think your Uncle Ben would appreciate you using his gift to make yourself go deaf.”

“Uncle Ben?”

Both pairs of Munson eyes land on where you stand in the doorway. They look as if they’ve been caught and you wonder if you should have stayed in the living room.

“Sorry, I—“

“No, it’s fine,” Wayne says, giving Eddie a look. “Ben is a friend of mine. S’known Eddie since I got custody of em and Eddie’s just always called em Uncle ever since.”

“Oh okay,” is all you said. It seemed like such a normal thing, but the sketchy way they were acting made you not want to press further. “I guess you must have gotten a new toy then, huh?”

Sitting where Eddie’s nightstand was is a cabinet stereo system, decked out with a record player on top and shelves to put cassettes and records underneath. You couldn’t say for sure but it looked brand new, either way it would have cost Uncle Ben a pretty penny to buy it.

“Yeah,” he says with an airy giggle, the empty cassette in his hands. It catches you off guard to hear him so excited, and when you look up at him, you have to do a double take.

He’s smiling.

For the first time in the two months that you’ve been taking care of him, he’s genuinely smiling.

“Who are you listening to?” You ask, leaning in to get a better look at the case.

“Megadeth,” he says with a grizzly voice, nodding his head to a song in his mind.

“Ooohhh cool,” you say with genuine fascination. “I’ve heard of them but I’ve not actually sat and listened to them.”

Eddie’s hair flies as he looks up at you with a quirked brow. “You’ve heard of them?”

You nod, “Yeah, I think the record store where I live has been playing them though. They’re putting a new album out or something.”

“Yes! This!” He says, shaking the cassette in his hands. “It came out two weeks ago. I didn’t think I was going to get a chance to hear it.”

“And you better give Uncle Ben a nice thank you card for it. I wondered what he’d been picking up so much over time for.”

Eddie is quiet for a moment, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, I’ll, uh, do my best to do that.”

“So, Eddie, what other music do you like?” You ask, wanting to give him a distraction before he slips into a bad place. His ears perk up at your question and the look he gives you makes you feel like you’re going to be standing there with him for a while.

And you did. Long enough that Wayne was able to take a shower and get his lunch ready for work. By the time he came in to let you know he was leaving, he figured he’d find you looking bored to death and shuffling awkwardly as his nephew droned on about his music knowledge.

But, what he found instead was you sitting in Eddie’s chair, leaning into him intently as he animatedly speaks about whatever band he’s gotten started on. Wayne knows how Eddie can get once he gets started. But you don’t look bored at all like he probably has at times.

In fact, Wayne would dare to say you have a bit of a sparkle in your eyes as you gaze up at his nephew.

“Hey, kids, I’m heading out,” he calls into the room, grabbing both of your attentions instantly.

“What?” You ask, turning to look back at the clock on the dresser. “Oh my god, it’s been an hour and a half already? Eddie, you still need to eat dinner.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wayne waves a hand, “I have a pizza on its way.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie looks at Wayne with a pinched brow. “You gave someone our address?”

“Boy, just trust me, okay? You know I wouldn't let just anybody bring a pizza to this house.”

Your mind instantly goes to Hopper. You’ve heard Wayne and Eddie talk about him before a handful of times but you’ve never actually seen him. He’s brought things to the house for Eddie before when you’ve not been there, leaving you very curious about him.

“Okay, if you say so.” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes.

Right on que, a knock raps against the door with a rapid urgency. It makes you jump, something the younger Munson notices but doesn’t comment on.

“That must be the delivery boys,” Wayne says with a sly smile before leaving the room. Eddie looks at you with a quirked brow, wording ‘boys?’ at you with confusion.

As you go to inspect what Wayne is up to, you hear the loud voices of boys as they begin to file into the house. The entryway fills with 6 or 7 bodies of all different ages and sizes, all of them wearing the same baseball style tee shirt with a red devil face on the front.

“Hellfire…” you say to yourself, reading the shirts before letting out a gasp. Your feet carry you down the hall where you look amongst the group.

“Bring the pizza in here boys,” hear Wayne say from the kitchen, “Jeff and Grant, come n’help me get this table setup for ya.”

You watch as two of the older boys go into the kitchen followed by the one still carrying the pizza, leaving the younger ones to finish kicking off their shoes. One of them finally notices you and straightens before turning to grab the shirt of a taller boy behind him.

“Oh shit, it’s you!” You recognize his voice. Mike Wheeler shoves another boy with curly hair next to him, who curses and turns to face you as well. He says your name like it’s a question, sussing you out before getting excited.

“In the flesh,” you say, gesturing towards yourself.

“Hell yeah,” he says in his giggly voice. “We didn’t know if you were gonna be here or not.”

“I didn’t know you guys were gonna be here at all!”

“What really?” Mike says with a scrunched nose.

“That would be cause’a me.” Wayne leans through the threshold, that sly smile still on his face. “I didn’t tell ya in case ya told Ed. Sorry, hope this is alright. Dustin told me he’d been callin’ and that Eddie wouldn’t talk to em, so I figured he couldn’t ignore em if they was already here.”

Eddie’s bell rings from his room, and Eddie and Mike visibly perk up.

“Is that him?” Dustin asks excitedly.

“Yeah, he’s back in his room. Come on,” you say as you turn on your heel. Giddy with excitement, you couldn’t wait to see Eddie’s face when he got to see his friends. Them being here on top of getting his stereo system? It’s almost like it’s…his…

“Is today Eddie’s birthday?” You quickly stop to face the boys that had followed you down the hall, causing them to almost run into you.

“What, no?” Dustin says confused, “His birthday’s not til May.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Okay good. Sorry, he’s right in here—”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Eddie’s slightly strained voice called from the other side of the door. You could hear a tinge of panic in his tone, and it hit you that all he could hear was loud noise with no context while he’s stuck in his bed.

“Wait right—”

“EDDIEEEEEEEE!” Dustin shouts, stepping past you and pushing the bedroom door open. Mike follows behind and the quiet boy with him gives a soft sorry as he files in behind him.

“Wait, where’s that bastard at?!” The older boys come running out of the kitchen, pushing each other until they stumble into Eddie’s room as well.

Eddie’s bed has a living wall around it, bodies blocking your ability to see his face. Before you can go in to check on him, Wayne calls for you from down the hall, a pizza crust in his hand.

“Hey, he didn’t get his pain meds for the night yet. Figured he would be too tired and end up being grumpy by the time they got here, so I held off on it. Obviously if he needs em he can have him, but he seemed pretty distracted with his cassette to notice any pain.”

“That’s good to hear,” you say with a nod. “I’ll probably have him take them after they eat with his other meds.” You pause for a moment, putting a hand on Wayne’s arm. “If I had to take a guess, he’s probably going to be grumpy anyway, but…he’ll thank you for it eventually.”

He gives you a nod before gathering his lunch and heading out for the night. A chorus of guffaws from down the hall had your interest piqued. But, as you made it to the doorway, you felt like your stomach was in your throat as you watched the boys trying to get Eddie into his wheelchair, one arm around the shoulders of two of his friends while another was holding onto his ankle.

“Woah, woah, pump the brakes there guys,” you say running to them. The boys all look at you collectively, then look to Eddie.

“It’s okay, I’m fine!” Eddie laughs. His eyes were creased from how hard he was smiling and his laugh filled you with a fluffy feeling.

“I can tell you’re fine, but I don’t want you to get hurt and have to send these guys home.” Just as quickly as they had tried to lift him, they sat him gently back down so he was sitting up on the edge of the bed. “Sorry to be the party pooper, but once he’s in the chair he’s free game.”

“So, are you gonna introduce us or what, dude?” One of the boys finally asks as you get Eddie situated to put in his chair. He lets out a sigh, avoiding your eyes, saying your name to the group of boys. “She’s my…caretaker.” There was a bit of hesitation in that last word, but you ignored it.

He said your name again as if speaking to you this time, “This is the Hellfire Club. I guess you know Dustin, Mike, and Will already,” he says gesturing to the three younger boys who all wave and smile in their own way. “And these boneheads double as my old band members; Jeff, Grant, and Gareth.” The older guys nod and give their hellos, still giving Eddie a knowing look.

“It’s nice to meet you all. Finally.” Eddie gives you a deadpanned look before you lift him to pivot in his chair, making you almost fall into him as you do. He plops in his chair and unlocks it, and you step aside so that he can back away from the bed.

“Oh, let me push you!”

“No, I wanna push him!”

You roll your eyes, and watch as the boys file out of Eddie’s room and into the hallway.

“Man, we really need to get you some decorations for your room,” the last boy calls as he looks around. That gives you an idea, and you grab the one named Gareth by the arm. He looks at you with wild eyes, standing nervously in front of you. “W-whats up?” He attempts to ask with a slight shake in his voice.

“What kind of things does he like?” You ask the nervous boy, looking him straight in the eye.

“W-what?”

“For his room. I want to get him some things but don’t know what to be looking for when I’m out.”

“Oh, um…He likes metal music. And he used to have a bunch of band shirts. Mostly Black Sabbath, Dio, Metallica…But he also likes Dungeons and Dragons. But I guess that’s obvious. Oh, and The Hobbit series.”

“Like Lord of the Rings?” You ask.

He nods, “Yeah. He carried a copy of The Hobbit with him everywhere. It was practically falling apart, b-but he loved it.”

You shake your head, biting your lip as you think. “Thank you, Gareth,” you say, and he takes that as the OK for him to go, sprinting out the bedroom door.

“Oh, man, dude,” Dustin says from the table, mouth full of pizza “Wait until you see what Jeff’s got planned.”

“Yeah,” Will chimes in, “Jeff has been keeping us on our toes. We’ll definitely need your help to get through this session.”

“I don’t know,” Jeff says, loading his plate with pizza and cheesy bread, “what I have on the agenda for tonight might be the end for this group of folly.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Jeff. Just because I’ve been out of commission doesn’t mean that I don’t know all the tricks in the book.” Eddie says from his spot on the table.

You maneuver around the boys as they get their plates and drinks. Someone had already gotten Eddie a plate and a cup full of a fizzy drink, which, thankfully, was way too dark to be one of the beers that you see sitting on the counter. It was in a regular solo cup though.

“Eddie,” you call from across the counter, and he looks up at you carefully. “Do you want a straw?” You ask, opening the counter above you. Looking out of the corner of your eyes, you see the boys have stopped talking, eyes looking everywhere except for Eddie as if trying to gauge his reaction but not make it obvious.

It takes him a moment to respond. “Um, yes, please.” He says quietly, hands in his lap as he leans in to look at the paper sitting in front of him. Grant sits on one side of him, leaning in and pointing out something about his character sheet which in turn breaks the silence among the table.

When you round the table to bring his straw, you place it in his cup and he gives you a quiet thanks again. You nod, but can’t help to notice that he hasn’t eaten any of his pizza.

Not wanting to draw too much attention to him again, you lean into his ear with a low voice. “Do you need me to cut up your pizza?” He doesn’t move at first, but subtly shakes his head enough for you to notice. You take your lip between your teeth and nod, backing away.

Once their game gets going, you grab your pizza and head into the living room, putting on your headphones and cracking open your textbook. You can’t help but look over at the table for every loud noise that they made, which was a lot, but you didn’t want to be too distracted in case Eddie needed you.

Things seemed like they were going well, until out of the corner of your eye you saw Grant jump up from his seat looking down between him and Eddie. The paper plate and Eddie’s pizza slice were both face down on the floor. You pulled your headphones off quickly, scrambling to your feet to clean the mess.

“Woah,” Grant says when you appear from behind him. “I can get it. It’s no biggie.”

Eddie’s face looked forlorn, still staring down at the place where Grant was wiping the red sauce with a paper towel.

“Let me get you another slice,” Dustin said, rising from his seat.

“No,” Eddie said, voice almost panicked. “It’s fine, I don’t—I don’t need any.”

“You barely even got to eat this piece,” Grant said with a questioning tone as he tossed the dirty piece away.

“I’m getting you another piece.”

“Eddie.”

His panicked eyes met yours, and you could see the breakdown bubbling inside of him. His head was shaking, mouth opening and closing but the words weren’t coming out. Tears rolled down his cheeks. You’d never seen him get this upset before.

You put a hand on either cheek and made him focus on you. “Eddie, it’s fine. No one here is upset with you. It’s just a slice of pizza. There’s, like, two more whole pizza’s over there. Dustin is going to get you another piece. Do you want me to cut it up for you? You should be able to pick up the smaller pieces.” He looks between your eyes before nodding finally. You give him a reassuring smile and take your hands from his face.

“I’ll get you a refill, too,” you say, ignoring the tension in the room and continuing on like nothing happened. Dustin handed you the new plate when you walked by, trading it for the cup you had to refill. Grant took his place back next to Eddie and the table started to talk again.

“Here you go,” Dustin says, reaching across the table to set Eddie’s drink back in front of him. “And here is an extra cup to roll your dice in.” You watch Eddie eye the cup before pinching it between his fingers. He gives a small thanks and the table moves on, becoming so engrossed in the game once again that no one even notices when you place the new plate on the table. Eddie mindlessly picks at the cut pieces as Jeff gives a speech about a cave having a hoard of something inside of it.

A hand waves in front of your face, pulling your attention from the textbook. When you look up, you see Dustin, Mike and Will peering over you. And out of the corner of your eye you see Jeff, Grant, and Gareth pushing Eddie’s chair down the hall.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask, pulling your headphones down and around your neck.

“Bathroom break!” Gareth shouts.

“Do you need my help?” You call back.

“Nope!”

These boys are going to kill you.

“What are you studying for?” Will turns his head to try and see the contents of your book.

“Oh, this is my medical terminology book. I’m in nursing school.” The three boys give a collective ‘ooooohh’ that makes you laugh. “It’s pretty interesting, but I don’t think you guys would like it all that much.”

“Hey, we like science stuff,” Dustin says.

“Yeah, he goes to a science camp every summer.”

“To see my girlfriend!”

“Yeah that’s totally the only reason,” Will chimes in with a roll of his eyes.

“Wow, Dustin has a science camp girlfriend, huh?” You say teasingly.

“She’s not just my science camp girlfriend. I talk to her on my ham radio, too. She lives in a different state.”

“And she’s Mormon.”

“Yeah, her dad doesn’t like us talking so we have to be sneaky. Mike has a girlfriend, too.”

“Does she also live in another state where she can only be accessed via radio?”

“No, she lives with Will just a little bit away from here,” Mike says, jutting his thumb back at Will. You tilt your head at the boys, confused as to what they mean.

“How far is a little bit?” You ask.

“Like, I don’t know, five—ten minutes by car?” Mike says looking at Will and Dustin who nod in agreement. “El—I mean Jane’s dad is Chief Hopper. And he’s dating Will’s mom. They live in a house that they built out here.”

Every sentence was like whiplash. That would explain why Wayne asks the chief to come out here. It would be easier if he’s so close by to come and check on Eddie. But, obviously he has a family so he can’t be here all the time.

“Back from the bathroom! No one died!” Gareth shouts as Grant and Jeff push Eddie back into the dining room. The three younger boys rush back into the dinning room as well taking their places at the table once again.

It was almost pitch black dark when you opened your eyes, the only light coming from the clock on the stove. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. When did you fall asleep? And who put this blanket on you?

You could make out your textbook on the coffee table, and when you looked around, it seemed like the boys had cleaned up and put the table back against the wall. You jumped up from your seat suddenly, about to take off down the hall to check on Eddie when a voice from beside you made you scream.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie shouted in reaction to your shriek. You pulled the lamp cord on the table next to you and the room was lit with a low light. Eddie’s form came into focus where he sat in the recliner, eyes squinting from the brightness.

“What the hell, Eddie!” You whisper shout. “Why are you out here and not in bed?”

“I…” he stuttered, “I didn’t know if you’d hear me if I needed you. So, I just had the guys put me here. That’s all.”

You blink at him, not awake enough to fully understand, but also not fully awake enough to argue. Rubbing the sleepies from your eyes, you look at him better. He looked like he had gotten a clean set of clothes on and even had his drinking cup next to him in the chair.

“Guess they got you set up pretty good, huh?”

He nods, shimmying in the chair as he gets settled again.

“Eddie?” He looks over at you, puzzled. “Why were you so against seeing them? Or even just talking to them? They seemed really happy to see you.” Eddie turned away from you and was quiet for several moments. He took a deep breath in and sighed.

“I was…Some of them…Some of them haven’t…seen me since…since before…” His voice was shaky. You were about to tell him that he didn’t have to explain himself, but he kept going, voice leveling out a bit when he cleared it.

“Dustin, he was there. One of the ones who…found me. But the rest of them, they haven’t seen me since before break. Since before…everything happened. And none of them have seen me like this. I’ve changed so much that…I was worried they would see me and freak out. I don’t think I could have handled that.”

“Well, they certainly didn’t seem too bothered by any of your changes. They’re a good group of friends.” Eddie nods in agreement. “Did you guys have a good time?” A big, cheesy smile spreads across Eddie's face.

“Yeah, we did. Totally kicked Jeff’s monster hoard’s asses,” he said with a laugh.

“What time did everyone leave?” You ask, looking at the clock where it reads 3am. Thank god you switched shifts.

“Dustin, Mike, and Will all left around 10:30 or 11. Hopper came and picked them up. Guess they’re all staying at Mike’s.”

You let out an exasperated grunt, throwing your head back onto the couch.

“What was that?” Eddie laughs at your dramatics.

“I missed Hopper, again! I’ve been hearing about this guy but haven’t seen him yet!”

Eddie snorts, “You’re not really missing much. He’s just this really tall dude with a bunch of scars now from being imprisoned by the Russians.”

You look at him with shock. “He was what?”

Eddie shakes his head, “After they left, my other friends stayed until like one. We talked outside for a bit. They said they want to start coming here to do Hellfire meetings every other Friday, but I told them I’d have to ask you first.”

“Why do you have to ask me?” You look at him with a furrowed brow. “If you have to ask anyone it would be Wayne.”

“I know you like to study and stuff, and I don’t want them to be a distraction for you while they’re here. Or for you to have to worry about me or whatever.”

“Oh, well, that’s really thoughtful of you Eddie. But I’m okay. If I really need to study, I’ll just go sit in your room or something.”

He nods his head, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Did you guys talk about anything else?”

Your words caught him off guard, you can tell by the blanched look on his face.

“Nope. Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“I thought it was pretty boring,” Sam said, taking a bite from the sundae he’d ordered for the two of you to split. You couldn’t decide what you wanted, so he ordered it as a way to get a little bit of everything. It was huge, and you were thankful that you didn’t have to eat it alone.

“I wouldn’t know considering you had my attention most of the movie,” you said, referring to all the stolen kisses and brief make out sessions that kept you pulled from paying attention to what you were watching. The movie was kind of boring, though, so you really couldn’t complain.

“That was my way of saving your sanity,” he says with a smirk.

“My hero,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, hey you got something—”

“Oh, what—”

“It’s right there,” he says pointing at your lip, “like a little hot fudge or something.”

“Did I get it?” You ask, licking your lips where he pointed.

“No, no. Here let me—” His hand cradles your face and he plants another kiss on your lips, making you squeal and giggle at his antics.

“Ha, ha, you’re so funny,” you say when you pull away. He looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes for a moment, before looking down with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I just really like doing that.”

“What, being a dork?”

“No, kissing you,” he says seriously, “It’s nice. You’re nice.”

Heat hits your cheeks at his words. Sam has been nothing but a gentleman to you since you met. Sometimes he comes out to your car and will walk with you to your class, carrying your books for you the whole way. Other days you’ll bring him a coffee to his office when you’ve had time to stop in the mornings.

He’s always asking questions about you, and he genuinely seems interested when you talk about yourself, not tuning out like some guys do when a girl talks about themselves.

And when you ask questions about him he always seems to have an interesting answer. Whether it’s about his well off parents who have a summer home in Scottsdale or how he played varsity football for his high school, there was always a story within a story for him to tell you all the details about.

You did have to admit though, that, yes, he was really nice and interesting, but maybe he really wasn’t your type? Tonya told you that it’s just your brain’s way of telling you that you can’t have anything nice. But, you just…can’t quite put a finger on it.

Still, it wasn’t enough to turn down a third date.

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson #eddie munson st #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson lives #eddie lives #eddie stranger things #disabled!eddie #canon divergent #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x nurse!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic #make me better #mmb #mmb!eddie

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bunnys-kisses · 1 month

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the father who stepped up

cw: age gap, step-cest, dub-con, forced impregnation, breeding, daddy kink, degradation, graves sucks as a step-father, dead dove-don't eat

well, weren't you just a beauty? graves could understand why he simply couldn't control himself around you. it was an obsession. that was why he hated when you left for the new school year. summer was coming to an end, which meant he didn't see you for many weeks while you were out of town for school. it honestly broke his heart.

he didn't hate your mother, after all he did marry her. but he wanted a newer model. and that was where you came in. at home for the summer. it started out slow, when your mother was out of the house he'd put kisses all over you. then he groped your breasts and ass. until finally you crumbled into him.

then the true fun began. almost every night in your childhood bedroom he rammed his hard cock into you. he watched your breasts bounce with the force of his fucking. he often had to put a hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud.

you weren't even in your mid-twenties and he was having thoughts about leaving your mother and marrying you. he hoped by that point you had a sweet little belly. a sign that he was the only man who ever got to seed you. the thoughts raced in his mind often, even when he wasn't fucking you into the double mattress.

he hated that you had to leave soon, but if anything it made him want to get you pregnant faster. his voice was a low purr in your ear as he said, "you like that, sugar? you like when daddy fucks you nice and good?" then gave you a hard slap on the ass. the house was empty expect for the two of you.

he currently had you on your elbows and knees with your face buried in the pillow and your ass in the air. your tight heat was constricting his cock while made him feel hot all over. he got rougher when he was drinking, the drive to impregnate his step-daughter only became more intense after a few drinks in him.

and after all, you two were home alone so he could finish in you as many times as he wanted or needed. you were on cloud nine with the feeling of his cock stretching your more intimate area in a position that left you vulnerable to pregnancy.

"yeah, daddy wants a full house. and you got a lot of time left to give me all the kids i want. leave school and be my bride, sweetheart." he purred.

you whimpered, "I can't, it's my last year." you wiggled a little but it only enticed him more. you moaned into the covers and arched your back further as he got more aggressive with his thrusts.

he yanked your hair and pulled your head up, he leaned forward to your ear and said, "see, that's the problem. you don't get a say. you're mine, and nothing is going to stop me from breeding that sweet little cunt of yours." he said matter of factly.

you gripped onto the covers and felt butterflies in your stomach. the bed creaked with each of his movements and his heavy breathing was hot in your ear.

he chuckled and gripped your strands closer to the scalp, "you're mine, and once biology works its magic and you end up saddled with a few of my kids you'll see it my way. this is better for you than any degree." he then pushed your head back into the pillow and kept you there by your neck as he continued to ram his cock into you.

it felt like heaven, like the sweetest euphoria he could ever have. he never had it when he fucked your mother. only your sweet pussy left him yearning for more. he knew he'd still want it, even after a little wear and tear from having his big babies.

he continued to thrust in and out of you. he held you down and had his way with you. he was glad you were slowly seeing the picture. he let go of your neck, assured you were going to stay down and his hand trailed along your stomach.

he got aroused further by the idea of you being the most perfect wife for him. he'd cut up your credit card, burn all your shoes and keep that belly nice and full. you only had to rely on him. he was a traditional man and he'd take care of what was his. most times he would consider himself a gentleman, but it was hard to argue for it when he has your back arched and your pussy full. his cock bullied your cervix.

you whimpered and moaned, you clawed at the bed as it hit against the wall. such a sweet symphony. graves' cock twitched inside of you at the idea of you wearing his shirts to cover your swollen middle.

in all fairness you could be nude in your shared home, no one would see you. there wouldn't be a neighbor for miles. whatever his little wife felt comfortable in.

with a few more hard thrusts he finished inside of you, then laid his chest against your back, smothering you. he reached for your pussy and played with your clit as your hole contracted around his still hard cock.

you flailed and tried to move away but he kept you pinned down as he placed with your nub. eventually orgasm crashed down on you like rain and your felt a moan be pulled from your mouth before you felt the energy leave you.

you laid on the bed, soft and limp. but graves wasn't done. your mother would be home in an hour, he thought he could get at least two more orgasms in before he felt content with his breeding.

he slapped your ass once more and growled in your ear, "look alive, sugar, i ain't done with you."

you came back that winter break with a slight slope in your belly. all graves could do was smile by the rim of his scotch glass. he could feel the twitch in his pants, especially when your hand went to the bump. he knew, no words needed to be spoken.

he had planted his seed in his step-daughter, and soon he'll suggest that you take some time off school to raise that little baby. after all his brats weren't going to be raised without a mother.

xoxo, bunny

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celtic-crossbow · 12 days

Text

For You, I'd Bleed Myself Dry

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early-ish Alexandria

Warnings: Suggestive (extremely mild); hangover

Summary: You're hung over and don't really remember how you got to Rosita's house the night before. Or what you had said on the way there.

A/N: Just a fun little drabble born of this incorrect quote. Suggested by @marvelcasey05

You didn’t expect to find Daryl still home when you wandered in the next morning. He was always an early riser, and though everyone else still slept, he would usually be long gone and outside the gates. So, when you tip-toed through the door and into the kitchen, your heels in your hand, he nearly scared the life out of you. You flipped the lightswitch and:

“Mornin’.”

“Jesus Christ, Daryl!”

The archer chuckled behind his coffee mug before tilting it the least bit more to take a sip. “Rollin’ in awful late.”

You shrugged “Or early, depending on how you look at it. Any left?” You nodded toward the cup. He gave a quiet mhm and got up to make you a mug. Your head was throbbing. You knew your makeup was a mess and your hair a disaster. You had slept in your dress at Rosita’s, so it was wrinkled and you were almost certain that it was only partially zipped in the back.The party hadn’t been that fun but the liquor had been flowing. That was why you went. Things in Alexandria had been stressful. Your group had been there a while. Long enough for so many problems to come along and be handled. The past week had been particularly eventful. Still, it had been handled and there had been some time to cut loose.

So, you did.

You sat your heels on the counter and muttered a thank you when he slid the mug across the surface, narrowing your eyes across the rim as you readied for a drink. “Do you know how I take my coffee?”

“Guess you’ll need to take a drink an’ find out, won’tcha?” He was perching himself back on the island stool when you realized that Daryl Dixon was barefoot, wearing flannel pajama pants, and a faded Led Zepplin t-shirt.

“You’re wearing people clothes.” You blinked, still holding the mug close to your mouth.

Daryl smirked from behind his own cup. “M’a person, contrary to popular belief.” He took another sip, prompting you to take one of your own. He did know how you liked your coffee. Interesting.

An ache in your left foot reminded you that you wanted nothing more than to go to your room and fall into a coma for a few hours. “I should probably take some—”

“S’behind ya. Got ‘em out earlier. Water too.”

There were two tablets on the countertop by the fridge, along with a glass of water. You warily picked them up, almost as if they would come alive and bite you. “Thank you?”

“Mhm.”

Quickly swallowing them, you downed the water because coffee wasn’t the best tool for rehydrating, but you’d be damned if you’d give up that mug for anything. Collecting your heels and your coffee, you started walking backwards out of the kitchen. “Listen, I’m gonna head upstairs and get off my—”

“Perfectly good chair right here.”

“What?” Now you were looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. There were no other chairs in the kitchen. Carol had the only other stool piled full of kitchen junk she had yet to put away. “Are you sure you’re awake?”

“M’wide awake. How’d ya get to Rosita’s last night?”

Wait. Was Daryl blushing? “She helped—” No, that wasn’t right. Rosita and Tara came back long after you did. You distinctly remembered grumbling at them to turn off the lights. “How did I get there?” You said aloud, though softly.

“I took ya.”

Your shoes hitting the floor echoed through the quiet house, causing both you and Daryl to flinch. After a moment, no baby cried and no adults yelled. You walked forward and placed your mug back on the counter. “What do you mean you took me? You weren’t at the party.”

Cause Daryl’s home. He doesn’t like parties.

He shrugged but the pink tint to his cheeks was now traveling a route up to his ears. “Was workin’ on the bike. Saw ya stumblin’ ‘round in the dark. Didn’t wantcha to get hurt.”

“Did I—did I say anything stupid?”

And if I see him right now, I'm gonna ask to use his face as a chair.

“Nope.” The archer was staring at his coffee cup, rolling the smooth sides between his hands. He absolutely knew what you had said but he was giving you an out. Goddamn that man. He had to be beautiful, rough edged, and chivalrous at the same time?

“Good.” You nodded. “Good. Thanks for the coffee.” You turned to walk out, leaving the coffee mug behind. “And for—you know, getting me there safely last night.”

He nodded with a small, tight smile but didn’t say anything else. Maybe he was just teasing you. No, Daryl wasn’t the type. Well, he was but not with things that were at his expense. He was definitely going out of his comfort zone if the red tint on his face was any indication. Did he want to do that with you? You certainly wouldn’t mind. You’d wanted Daryl for as long as you could remember. Even before he started treating the group more like friends than survival buddies. There was always just something about him that called to you, pulled you in like a magnet, but there was this invisible line that didn’t feel safe to cross. Was he toeing that line with you now?

You might never get the chance again if you were to shut him down.

“Hey, Daryl.” You called from the stairs, barely looking over your shoulder. Your heart was racing.

“Yeah?”

“There’s—there’s no chair in my—what’re you—hey!” You were over his shoulder and being hauled down toward his room in the basement before you could do much more than laugh.

“Weren’t no way ya could make any line ‘bout a chair work.”

“Got a bed, right?”

“Got a mattress.”

“That’ll do, Dixon. That’ll do.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #Spotify

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the-travelling-witch · 11 months

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

summary: working in a coffee shop means you always meet a wide variety of personalities; but why, out of all options, did you have to go and take an interest in the mysterious guy with an attitude problem?

pairing: piercer! scara x gn barista! reader

warnings: uhh needles (obviously), cursing like once, reader has questionable nicknaming skills (they're worse than paimon's)

modern au series || genshin impact masterlist

It was a typical Monday morning in the coffee shop you were working at, most customers seemingly dragging themselves in after rolling out of bed with the occasional energy ball as an exception. The aroma of roasted coffee beans filled your nose as you worked on several orders and people entered or left the store at a steady rate.

Once rush hour was pretty much over, the doorbell chimed again to reveal a guy with a dark and choppy bob cut you were sure not many people could pull off. The black clothes draped over his silhouette were deliberately torn at some places and a black mask covered the rest of his face except for striking indigo eyes and two gleaming dermal piercings peeking out from under the fabric on his right cheek.

“Good morning, what would you like to order?” you greeted, the expected smile already on your lips.

Without so much as a greeting, he said in a monotone voice, “A large black coffee to go.”

Wow, quite the attitude but then again, it was Monday morning and you had seen worse. So, not thinking too much about it, you continued as normal. “May I ask for your name?”

“Huh?”

“To write on your cup, so we can call you when your order is ready to be picked up,” you patiently explained.

In a tone that suggested the guy was bored out of his mind, he merely drawled a “Just write whatever” and went back to scrolling on his phone.

It was a good thing you weren’t holding a cup yet or you might have crumbled it. So much for giving him the benefit of the doubt. Your eyes narrowed as your smile and voice took on an almost unnoticeable edge. “Sure thing,” you replied in a sweet tone before telling him his total.

A few minutes passed after you gave the guy’s order to your coworker who sniggered as you handed them the receipt. While taking more orders, you were keenly aware of that indigo-eyed jerk’s presence lingering by one of the windows, back leaning against the wall and ringed fingers reflecting the morning sun.

Setting a cup down on the counter, your coworker called out “A large black coffee to go for ‘Whatever’!”

At the unusual call, a few other customers turned to see what was happening and the guy himself seemed taken aback for a short second before collecting himself. As he walked up to the counter, he threw you an unimpressed glare which you returned with an innocent shrug.

Despite his grumpy attitude, the guy kept coming back for the next couple of weeks to the point where you could pinpoint the exact time he’d walk through that door, always ordering a large black coffee. He’d yet to give you his name, so when you went to prepare his coffee ahead of time, you continued to write ‘Whatever’ on it.

It might have been your imagination, but you thought Bob-Cut seemed to mellow out more too as he kept coming back and you built somewhat of a routine. He’d actually use words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ which you didn’t think possible the first time you met him. And, much to your chagrin, you had to admit the nonchalant attitude paired with his style and accessories suited him really well and you sometimes had trouble tearing your gaze away from deep pools of lapis. Not that you’d ever make it known to his face though.

Slowly but surely, you started looking forward to seeing him everyday too. Remembering you’d get to see the mysterious - yet cute- guy walk in again made you positively giddy with excitement as you got ready in the morning.

Yet this particular day your enthusiasm was stumped as the prepared cup of black coffee sat lonely behind the counter, waiting to be picked up. But he never came, no matter how often you expectantly looked up as the bell jingled. Your coworker patted you on the back encouragingly and you dragged yourself through your shift, a sunken feeling settling in your chest.

The next day, no coffee sat premade on the counter while you worked on orders. With your back turned to the door you almost didn’t notice it swing open. A gruff ‘Morning’ made your eyes light up before you composed yourself and turned to face the strongest resting bitch face ever.

“Good morning, what would you like to order?” You smiled, deciding to play coy although you already knew the answer.

And that was actually the look he gave you; eyes narrowed unimpressed and brow twitching upwards. “Seriously, I don’t come in for a day and you've already forgotten me. That’s a bit harsh, no?”

“Well you never know,” you shrugged playfully. “Maybe you had a change of heart as your coffee was all alone yesterday.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. He had nothing to apologise for in your opinion but it was cute anyway. “A client cancelled their appointment on short notice and my coworkers had all the other clients handled, so I didn’t come to the studio in the morning.”

The guy must’ve caught on to the curiosity visible on your face because he followed it up with “I’m a piercer and tattoo artist.”

“Oh wow, really?” you said, remembering your own plans to get a new piercing somewhen soon. Since your last piercer had closed their shop, you had kind of pushed that thought to the back of your mind though. Suddenly you were very much aware again of the ink peeking over the neck of his shirt and the piercings gleaming in the shop light “Where do you work?”

“In the studio down the road. If you don’t believe me, you should drop by,” he challenged defensively, although you didn’t doubt him at all. Realising what he just said, his eyes widened in the first big show of emotion you’d seen from him and you thought you could see a faint rosy tint where his mask ended. “No, I mean– Forget I said anything!”

For the rest of the interaction, the guy kept his head down, bangs obscuring his eyes which never quite met yours. It was cute seeing someone who acted so aloof usually be all shy and bashful and you tugged the info about his workplace away for later. To be precise, for the coming weekend.

On your day off, you found yourself in front of the glass door of a tattoo shop. The pleasant scent of flowers from the shop next to it filled the air as you took a deep breath before you pulled the handle towards you. You chastised yourself for being giddy and letting your hopes get the better of you; for all you know, he might not even work today. Or what if he really didn’t want you here?

Your nerves were forgotten when you entered the studio. Along the walls of the modern entrance area hung a variety of different sketches, distinct both in style and motif. From fine-line flowers to precise geometrics to calligraphy and Japanese style tattoos, you wondered just how many coworkers Bob-Cut had and which sketches were his as you studied the signatures.

“Hi there, how can I help you?” You spun around to face an auburn haired man who had appeared behind the counter, his olive eyes twinkling at your reaction.

“Oh uhm, I wanted to get a new piercing. That’s fine without a scheduled appointment, right?”

“Sure, thing. Just fill out these documents here and tell me what piercing you want and I’ll hook you up with someone who’s not working right now,” he smiled brightly, yet you had the strange sense that mischief was bubbling just underneath the surface.

“Actually,” you couldn’t believe you were about to say this out loud, “is there a piercer working here with an indigo bob cut and two piercings on his cheek?”

“Oh?” And there it was, that teasing lilt in his voice which raised the hairs in the back of your neck. “Yo, ‘mouchie, there’s a cutie here to see you!”

A mere few seconds after his shout reverberated down the short hallway behind the desk, steps could be heard as a familiar raspy voice answered. “If you call me that again, I’ll fucking ki– What are YOU doing here?!”

“Oh, so you really do know each other,” Olive-Eyes snickered.

Deciding to ignore him, you tilted your head at the accusatory finger still pointed in your direction. “You invited me, remember?”

“I told you to forget it!”

“Well, too bad you’re not my boss and I can do what I want,” you snipped. “Besides, I wanted a new piercing anyway, so I decided to come here. Where’s the problem with that?”

The sound of your bickering lured in two more onlookers, a guy with dark blue hair tied into two braids to frame his face and one guy with his teal hair tied into a messy ponytail, who was staring down at his phone as if it was way more interesting than his colleagues.

“What am I hearing? Scara inviting someone over?” The braid-guy sing songed. He mimicked wiping a tear from his eye dramatically. “That I can still witness the day… They grow up so fast.”

“Go to hell, all of you,” ‘Scara’ seethed.

“Alright, see you there.” Teal-Bangs didn’t even look up from his phone, the quip rolling off his tongue as naturally as breathing.

“Wow, even Xiao is bullying you now,” Olive-Eyes chimed in.

Dual-Braids laughed, slinging an arm around Bob-Cut’s shoulders and you feared he might bite it off given the glare he was sending his coworker. “You should really stop hitting him with the newspaper, you know?”

“Uh, guys…?” you interjected before they could start squabbling again. “About that piercing…?”

“Oh right!” The auburn-haired man took the documents from you and gave you a wide smile. “As I said, a piercer who’s free will take care of that aaaaaand would you look at that! Scara happens to be free, so he’ll have the honour of giving you a cool new accessory!”

“Hey, I-” Your coffee shop acquaintance tried to protest but Heizou was already ushering you in his direction.

“Now, go have fun, you two,” he teased. “But not too much, okay?

That was how you found yourself standing in a neat piercing room, bright white light illuminating the equipment stashed there. There was a sigh behind you and ‘Scara’ crossed the room.

“They’re such nuisances,” he mumbled before he fixed his indigo eyes on you. Without his black mask on, you could see that besides the two dermal piercings on his right cheek he also had a nostril on the left side of his nose. As he spoke up again, a silver ball sitting on his tongue reflected the crisp light. “You’re okay with that? I mean, me being your piercer and all. Heizou didn’t give you much of a choice but just know that you can back out if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s fine by me, if you’re okay with it too,” you sincerely replied. “I mean you were pressured into it just as much.”

“I’m used to their antics though.” After a brief moment of gazing at each other, he cleared his throat and gestured for you to take a seat. “So, what kind of piercing do you want?”

You watched him pull on a pair of black latex gloves and only when he looked back at you did the question register in your brain. “A helix, here,” you said, pointing at your ear.

“Sure thing.” Rolling closer on a chair, he marked the spot you indicated and handed you a mirror. “Like that?”

When you gave your approval, he went back to the desk to prepare the necessary equipment and sterilised it. The silence prompted you to ask the question that has been burning on your tongue for a while now. “So your name is Scara?”

“Scaramouche is my artist name, I’m going by that,” he replied. “But Scara is fine.”

You didn’t have much time to wonder about the implications of using an artist name because a moment later, Scara appeared in front of you again. Needle in hand, his eyes came level with yours again. Up close, you could make out all the tiny specks of amethyst caught in the light and his scent invaded your senses.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, his low voice preserving the delicate atmosphere your proximity created. When you nodded, he gave you a small smirk, demeanour entirely changed from how you’d gotten to know him. “Alright, this is going to hurt a little but the pain will be brief. I need you to hold still through it, can you do that for me?”

Not trusting your voice, you nodded again as you swallowed. Latex met the side of your jaw in a ghost of a touch as Scara gently tilted your head the way he needed it. All nerve endings in your skin lit up as liquid fire spread from the tips of his fingers through your veins, the strange intimacy getting to you more than you could have prepared for.

You felt the Scara’s exhale brush your cheek as he positioned the needle and your warbled thoughts caught up with the situation the moment he pushed it through. But only when the jewellery followed did you flinch.

“There we go, the worst part is done,” he soothed. Giving the mirror back to you, he left you to admire his work as he got up. The calm call of your name pulled you from your own reflection as Scara held out a glass of water to you.

“Thanks,” you smiled before pausing. “Wait, did I even tell you my name?”

“Read it on your file,” he replied nonchalantly as you gave him an unimpressed glance.

“I’m sure that falls under poor etiquette,” you playfully chastised him.

“So? The outcome is the same, isn’t it?” he shrugged, yet you couldn’t help but find it endearing. “You good to go? C’mon, I’ll show you the way out.”

As you wrapped up the payment and Scara went over all the mandatory steps in taking care of your new piercing, you were well aware of the doors opening and the people peeping into your conversation. So much for privacy.

“Well then, that’s that.” The metal of his tongue piercing held your attention until Scara brushed some of his hair behind his ear, revealing a few piercings of his own. Among them was a helix which mirrored yours in placement. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“I will, thanks.” Your smile was filled with genuine gratitude. As you pushed through the glass door, you turned back to wave. “See you tomorrow!”

Maybe it was your imagination but as you left you thought there was an actual smile gracing his sharp features.

The next day, your spirits were high as they could be. Not only were you excited to show off your new accessory, you’d also been on cloud nine since leaving the piercing studio, butterflies stirring in your stomach every time you thought back to how he touched you. Perhaps what you were about to do was a little bold but you’d be damned if you didn’t shoot your shot.

As expected, Scara came in at the same time as every morning and you’d just finished brewing his coffee. He too seemed to be in a better mood than usual as he walked up to the counter. While you typed in his order, you made a bit of small talk over how your piercing was healing.

“It’s all good,” you laughed and showed the jewellery to him. “Almost like my piercer knew what he was doing.”

“You better believe that,” he countered. However, you didn’t miss the way his eyes seemingly lit up and crinkled at the edges, as they did when he smirked, when his gaze fell onto the piercing he put on you. His reaction gave you a boost of confidence for what you were about to do.

Handing him his cup, you wished him a great day and watched as he went to leave before stopping dead in his tracks. No doubt he discovered the little ‘If you ever feel like going for a coffee while I’m not working ♡ (and don’t whatever me!)’ you had scribbled onto the cup holder, followed by your phone number. You gave him a wink when he searched your eyes and watched him pull out his phone. A few seconds later your phone pinged.

Unknown number: whatever Unknown number: are you free this week?

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