#their words are still on their skin. unchanging. the last things they ever said to each other.

[quietwingsinthesky]

I’m not one for soulmates AUs but bobbyrufus soulmate AU of the ‘you have the last words your soulmate will ever say to you on your body somewhere’ kind.

#I MAKE THE RULES OF THE AU AND WHAT I SAY IS THAT THE MOMENT THE WORM ENTERS BOBBY TIME IS UP #ANYTHING SAID BY OR TO HIM AT THAT POINT DOESNT COUNT #YES. THIS IS SO THAT BOBBY HAS TO LIVE WITH ‘I will never forgive you for what happened. you got that? never. so change the subject bob.’ #ON HIM. THE WHOLE TIME. AFTER OMAHA. EVEN AS HES TRYING TO APOLOGIZE IN THIS SCENE HE KNOWS HE WONT BE FORGIVEN #BECAUSE ITS ALWAYS BEEN TATTOOED ONTO HIM. THHAT THEY WOULD END LIKE THIS. WITHOUT BEING ABLE TO MOVE ON. #and so that Rufus’s last words can say ‘I never said I’m sorry Rufus.’ rufus constantly carrying this reminder of what Bobby did. #of the fact that he hasn’t apologized. yet. of the fact that by the time he does it’ll be too late. #and then you just. look imagine. imagine with me. #they say this to each other. there’s that moment where they realize… that’s it. end of the line. #and then obv worm!samuel knocks them both out. them both going down thinking ‘oh this is what does it’ but it doesn’t. it doesn’t. #they wake up again. #and Rufus talks to Bobby. Bobby talks to Rufus. how is this happening? did they break the rules? get a second chance? #their words are still on their skin. unchanging. the last things they ever said to each other. #but there’s a glimmer of. almost hope. and then Rufus turns to shock Bobby. and Bobby starts backing away. #audible drop of Rufus’s heart as he realizes. no. they didn’t get out. and then he dies. Bobby is forced to kill him. #Bobby’s on the other end of the possession stick now. he’s the one with Rufus’s blood on his hands. #and the last thing Rufus said to him. he’s always gonna have it there on his skin. that Rufus didn’t forgive him. and then Bobby killed him. #(and it wasn’t his fault. he knows how possession works. knows there was no fighting this thing or saving Rufus. #but he still takes the brunt of the guilt. Carries it. till he dies and despite everything it’s still Rufus he wants guiding him through it. #bobbyrufus #spn #Bobby singer #rufus turner

[sseomtada]

being [ruben dias]

you run into ruben twice - both ending in unexpected and disappointing ways.

warnings: none | wc: 5609 | 2/???

It was as if all the time in the world and none at all passed simultaneously.

During that theoretically improbable glitch, you felt like you experienced every emotion known to man. Disbelief was the first. Was it really him your eyes were taking in, or did the mice actually exist in your brain and managed to do severe damage to your amygdala?

Then came shock. He stood to his full height, seemingly taller than you recalled and held out something in his hand. It took a moment for your gaze to drift to the item - ah, your original weapon of choice.

You reached out to grab the tail end of your keys. Whether it was to avoid contact with his skin was left to be determined.

Wave after wave, each one slamming more forcefully than the last into your body, you spun helplessly through a cycle that would only end one way.

Confusion, because what was he doing here? Not in this city, the answer to that was fairly obvious even without knowing his affiliation after seeing his address, but actually here on your street. Not remotely close to where he lived.

Anger followed suit. At the forefront leading the march of red hot flames licking the back of your neck was all of the questions you had about that night. Every single one of them starting with the word why. Though, not all of that vitriol was directed his way.

A fraction of it had been left to God or Fate or whichever entity decided to move your chess pieces to end up in this predicament. This was the last thing you needed and the worst time for it to happen. The one thing both he and the powers that be shared was the prefix to all of your venom laced inquiries, why.

You fought against the current and undertow. Nothing good waited for you at the bottom.

That was easier said than done, especially as the sky illuminated with a flash again and gave you an even better look at him. Adding insult to injury was the fact that he was achingly perfect, fully grown into the features you adored.

His strong brow bone contrasting those soft eyes more than they did before. That nose of his, still as big as ever, but sitting just right in a way that highlighted his prominent cheeks. His lips were possibly the one thing that remained unchanged, but you wouldn’t know for sure unless…

“I-” Ruben croaked.

A tiny, broken word was enough to tear you into two pieces. One half of you begged and pleaded desperately for him to spit it out. All of it. The other part wanted absolutely nothing of the sort. It wanted him to never even do so much as breathe in your vicinity for as long as he lived.

You swallowed thickly, eyes squeezing shut. This was too much for you to fully grasp right now. What were you even doing still standing here getting torrentially poured on? What did you hope to gain from watching him grapple to form a single sentence?

It’s over. Don’t contact me. I don’t love you anymore.

The keys bit into your palm as your grip around them tightened. If there was anything he had to say to you, he could’ve done so when you showed up at his door. He could’ve said something on any of the days, weeks and months that followed while you experiencing a part of yourself die and fade out of existence.

You turned to leave and didn’t make it more than two steps before his hand grasped your wrist. He was still so warm. Flashes of memories flooded your mind so quickly and intensely that it threatened to bring you to your knees.

How are you always freezing, baby? Come here. Closer. Perfect.

Just as you pulled your arm up to free yourself of his grip, he released it. You stood with your back still facing him for a beat. It was long enough for him to drape his jacket over your shoulders, shielding you from the rain. Your body let out an involuntary shudder.

And then you ran.

Everything muted. You didn’t feel your legs moving, or your galloping heartbeat, or your lungs burning from uncontrolled breaths. The next thing you knew, you were in your building facing the door opposite yours.

You knocked, careful not to be too loud given the hour and hopeful that despite the time, you’d be let inside. Only God knows how long had passed before you leaned your head against the cool surface. With a final attempt, you raised your first to knock again.

Instead of your knuckles connecting with wood, they swung into empty space. Your torso fell forward into Aki’s as she yelped.

“The rain just had to come down on your run, didn’t it?” She peeled your wet frame from her pajamas.

The playful look of concern quickly turned serious once she took you in. The look in her eyes filled you with deja vu. It was that September 15th stare all over again because she just knew.

This time, the water running down your face was warm - coming from within. There were millions of mice wreaking havoc in your mind now. They gnawed, scratched and unearthed all that you buried years ago, decimating the walls you’d built brick by brick.

Aki pulled you in tight, squeezing and cradling your head.

You let it all out.

Everything that you had created with Bana held more importance to you than most things in life.

It was far more than just a passion or a dream. As silly as it sounded, forming that company quite literally gave you hope. At a time where you’d felt so lost and at your wits end, fully at odds with what seemed to be your only option, you decided to do the craziest and most ill-advised thing. Although the road was anything but smooth in the beginning, you managed to navigate from treacherous dirt tracks to freshly set tar.

You currently found yourself in that same pocket of gratefulness that you were in back then. With the contract finally being signed, the real work had only just begun on the project you had with Nike.

There was so much to be done. That coupled with the pressure of having to solidify Bana’s strength in the new city left you devoid of extra time or energy to expend to whatever the fuck happened a few nights ago.

Aki was more than a saint. She gave you a safe space and the support you needed to seal the cracks, without judgment or prying into things further. The only thing she had to offer was: if you need me to take over from here, just say the word.

She knew that this venture meant an infinite amount to you, so suggesting backing out wasn’t a gesture you would appreciate. An attractive alternative, however, would be for you to take as much time as you needed to decompress while looking after the business for you.

There were no IOU cards in existence that could compensate the support a friend like her gave. You began to think you’d spend your entire life trying to repay her for all that she did for you. On this occasion, that looked like breaking the cycle of the past.

You weren’t going to fall apart and have her clean up your messes anymore. Everything that you went through wasn’t going to be in vain. Despite the massive destabilizing event, you would carry on for both your sakes.

“T-minus two weeks, ladies.” You set your stack of materials on the conference room table. “Let’s get to work.”

Cindy whooped and Aki clapped, ready to dive in. Their high spirits empowered you to shake off any residual feelings in order to pour everything you had into Bana’s debut in the Manchester market.

The schedule was torturously tight, leaving no margin for error. Neither you nor the client’s team had the luxury of dillydallying when the date for the launch party had been set and was a non-negotiable. Your first order of business was meeting up with the design team to essentially interview them about their process and goals.

That would help you in forming the image you intended to portray to the audience. They had been outsourced just like your team, so even delving into a bit of their backstory and their journey to working with a major company would come in handy.

Cindy’s expertise would come in next. She had an unrivaled pulse on current trends across seemingly every culture. Her knowledge was a inspiring and an endless resource that would take this project beyond the local scene, which was the whole purpose of working with a brand like Nike.

Aki had to be the smartest person you knew. Her ability to forecast financials was seen by the top four multinational firms even when she was an undergraduate. She even spent time working with Deloitte post graduation, but was fast to come to the conclusion that the corporate accounting world wasn’t the environment for her. It was a realization you owed your company’s life to.

The weeks approaching the deadline quickly dwindled down to days. All the while, the three of you worked tirelessly alongside your accompanying staff to ensure that the product’s marketing was seamless.

“And…breathe.” Aki shut her laptop with a smack.

Cindy let out more of a roar than a breath, drawing both of your gazes to her.

“Sorry, was that a bit much?” She grinned sheepishly.

Actually, it wasn’t in the slightest. You too found yourself bellowing aloud, to everyone’s confusion at first, until they joined in as well. It was a release of everything you all had endured to drag your bodies to the finish line. It was also strangely therapeutic to nonverbally, yet vocally, express your relief.

At the end of it, you were laughing - something you realized you hadn’t done in quite some time. That moment made continuing on regardless of whatever issues loomed feel so very worth it. This was why you took the leap you did, the rewarding feeling of succeeding and doing so with an amazing set of people alongside you.

“We’ll tidy things up here.” Aki shot you a don’t even argue with me look.

“Sure will! You go and get some well deserved rest, boss.” Cindy offered a sincere smile.

As much as you wanted to put up a fight, you learned with experience to graciously accept kindness when it was extended to you. After bidding them goodnight, you headed back to your place.

For once, your body wasn’t coursing with insane amounts of adrenaline. Maybe the post project high wore off with age. Or maybe you’d finally discovered the limits to running yourself ragged. Either way, you were happy that when your head met your pillow, sleep was all but ready to welcome you instantly.

o passado

Your sophomore year internship was going to be the end of you.

Across every industry, it seemed that there was a rite of passage one had to complete in order to be considered a serious candidate. Going into working for your current firm, you held that belief too. But why?

You thought there’d be some lesson to be learnt or character to be built while being put through endless trials of your patience. Was it to make you value every level or work, or to not take your future position for granted? If that was the case, you didn’t need to go through them.

Everyone held some level of privilege. Whether you were fully able bodied, or neurotypical, or alive, regardless of anything else going on, you held something another wished they had. You’d never gone a day in your life without recognizing the privilege you possessed to be able to go to school, and then work a job.

The only thing the constant barrage of belittle comments, humiliating scolds and time wasting tasks achieved was making you feel disappointed. Was this all there was to life? Were you expected to obtain this badge of honor only to inflict the same horrors upon the next generation in hopes that they’d do the same?

Your tired legs carried you to bed where you curled into a little ball. What made this experience even more gut-wrenching was the misplaced guilt that crept in at moments like this. Sometimes recognizing your blessings came with a side of feeling ungrateful when you were sad because of them.

All those long days and nights your mom worked to sustain a comfortable life were undoubtably for you to even be in a position to be so stressed out. You couldn’t ever bring yourself to tell her just how hard some days were, especially knowing how much she must’ve suffered to provide for you alone.

“What’s wrong, coração?”

Ruben’s question made you whimper. You’d been trying to hold it in as much as possible so that you didn’t disturb him having fun in the living room with his friend. The go-to guise of yours was having to work on a report in order for you to duck out early.

He sank into the bed beside you and wrapped you in his arms. You shuddered, not even realizing that you hadn’t pulled up the duvet or shut the window against the winter air outside. His hand stroked your hair softly in a steady rhythm as your heartbeat slowed to mirror his own.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You choked out. “I can’t.”

Something about letting the voices in your head speak aloud felt even more devastating. Your body shook against his as you were hit with another wave of sobs. You felt stupid and weak and hopeless.

Ruben turned you over to face him, his brows pressed together with concern before tucking your head against his chest. He stroked the length of your spine while you cried, giving you the time you needed to let everything you felt pour out. When your shoulders finally stilled and your breathing regulated, he angled your face to look at you again.

“If you truly feel that way and want to quit, it’s okay.” Ruben wiped your cheeks with him thumb. “I won’t think less of you, neither will anyone else who loves you. More importantly, I don’t want you feeling this way or considering that decision make you see yourself as less than.”

You cupped his face with a trembling hand and touched your forehead to his, closing your eyes. With the emotional tsunami subsiding, you slowly put back together the pieces of your spirit.

It was difficult right now, but you genuinely loved what you were pursuing. Just because you were in this current predicament didn’t mean you’d stay there, or have to perpetuate it upon anyone else.

“I don’t want to give up, but…” Your voice was small.

“That’s it, then. All that matters.” His brown eyes crinkled at their edges. “You don’t want to give up on your dream.”

You shook your head, lips pouting.

Ruben sat upright and brought you with him. His hands engulfed your shoulders as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. You subconsciously found yourself doing the same. When yours reopened, you found him gazing at you lovingly.

“You can do it.” He led.

It was a journey to muster up the energy to follow, but you did, “I can do it.”

“You’re the best.” Ruben continued, hands coming down to squeeze your own.

“I’m the best.” You huffed out with a half laugh.

He brought your fingers to his lips, kissing the tips softly.

“That’s my girl.”

o presente

The blaring alarm from your phone on the bedside table didn’t startle you since you were already wide awake.

You’d gotten the most sleep you have in months the night before, but woke up earlier than you’d hoped. The past hour saw you staring into the darkness of your bedroom, groggy mind going places you were too tired to derail them from.

It was better to get those thoughts out of the way before you got your day started, you guessed. Especially those as important as the one that laid ahead.

With one last deep sigh, you threw off your duvet to get things moving. If you didn’t complete your morning routine, you wouldn’t be half of the person you needed to be. And you had to be even more than that given that the launch party was tonight.

You got dressed to go for a jog - indoors at the gym in your building this time, for obvious reasons. Avoiding songs with lyrics had been a habit you picked up since that unexpected run in too. Annoyingly, you were the type of person to be reminded of personal situations when hearing a singer croon about theirs that mirrored your own.

For an hour, you zoned out to a random chill house DJ set while your legs moved without a thought. After ending your run and stretching, you headed back up to your loft for a shower followed by a big breakfast.

You felt strangely serene despite all the recent chaos. For once, instead of questioning that, you decided to lean fully into it. On the way to the office, you even swung by a nearby cafe to pick up coffee for the girls. It would be a nice detour from the exhausted Nespresso machine.

“For me?’ Cindy beamed, taking in her signature flat white.

“Yes, for you.” A bright grin spread across your face. “And you, madame.”

Aki clutched her iced americano to her chest dramatically. “CEO of the year: Y/N.”

Your eyes rolled playfully as you all settled in for a quick recap. Something you liked to do after wrapping up a project was to firstly celebrate the work put in by everyone. Then, you analyzed strengths and weaknesses that could be improved upon for endeavors to come.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for making this process as hassle-free as possible and smashingly successful.” You concluded.

“We’re going to do great things together.” Cindy reached across the table to give each of your hands a squeeze.

“I’m so excited for our debut tonight!” Aki wiggled in her seat.

It wasn’t always a given that the client would invite outsourced teams to launch parties with their stakeholders, but Nike was gracious enough to extend an invitation to your team. They were clearly pleased with the work Bana presented, but this added an extra layer of validation.

The importance of an event like this also couldn’t be overstated. Though it was more or less a party, it was a huge networking opportunity. You and the girls had to be in your best form tonight to do the job that mattered most in this industry - marketing the firm.

After checking in on your home office and answering a few emails that could potentially produce leads, you joined Aki in her preparations for the event. It had been a minute since either of you had the opportunity to get this dolled up, so you decided to go all out.

Why not let the professionals do the heavy lifting? You felt more relaxed than you had in ages having someone else wash and style your hair. Even Aki had found herself less talkative than usual, going as far as nearly dozing off while she got her pedicure.

“You should wear that dress you’ve been saving. Remember the one you got when we were on vacation?” She suddenly perked up.

“The one from Nice?” You scrambled to find the exact one she meant. Shopping on vacation was a kryptonite of yours, making her meaning a bit difficult to pinpoint.

Aki shook her head, “Santorini…”

“Ah,” Your eyes bulged and then you nodded. “Santorini.”

There was rarely a time where you experienced love at first sight with clothing. Most of your pieces were carefully thought out and heavily deliberated upon prior to purchasing. Classic, sleek and complimentary trumped jumping on trend bandwagons to you.

When you saw that dress on the mannequin in the window, you felt like you had an out of body experience. The soft cream color, the draping with it’s exposed back and beaded details - it was a no brainer that you had to have it.

Tonight was the perfect occasion to finally break her in.

It went with the theme you’d decided on for your team’s fist major outing as well. In the spirit of celebrating Bana, Cindy suggested wearing the colors in the logo - cream, burnt orange and sage green. There were no limits to your options, anyone could choose any color and it didn’t matter if you all showed up in the same hue.

You'd just finished fastening your chunky gold hoops when Aki’s knock sounded from the door. She was always on the dot, so that meant you had exactly five seconds to head out to the car waiting downstairs.

“Good lord…” Her mouth dropped at your appearance.

“Stop,” You scrunched your nose. “Is the slight glisten on the skin too much?”

“It’s perfect! You’re giving trophy.” She gave a thumbs up.

“And you look like a sunset on the Gulf.” Your hand extended to grab hers, giving her a twirl to make the orange fabric of her halter-cut gown dance.

If there was ample time, you two would’ve stood in the hallway having a compliment battle. The ticking clock, however, demanded that you haul ass since there was one last stop to be made before arriving at the event.

“You look like a fairy!” Aki gasped as Cindy hopped into the back of the car.

“A sexy wood nymph, I hope.” She arched a freshly shaped brow.

You made a noise of agreement, “It’s exactly that.”

Fate played its hand well tonight given that you all ended up blindly choosing different colors. Cindy’s dress looked like something straight off a Dipesta runway - a soft, dreamy green that perfectly sculpted her frame.

The team’s car arrived just in time for a few photos to be taken before receiving an escort to your table. Aki took an appreciative sip of the champagne that was poured, savoring the bubbles in her mouth.

If you didn’t know she tended to not drink while working on huge projects, you might’ve thought she was a weirdo. You took a sip of your own and understood her pleasure even more — it was fucking delicious.

“I’d like to thank everyone for coming tonight to celebrate this new line of our iconic Air Max. Even though we’re still a few months out from consumer purchasing, each one of you here has made it possible to bring this dream of ours to life.” Nike’s CEO began.

A short round of applause followed. Their words filled you with gratitude and relief. The best part of branding a product like this was that you got in and out early. Everything was in their hands now and you wished them the best of luck on the remainder of their journey.

“A special thanks goes out to our major partners, who’ll be pivotal in the time leading up to the release.” They continued, point towards a table near yours. “We look forward to seeing them on our Manchester City players on European nights and beyond.”

You clapped along with the other attendees, eyes following the direction of their attention. The meeting of your hands slowed to a stop. Only a few feet away from you sat the owner of the brilliant grin that haunted you, that same expression returned to the speaker on the podium for their words.

Aki sensed a shift in your energy instantly, looking at you and then picking up your line of sight. She squeezed your knee to bring you back to the present. Your burning eyes blinked before turning to hers.

Are you okay? They silently asked. You mustered a small smile and placed a hand overs hers. I’m good.

“Our concept with this new shoe in the Air Max line was to really emphasize that trademark, shock absorbing feel that they’re known for.” The head of the design team took the stage.

As much as you wanted to give them your undivided attention, you struggled to keep your eyes forward without shifting off to the left. Get it together, Y/N, now’s not the time. You took a breath breath and held it, begging oxygen to flow straight to your brain.

“The team at Bana really understood what we were going for and found the perfect way to translate that to the masses. A big shout out to you lot for being absolute rockstars.” They saluted your table.

Faces filled with smiles turned in your direction, crippling your efforts to steady your nerves. You somehow gathered what you needed to slightly bow your head in appreciation before they continued with their speech.

Cindy inhaled sharply and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Uh, don’t look, but Ruben Dias is staring over here for some reason. Do you guys know him?”

Fuck it.

Any hope of regaining a sense of normalcy to your night was thrown in the trash. It wouldn’t ever be a usual occurrence as long as you two ended up in the same space. It couldn’t.

You had to stop avoiding that, especially considering that this wasn’t your fault. You’re not the reason why it felt like trying to breathe outside during a heat wave whenever you shared the same space as him.

“Yeah,” Your eyes locked with his, unshifting. “Something like that.”

It didn’t take a detective to realize that your words were loaded. Cindy was quicker than most to pick up on that and her back quickly rejoined with her seat. Aki downed the rest of her champagne, signaling discretely for a top up as soon as the flute touched the table.

She was right on cue for the start of the event’s mixer portion.

You swiped a fresh glass from a tray being floated around the room and tapped into the part of your brain that gave you laser focus. Bana was your priority, had been for the past four years, and nothing - or no one - would ruin that.

The head of design was your first stop. It was only fitting that you return the kindness they’d extended to you in their speech and throughout working with their team. They promised to keep your firm high in their mind when cooking the next great invention for all your hard work.

Cindy introduced you to her mystery contact who was on the executive side. You got to know a bit more about how they met, the middle-aged woman being her former advisor at her university. It said a lot to you as an employer to see that she still kept very strong connections with people she’d met years prior.

Aki was working her charm as usual with some guys who seemed to be too shy to get into the cocktail hour. You weren’t sure about their affiliations, but everyone in this room was worth sparing a conversation. Besides, she’d definitely fill you in later.

“Are you Bana’s CEO?” An accented voice spoke from behind you.

He was tall, tuxedo fitted to his huge frame with superior precision. Oddly handsome too, though you couldn’t pinpoint if his lips were real or not. He was also the person sitting beside Ruben, if you weren’t mistaken.

“I am, nice to meet you.” You shook his hand. “And you’re in the City squad. Excuse my ignorance, I don’t keep up with football.”

His laugh exuded relief, strangely. “That’s quite alright, I can imagine how busy you must be. I play up front, Erling Haaland.”

If there was any waver if your expression, you did well to mask it. So, he was Ruben’s teammate. It made you question whether or not he knew anything about your previous relationship to his coworker.

“I hope our firm continues to have a good relationship with Nike, maybe we’d keep running into each other at events like this.” Though far from explicit, your tone was leading. What was his reason for approaching you?

“It’s something I hope for as well, though I might want to pull your attention away from them just a bit.” Erling smirked.

Suddenly, you became the one being roped in. “How so?”

“I’ve been looking for a change in my own personal branding. Based on what you did here, I’d be interested in having a conversation with you and your team.” He answered directly.

This time, it was your tiny laugh that was filed with relief. No grilling about your past, then. Even better was the fact that you’d potentially lined up a new business opportunity. Was continuing to work in this particular vein the smartest idea? Yes and no.

But you didn't have the luxury of playing it safe currently, you also didn’t particularly care to anymore. Manchester was just as much yours as it was his for the taking.

“We’d love to hear what you have in mind.” You smiled.

Erling accepted your contact via Airdrop, telling you to keep an ear out from a call from his assistant before excusing himself to make more rounds. You bit down on your bottom lip to ground yourself from showing just how good it felt to be in top form. Not just yet, that could wait until you were done hunting for the night.

You refocused on combing through the sea of people for your girls to see if they needed bailing out. Unfortunately, classy gatherings like this didn’t put a halt to rather tasteless behavior from men. You'd just spotted Aki cackling at something the person she was speaking to said, thankfully, when your view was obstructed by yet another tuxedo clad chest.

Salt water, patchouli, sage…tobacco.

Your sense knew it was him before your eyes combed up to meet his. It was the same potent yet subtle fragrance that lingered on his jacket, and your skin, even after you’d washed them.

“I always knew you could this.” Ruben’s voice made your flesh raise.

You can do it. You’re the best. That’s my…

“Well,” You spoke aloud to shut the memory out. “I guess deep down I did too.”

Awkward silence took the reigns yet again in an encounter neither of you expected. Unlike the previous one, it wasn’t an empty street providing him with the opportunity to say any of the things you wanted to hear. It certainly wasn’t the place to get into why he’d so terribly and abruptly ripped your heart clean out of your chest.

“Excuse m-”

“Y/N.” His call paralyzed you.

From within your own body, you watched helplessly as he stepped just a bit closer - shined loafers nearly meeting your gold sandals. Ruben was never in the business of hiding what was on his mind, a trait that evidently remained as he scanned over your daringly cut gown.

At that moment, it felt like more of a curse than a blessing that you chose to wear this of all things tonight.

“If it make things too…difficult, me being teammates with Erling” He whispered. “I can make sure there are no questions if you want to decline.”

A fault line appeared in your composure as you scoffed, blinking in disbelief like you’d been physically struck. Who the fuck did he think he was? Actually, who was this person standing in front of you?

The Ruben you knew was far from this version. Someone who was all but telling you to walk away, much less based on an assumption that his presence in a client’s life was too much for you to handle. Because what, he broke your heart almost a decade ago? Did he really think he held that much power of you still?

Him being here tonight might’ve been a good thing. If you hadn’t ran into him again, you’d still be subconsciously romanticizing the past and letting your mind dip into the imaginary pool of what ifs for longer than you deserved.

Seven years was a long time. It seemed to give Ruben a level of audacity that quite frankly made you feel an emotion that you didn’t think was possible when it came to him, disgust.

Your limbs were suddenly free of any stiffness, and quicker than he could object, you made your way to the exit. You weren’t running away from him this time. Leaving was for the best given the fact that you were seeing red. Besides that, you’d already secured something of a win.

An opportunity that you were going to pursue with every ounce of your being.

#ruben dias #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #being

[shadowofchwe]

(3...2...1...) domino | vernon chwe

Turns out stealing your best friend’s food wasn’t the best idea. Especially when said best friend has recently gotten much stronger and faster than you. The consequences of something so simple set off a domino effect, and before you know it you’re both falling into something faster than you ever thought possible.

🧡 Pairing: bestfriend!vernon x reader

🧡 Word Count: 5.1k

🧡 Genre: Best friends to lovers, fluff, smut

🧡 Rating: 18+

🧡 Warnings: Explicit language, Vernon doesn't like having his food stolen 😤, a friendly game of chase, playful rough housing, a one sided pillow fight (oof @ Vernon), lots of ✨tension✨, teasing, strength kink because Vern has been working out, explicit sexual content, making out, hair pulling, biting/marking/scratching, groping, name kink (@ Vern 🤩), whiny and needy Vernon but also he has low low key dom vibes at times, reader is a bit of a brat at times, dirty talk, praise, multiple consent check ins we love to see it 🥰, fingering, rough fingering, slight overstimulation, cum eating, more banter/teasing, oral (m receiving), deep throating, rough face fucking, it's playful and cute again at the end

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked the teaser and has been patiently waiting for this 🥰 I had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you enjoy it if you do decide to read it 🥺 Please look forward to more from me soon and thank you for all your love and support 😭😭💕💕

Masterlist

Taglist: @chwebychew @smuchsmut @romromthedeer

There were two things you were absolutely sure of.

One. You and Vernon were always going to be best friends.

And two. Never steal said best friend’s food unless you wanted to pay for it with your life.

However, there was an exception to the second thing. Stealing his food without getting caught. You had to time it just right though, and your window of opportunity was rapidly closing. Your best friend had just left your room to use the bathroom down the hall, leaving his enticing plate of dumplings completely unattended.

Had Vernon offered to get something for you when you had picked up food earlier? Yes. Had you been hungry then? No. Were you now starving and regretting your decision and contemplating an even riskier one? Unfortunately, yes. Fuck. He was gonna kill you. But only if you got caught.

You glanced down the hallway one more time, and saw no sign of your friend. With a somewhat already guilty conscience, you swiped one of the dumplings off his plate and quickly stuffed it into your mouth. You had just barely started to stressfully chew when, “I know you did not just do that.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, sheepishly turning around to face Vernon. He was standing in your open doorway with his black tee and jeans, arms crossed and a questioning brow raised at you. So much for not getting fucking caught. You tried to mumble out an embarrassed apology, but your mouth was still full so it just sounded like garbled nonsense.

“Okay, swallow. And then I’m gonna kill you.” Vernon said simply as you internally cursed yourself to hell and back.

You swear you had never chewed and swallowed something so fast in your life.

“Nonie, I’m sorry. I got hungry, and they smelled so good. Will you forgive me, pretty please?” you begged sweetly, flashing him your best “I’m sorry” puppy dog eyes.

Vernon’s expression was literally unreadable right now. Yeah, that didn’t seem like a great sign.

“I will give you a ten second head start.”

You stared at him in confusion, “Head start for what?”

“To run.”

You let out a nervous laugh, your best friend’s features still unchanging.

“You’re joking right?”

“One.”

“Vernon, please, we are two grown adults.”

“Two.”

“C’mon, Nonie, this is ridiculous.”

“Three.”

You had never seen him look so serious about something in the entire time you’d known him. Over a fucking dumpling. Your best friend was fast though, and here you were still standing there wasting precious seconds.

“Vernon.”

One last ditch effort.

“Four.”

“Fuck!” you exclaimed before finally pushing past him to run out of the room.

There was no fucking way that man had finished counting to ten because you heard his footsteps bounding after you a moment later.

“You fucking cheater!” you yelled back at him as you raced into the living room.

“What can I say? You’re a thief, and I count fast.” he replied nonchalantly, and you quickly dashed behind the couch to put a barrier between the two of you.

You groaned, “This is a little drastic for a dumpling, don’t you think?”

Your best friend shrugged in response.

“You know how I feel about food.”

“So, you’re really gonna chase me around the house like we’re little kids? All because I ate one, ONE, of your dumplings?!” you asked incredulously, eyes darting around the room to look for an opening to escape.

“You could just stop running. We both know I’m gonna catch you regardless.”

There was a smugness to his tone, and the challenge in his eyes ignited something in you. An overwhelming desire to prove his cocky ass wrong.

You both moved at the same time. Vernon rushed to the side of the couch to block your means of escape, but you were already scrambling to climb over the top and sprinting out of his reach and back down the hallway to your room. The triumph of your escape was short lived, however, because Vernon was tackling you onto your bed the moment you entered the room, “Gotcha dumpling thief!”

You let out a sound of surprise as the two of you tumbled across your sheets. You ended up side by side on your bed, noses almost touching from the close proximity.

“Vernon, what the hell!” you demanded, giving his shoulder a light, but purposeful shove.

“Okay, ow. You know, to be fair, I did warn you.”

“We aren’t kids anymore, you can’t just do shit like that. We could’ve broken my bed, or one or both of us could’ve gotten seriously hurt.” you scolded him with a stern frown on your features, and all it earned you was your best friend chuckling under his breath in response.

“Are you fucking laughing at me! You asshole!” you shouted before pushing on his shoulder again.

You were more annoyed than angry, but you also didn’t want Vernon to think you were letting him off that easy. And yet, he was still laughing. Oh, he was a dead man.

“Sorry, it’s just, I think we’d have to do a lot more than that to break the fucking bed.” he voiced cheekily, eyes dancing with amusement.

“Vernon Chwe, I am going to kill you!!” you roared, and in the next moment you were sitting on top of him.

His eyes changed instantly, but you couldn’t quite read what they were trying to convey. Not that it really mattered, because his expression changed again as soon as you retrieved a pillow from the head of the bed and struck him with it.

“Fuck. Wait. I’m sorry!” he tried, but you just brought the pillow down on him again.

Vernon, ever with the dramatics, let out a high pitched scream every time you hit him. You knew you weren’t doing any real damage, and if his interspersed giggles were anything to go by, you would say he was even enjoying it.

Your best friend had never lost his inner child, even now that both of you were well into your twenties. If you were being honest, it was actually one of the things you loved most about him. You really found it so cute and endearing. Not to mention contagious because you found yourself starting to laugh along with him.

You lost the energy and drive to keep striking him and let the pillow fall from your hands. Both of you were trying to catch your breath and contain your giggles.

“Satisfied now?”

“I am actually, thank you. Don’t ever pull that shit with me again.” you answered, doing your best to sound threatening, but it was proving really difficult at the moment.

You looked down at your hands splayed across Vernon’s stomach, and suddenly remembered that you were still straddling your best friend. His black tee had even started to ride up a little…

Your face felt hot, and you prayed that the reaction would go unnoticed by him. If only you could’ve been so lucky. That same something flashed in his eyes again followed by a curious smirk taking over his face, “Are you blushing?”

“W-What no! S-Shut up. It’s just hot in h-here.” you stuttered back in reply, looking anywhere but at him.

And you were still sitting on him. This was your best friend for fucks sake, just get off the man!

“Hey,” Vernon’s hands gently smoothed over your hips suddenly, “what’s going on in that head of yours?”

You looked down to see his eyes searching your face for some sort of answer to his question.

“Honestly?” you queried back, nervous energy radiating throughout your body.

“Well I asked, didn’t I?” Vernon pointed out, and there was that curious little smile again.

“Okay, but you can’t laugh. Or I will smother you with one of these pillows. Got it?”

Your best friend held up in his hands in innocence, “No laughing. Got it.”

You sighed as you contemplated the risk of telling him exactly what was running through your head right now. Ugh, it all went back to those fucking dumplings. You decided to just say fuck it for the second time that day.

“Well, we’re in somewhat of a compromising position right now. And all I can think about is how weird it feels that this doesn’t feel weird…” you trailed off, and you could feel the blush on your cheeks deepening.

“Oh.” he said softly, and your immediate instinct was suddenly to backtrack as fast as possible.

“U-Unless it feels weird for you and here I am still sitting on you and rambling like an idiot-”

“Y/N.” Vernon interjected, but you were too caught up in trying to save face.

"You know what actually, this is weird. I don’t know what I was talking about. Just forget it, okay? I-”

“Y/N.”

Something in his voice made you finally stop, “Yeah?”

“We’re being honest right now, right?”

You just nodded as your nerves ran rampant. Now Vernon was the one who seemed like he couldn’t look at you. You thought you maybe even noticed some color in his cheeks, but that was most likely just your imagination.

“Nonie, it’s me. Just talk to me.” you coaxed gently, your best friend finally meeting your gaze again.

“Honestly, I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” you pressed, voice coming out hushed.

You definitely didn’t think you were imagining the bright red hue quickly spreading across his entire face. Your heartbeat felt deafening, and you wondered if he could hear it too.

“I’m scared because of how good this feels. You’re right, it should feel so fucking weird. But it just…doesn’t.”

A small gasp escaped from your lips, and when your eyes met again it was like he was seeing straight through you to your soul.

You were scared too. Scared of what this could mean. And the longer you stared into his big, beautiful, brown eyes, the more terrified you felt. But there was also an underlying curiosity and excitement coursing through you.

"You trust me, right?" Vernon asked, breaking the prior silence.

His hands settled on your waist again, and something about all of this just felt so…right. So natural.

"Always."

The devious grin he flashed you had you reconsidering your answer as mischief sparked in his eyes, "Famous last words."

Before you even had a chance to ask him what he meant by that, you were letting out a yelp as he effortlessly flipped the two of you over. In one fluid motion he had pinned you beneath him, arms caging you in on either side. You stared up at him incredulously, and your heart raced furiously.

“Okay. When in the hell did you get so strong?” you paused as your eyes drifted to one of his muscular arms, “And when did your arms get so fucking big, holy shit!”

You reached out to touch him out of habit, and something about the way you could feel his muscles flexing under your hand had you feeling slightly dizzy. You’d always thought and known that Vernon was handsome. Hot sometimes even. But right now, being pinned under him like this..

Your best friend chuckled, the sound pulling you back from your dangerous thoughts, and your hand falling from his arm.

“I have been going to the gym, remember?”

You’d known this of course. He’d even been constantly bugging you to go with him. But this was the first time you were really noticing the change in his physique. Jesus. Had he always been this fucking broad.

“So…does it feel weird yet?” he thankfully interrupted your mind spiral once again.

“Not even a little bit. You’re right, this is scary.” you admitted with a nervous laugh.

“Fucking terrifying.” Vernon agreed quietly as he gazed down at you, eyes focusing on your lips for a split second before shooting back up to meet your own.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you questioned, reflecting his own phrase back at him.

Your best friend blinked in surprise at your query, and his entire face flushed crimson once more.

“Honestly. All I can think about right now…is how bad I want to kiss you. And how if I do…then everything changes.”

Your own face grew hot at his confession. And suddenly it felt like the two of you had always been heading here. To this moment. To each other.

“So kiss me.”

It took you a few seconds to realize you’d actually said the words out loud and not just in your head. The way Vernon’s eyes grew wide was what really gave it away.

“Wait. What?” he inquired, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the cute clueless expression on his face.

“As per usual, we’re sharing the same single brain cell. Which means…I wanna kiss you just as bad.”

This time Vernon was the one who gasped, and you had literally never found him more endearing.

“Maybe even more.” you added playfully, giving him a knowing look.

“Fuck.” he breathed, “Not possible.”

Now it was your eyes wandering to his mouth. You’d genuinely never noticed before, but he had really pretty lips. Like really pretty. They looked really soft too… Oh, you were going to lose it if you didn’t kiss him that very second.

But then he kissed you. And you fucking lost it anyway.

It shouldn’t have been possible to feel like you’d been knocked off your feet when you were literally already laying down. And yet, the moment his lips had touched yours the world had immediately crumbled underneath you.

All you knew was instinct as you kissed him back with surprising furiosity. Instinct and Vernon.

Vernon.

Vernon.

Your hands were in his hair. His tongue was in your mouth. He was invading all your senses and dragging you down, down, down, with him. And right now, you were more than happy to follow the descent.

A mixture of soft pants filled the air as Vernon’s weight pressed down harder on you. You tugged at his chestnut strands, and his teeth grazed your lips in retaliation. You pulled a little harder, your nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned into your mouth before repositioning himself so that he could slide his arms under your back and hold you closer.

Your hands left his hair in favor of fisting handfuls of the back of his shirt instead. Vernon slotted one of his legs between yours, and he swallowed the gasp that slipped out when you felt his thigh press up against you. One of your legs curled around his waist, and he grunted in response. A large hand trailed down to grip onto your thigh, his fingers simultaneously digging into your ass.

And still, not a single part of this felt weird. If anything, it felt electrifying. Like every single one of your nerves was catching fire. Like the two of you would just burn and burn until you consumed each other to ash.

His lips suddenly left yours to follow the line of your jaw, his hair tickling your face. You hummed and could instantly feel Vernon smiling against you. It made warmth bloom in your chest.

Your hands snuck under his shirt to feel more of him, fingers tracing over the defined muscles in his back. You found yourself wondering, actually dying to know, what he looked like naked… Probably like some kind of fucking Greek god if what you’d seen so far was anything to go by.

All thoughts, including the one about wanting to see your best friend naked, flew straight out of your head the moment his mouth attached itself to your neck. That cute, smiley boy was gone. Now he was all hunger. All desire. All tongue and teeth. Kissing and sucking and biting as you squirmed and sighed out beneath him.

Vernon knew you. Maybe better than anyone. Which meant he found the sensitive spot on your neck in record time. He was smiling again. Smirking actually. Shit eating grin as he sucked against your skin, hard enough to definitely leave a mark.

“Such a fucking cheater.” you breathed out, and Vernon chuckled into your neck.

“Where’s the fun in playing fair?” he murmured before biting down on the same spot.

“Vernon, fuck!” you cried out, your body twisting underneath him.

His tongue soothed the spot a moment later and the moan slipped out before you could stop it. Your face burned furiously, and Vernon pulled back from marking up your neck.

“Holy shit.” he whispered, eyes going wide in surprise.

“Fuck you. You know that spot is extremely sensitive. That was just evil.” you whined, your cheeks growing hotter and hotter.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

His statement had caught you completely off guard, and you blinked up at him, “Wait, what?”

Vernon’s own face flushed, and you desperately wanted to kiss him again.

“I just, I can’t believe I made you sound like that. You sound so, pretty…”

That sent your heart racing again. Only this time, you actually hoped he could hear it. So he would know he was having just as much of an effect on you as you were on him.

“I wonder what other sounds I can get you to make.” he mused as his eyes traveled the length of your body.

Your thighs rubbed together as a reflex, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Vernon.

“What do you think?” he queried, thumb gently gripping your chin to hold your gaze, “Should we find out?”

“Only if I get to find out what you sound like too.” you answered with surprising confidence.

Vernon raised an eyebrow at you, and you copied him out of habit.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, “you first, princess.”

Your brain had just barely started to form a response, when you felt his thigh brush against your still covered core once more. You whimpered at the stimulation, and Vernon’s eyes grew noticeably hazy at the sound.

“Shit. You’re really killing me right now, you know that?” he groaned, and it honestly shocked you just how hot whining suddenly sounded coming from him.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

Your best friend swallowed nervously as he stared down at you, “Are you absolutely sure about this? I meant what I said before. If we cross this line…then everything changes. Everything.”

You didn’t even hesitate before taking hold of his shirt to yank him back down to your mouth for a searing kiss. His strong hands immediately gripped your hips, pushing the material of your shirt up just slightly. You pulled back, tugging his bottom lip with your teeth as you did so, “Then let it change.”

“Fuck.” Vernon growled, and then his mouth was descending on you again.

You moaned freely now as he made patches of color bloom across your chest, your fingers twisting back into his already messy locks. His teeth scraped along your collar bones, and his hands slid up higher. Your skin warmed as his palms smoothed over your back, resting just under the clasp of your bra. His fingers tentatively brushed over the fabric as his loving kisses trailed lower, ghosting over the tops of your breasts.

“Vernon.”

His name left your lips as a dreamy sigh.

“Tell me what you want, princess.”

The nickname actually wasn’t anything new. In fact, it was one that had stuck since you were both kids. The context, however, was brand fucking new. And the raspiness of his already deep voice was really doing something to you.

“Fuck, touch me. Please.” you pleaded breathlessly.

He moaned softly into the skin of your neck, the sound like the most beautiful music you had ever heard. His fingers were shaking as he clumsily undid the clasp, and you quickly sat up to slide the garment down your arms and out from under your shirt. You were shedding your shirt a moment later, and Vernon inhaled sharply.

“Wait, YN-”

You reached out to take one of his hands and placed it directly over your racing heart, “I trust you, remember.”

He let out a small gasp before closing the space between you to kiss you gently. His hands started to curve around your breasts after several seconds, and you sighed at the contact.

“You’re so pretty, shit. And so soft.” he voiced as his large hands fully enveloped you, softly kneading your flesh.

One of his thumbs swiped over your nipple and you hissed, head falling back slightly. Vernon carefully maneuvered you to lay back down, and you cried out when his hands were suddenly being replaced by his warm mouth. He took his time mapping out your chest with his lips, tongue, and teeth, with you squirming and whining beneath him all the while. His lips wrapped around one of your perked buds, and something inside you snapped.

“Fucking shit. Hansol.” you moaned loudly, not even registering what you had accidentally just called him.

You had used his first name on very very few occasions. He had always just been Vernon to you. But the things he was doing to you was making it nearly impossible to think straight, and it had just slipped out during your rush of pleasure. He lifted his head and used one of his hands to sweep his hair back from his face, his eyes almost completely swallowed by darkness.

“God, princess. You can’t just fucking do that.” Vernon scolded you, a noticeable whiny and needy edge to his voice.

“Hansol.”

“Fuck.” he growled, “Stop that.”

“Make me, Hansol.” you fired back, eyes blazing with challenge.

Vernon shook his head at you and chuckled darkly, “Bratty little princess.”

You barely had time to process before one of his strong arms was laid across your stomach, pinning you down as his other hand slowly started undoing your jeans.

“If we need to stop, just say the word.”

He slowly slid your zipper all the way down. Every part of you was screaming in anticipation.

“W-What are you doing?” you asked, voice shaky.

Vernon’s eyes flicked up to meet your own, and a wicked little smirk was decorating his handsome face. You clenched around absolutely nothing.

“Making you.”

Without any further hesitation, his fingers slipped past the waistband of your underwear to make contact with your slick folds.

“Holy shit.” he swore under his breath, “You’re fucking soaked.”

You were shaking underneath him. You felt like if you didn’t get some part of him inside you, you were going to go crazy. Vernon seemed to be past the point of feeling unsure though because he wasted no time before slipping one of his long digits past your walls. You whimpered, your hands digging into the sheets below you.

He watched, mesmerized, as he drew his finger back out before pumping it into you again. He added another digit a moment later, and your back rose off the bed as you cried out.

“God, you feel incredible, princess. I can’t believe how well you’re taking my fingers.” he praised you, his voice husky and laced with want.

His fingers started drilling into you faster, and he grunted as he used his other arm to hold down your thrashing body.

“Oh my God…Vernon.”

“You gonna come for me, princess?” he pressed, stretching you out even more by going up to three digits.

You actually were about to come surprisingly fast. How the fuck was it that he knew your body so well even though this was the first time you had ever done this? But he was reaching that spot inside you with ridiculous ease, and pushing you steadily towards your high. His thumb passed over your clit, and your body jolted at the stimulation.

“Fuck. I’m close.”

Vernon groaned before beginning to rub your clit in time with his fingers fucking into you, and you felt ready to scream at this point as your eyes screwed shut.

“Shit…Vernon…” your voice trailed off as your breathing was rapidly increasing.

“You can let go, princess. I’ve got you.” Vernon said gently, a complete contrast to the harsh motion of his hand inside you.

You opened your eyes to see him intently staring down at you, brows furrowed and biting his lip in concentration. He looked so sexy right now, and you clenched hard around his fingers before soaking them with your release. Vernon cursed loudly, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm until you were crying at the overstimulation.

As soon as he was pulling his fingers from you, he was immediately slipping them into his mouth to suck them clean, moaning at the taste.

“Fuck, princess. You taste so sweet.” he groaned, and you found your eyes wandering to the bulge in his jeans for the first time.

Fucking hell. He must’ve been huge. You were determined to find out for yourself as you suddenly got up from the bed, pulling Vernon up beside you. Still in the midst of your post orgasm haze, you dropped to your knees on your bedroom floor. Vernon's eyes went wide, and you began frantically pulling at his belt.

“Shit, Y/N, you don’t-”

“If we need to stop, then tell me. Otherwise, I need you to shut up cause I want to suck you off.” you explained simply as you yanked his belt from the loops in one swift movement.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

You grinned up at him devilishly before undoing his jeans just as quickly. Seeing the way his cock was straining against his boxers had your mouth starting to water slightly.

“We’ve literally known each other forever, and even after all that time, I had no idea you were packing. Holy shit.” you remarked, your hands gripping his waistband.

You glanced up to see Vernon blushing furiously, making you giggle.

“Oh my God, please just stop.” he whined cutely.

“Lucky for you, I actually will have to cause my mouth will be full in a minute.”

A sense of satisfaction ran through you when you saw his dick twitch in his boxers. Finally, you would get to see firsthand what he looked and sounded like when he was being pleasured. The thought excited you to no end.

Vernon’s eyes never left you as you tugged down his boxers to free his cock, and it immediately bounced up against his stomach. Your eyes widened because he was really was fucking huge. Like you could already preemptively feel the ache in your jaw. But you genuinely wanted to do this for him, even if it caused you some discomfort in the process.

You didn’t even warn Vernon before licking a stripe along the underside of his cock.

“Oh fucking hell.” he breathed, hand immediately shooting out behind him to grip onto the edge of your bed.

“Maybe you should sit down. Don’t want you passing out on me.” you teased, and red flooded his face once more.

“Shut up.” he muttered under his breath, but he took a seat on the end of your bed anyway.

You situated yourself back in front of him, “Now, sit back and relax, princess.”

“Y/N, I swear to God-”

He cut himself off with a choked moan as soon as your lips wrapped around his tip. You slowly took him in further, Vernon’s hands desperately fisting the sheets as he panted out above you.

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

You kept going until you felt his cock reach the back of your throat.

“Oh my God, your mouth.”

You swallowed around him, and his head tipped back as he cried out. He really looked stunning from this angle. His eyes were fluttering as his chest heaved up and down, and the veins in his neck strained beautifully against his skin.

The obscene noise of you bobbing your head up and down his length filled up the space of your bedroom. Your hands dug into his thighs as you started going faster. You felt the weight of Vernon’s hand on your head, and barely had time to process before he was shoving you all the way down his cock and making you choke around him. He released you just as quickly, “Fuck, sorry! You just feel so fucking good. I got carried away for a second.”

Your only response was to reach for his hand and place it back atop your head. If he wanted to take control, then that was exactly what you wanted him to do. You honestly found it so fucking hot when he did.

Your throat constricted around him yet again, and his hips jerked against your mouth. His fingers were tangling into your hair a moment later and pulling hard at the strands as he pushed his cock down your throat again. You moaned with him still in your mouth, and the vibration had his nails scraping against your scalp as he groaned sweetly above you. He started fucking your mouth at his own pace, using his hold on your head to keep you still.

“Just like that, princess. Shit.”

Tears were starting to build in your eyes as you spluttered and choked on him again and again. But the gorgeous whines and whimpers leaving his mouth made it all so fucking worth it.

“Fuck. Can I come in your mouth, princess? You’re getting me so close.”

You gave a small nod of your head, and felt the tears start to slide down your cheeks. Vernon’s thrusts were starting to lose their rhythm as his cries grew louder.

“Shit, you feel…so good. I’m not…gonna last.”

Your head had just started to feel a little hazy, when you felt him jerk inside your mouth before shooting his release down your throat. You made sure to swallow it all before pulling off him to get some much needed oxygen back into your lungs.

“Holy fucking shit.” Vernon rasped out, “Well, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You beamed proudly at him from your spot on the floor, still trying to catch your breath.

“So…I would say our friendship is sufficiently ruined.” he added, chuckling slightly.

“Oh yeah, absolutely. Wanna go get some dumplings?” you proposed as you carefully got to your feet.

Vernon just stared at you for several seconds.

“What? I’m fucking starving.”

More staring.

“You’re gonna chase me around the house again aren’t you?”

“I’ll give you a real head start this time.” Vernon finally spoke up.

“Oh wow, that’s really considerate of you.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know.”

Despite his “threat”, you had a feeling neither of you would be leaving your room for quite some time. There was plenty more friendship ruining to do, and something told you this was just the beginning of a much bigger domino effect.

#seventeen #vernon #seventeen smut #vernon smut #seventeen fluff #vernon fluff #seventeen fic #vernon fic

[sociieties]

@barrenstars said: not a word has been uttered since he entered her shop and he definitely knows it's because of something he's done. what? he isn't sure, but he's done something to earn the silent treatment. he could just tell. after whining at her for ten minutes like a child, he shuts up and sits in a mini huff, pondering over his actions the last few days. he's missed a few phone calls, and hasn't answered a few texts. but that's about it, right? he hasn't done anything too bad. perhaps aside from cancelling a date last minute... his brows shoot up underneath his bangs and he becomes aware of her moving when she squeezes by him. like a lost puppy, he follows her but waits at the doorway leading into the backroom. he stands there, arms crossed comfortably until she goes to walk by him, and then he cuts her off with a single arm reaching out and blocking her path. ❝ soraaaa~ please, i'm sorry! ❞ pouting down at her, sana's hunched slightly over the green-haired woman. dropping his arm, he snakes it around her waist and draws her in closer, his opposite arm lifting up to grip the edges of the doorway, towering over her given his height. ❝ how about this... i'll take you out tonight, somewhere real nice, i'll take you shopping and buy you some even nicer things... then i'll take you back to mine and i'll be the nicest i've ever been to you, hm...? ❞ he speaks with a sleazy hum, but the hand which left her waist to rest by her jaw is nothing but gentle, the tips of his fingers gracing over the soft skin at her undereye. ❝ will that make you forgive me~? ❞

the thing about sora, that sana doesn't know, is that she's really good at ignoring people. so much so that she doesn't see people if she doesn't want to, doesn't hear them, if she doesn't want to -- in this case, it's her boyfriend who doesn't exist to her. stopped existing to her when he called off their date last minute and if anyone asked her, she'd say that she wasn't overreacting in the slightest. she'd been looking forward to the date, having already dressed up nicely for it and even -- well. it doesn't matter anymore, since it's already passed and her stupid, sleazy boyfriend is here, now, trying to figure out what the issue is. whatever. she has no time for him even if she wanted to entertain him, spends the time choosing to actually focus on her work for once. ( generally speaking, sana, the sana that exists in sora's mind that doesn't ditch her dates, that sana, is rather distracting to her. so much so that she seldom tends to her inventory when he's around. today, however -- )

she's thinking about all the things she needs to restock when her path is blocked. while her expression is unchanging, she almost groans, staring though him when the he whines her name. she's busy, sana. she's upset, too, more upset than busy, but he remains in his way, pulling her in and her eyes roll. tch. " forgive you for what? " she asks dryly, still refusing to look at him. " did you do something wrong, sana? " she knows the answer. he knows the answer. that doesn't mean that she'll let him have his way, she's being kind enough to speak, even if she doesn't catch his gaze. unfortunately she likes him too much to ignore him for long. " do you have to do something wrong for you to do all that for me? "

#there is more to life; ! answered #izumi sora // ic #barrenstars #barrenstars: sana

[travellingarmy]

║Venti║ Stars (R)

Requested from Wattpad.

Female reader as requested.

Warning: •Those who does not know what R-rated means, it simply means that it is restricted to children under 17 (according to google).

•This will most likely be crap because I still don't know how to write NSFW oneshots.

Word count: 2.1k

---

"Just - hic - one more, Master Diluc!" Filled with the nightlife atmosphere in Angel's Share, Venti decided to join as well for the sake of sharing the same joy every Mondstadtian holds.

"You do know that these aren't free.." Diluc grumbles, a look of irritation visible on his face. "And don't you think you've had enough? You've had 33 glasses now."

"Ah, I can never get enough of Master Diluc's amazing brew!" the small bard exclaims. Diluc's face remained unchanged by the complement and went to make another glass for him. "You better pay for these."

"Haha, oh, Master Diluc, aren't you the jokester." Venti giggles. "I'm not joking," Diluc plainly said. "Haha, oh well.. Anyway.." Sounds of chatter drown out the taller male's warning that night by a loud bard who was starting to become tipsier with each drink.

After a couple more drinks- actually, it totalled to 50- Venti was now showing signs of passing out with his head on the counter, aside from occasional giggles and hiccups. Diluc grumbles in complete disbelief. Now that the bard was drunk, there was no way he would listen to his words.

An irritated sigh left the tavern owner's lips, seeing as he could do nothing about it. "I'll make sure you pay for it tomorrow so just go home," Diluc said to the bard who luckily listened, walking drunkenly out the tavern. "Thanks, Master Diluc!"

The cold air of the night brushed past the skin of the male, giggling as it tickles him. Oh how much he loves the wind so much.

Tonight, Venti did not go home- if he even has one- and instead, walk straight out of the city's gate; heading towards Starsnatch Cliff where he knew someone was sitting there all in her lonesomeness.

"(Y/N)!" the bard cheery voice made its way to your ears, making you turn to look at him. He waves and drunkenly giggles. "Venti, what are you doing here?"

"Hehe, I thought that my goddess wouldn't be asleep at this time and was here~" he answers, sitting down beside you. One sniff of him and your face wrinkled as if you were smelling a garbage site. "Ew, you went to the tavern again!?"

"Ehe." He shrugs, eyes closing into crescents as he smiled. You shook your head and brought your knees close to your chest, hugging it. You did not want to further push about the boring topic as it was quite often he would try to get wine from Diluc so silence was the only thing you could do.

You look at the stars in awe, a small smile tugging the corner of your lips. "It's quite nice today-- even the weather," you stated randomly. Venti leans back, using his arms as support. He took a glance at your soft figure before averting it to the sky you were seeing. "Even if it was cold, I would control the wind to make it warm for you," he points out, a smile of his own visible on his face.

In the midst of another silence, Venti's drunken state had his eyes started to wander on you, eyes tracing your face down to every detail. Your eyes that were half-lidded, your nose that was ever so his favourite feature, your lips-- oh let us not get into detail as to how much he loves those lips. Soon, his eyes wandered down to your neck and the strands of hair resting on it to tease him.

It might just be him being drunk and deluded or the atmosphere, but something in him wanted to do more than just looking at you.

With that being said, his hands slowly encircled your waist and drew you closer to him so that he could rest his chin on your shoulders. To you, it was just him wanting to hold you; nothing too suspicious and you continued to dismiss him.

However, that innocent thought was no longer when you felt his hands rub your sides in a slow and lustful manner. "V, Venti..!" you stutter, eyes widening as you look at him from the corner of your eyes.

He hums, eyes closed. "What is it, (Y/N)?" his voice still holding the same cheeky persona as his smile just grew wider. "U, um..!!" Your words died out on your tongue, the sudden rise of heat too overwhelming for you.

His lips made their way to your earlobe. "What's wrong, (Y/N)? Are you unwell?" he asks, a smirk replacing his playful smile. You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes, unsure of what to do as you felt something in your stomach. It was like a fluttering feeling when you see your crush, but quite different.

"Do you.. Want me to help you, (Y/N)?" he breathlessly asks and went to nibble the sensitive part of your ears. A whimper that escaped your throat failed you which just urge the male further. His lips then slowly made their way to your neck and he was suddenly washed with the intoxication of your smell.

Not waiting for a reaction, he starts off by licking your neck and soon, sucking it hard enough to leave a mark. Once again, another whimper left you. You felt embarrassed by the sounds you had made, but the growing heat in the atmosphere was too much for you to fight.

One of his hands made its way down your body, rubbing your thighs as the other massages one of your breasts. Your chests start to expand wider with each breath you take.

Venti's hands soon returned to your chest and began to unbutton your shirt ever so skillfully. Once it was fully undone to the last button, he moves in front of you, pushing you down the grass and hovering on top of you.

His eyes were filled with lust and craved for you and your body. Hungrily, he smashes his lips onto yours and had a full heated session. He licked the bottom of your lips and you obliged, opening your mouth to allow his tongue to adventure inside, winning dominance.

He went back and suck the other side of your neck, also leaving a mark there as his hands unclip your bra, kneading your breast between his fingers.

At that point, heat, too, filled your body and made your mind hazy, letting out a moan. Soon, his lips trailed downwards and took the other breast in his mouth. He continued to do so and switched to give the same attention to the other.

His hand went lower, pulling your skirt down to your thighs. Teasingly, he rubs his fingers on your clothed cunt and you moaned yet again. "Hehe, you are so naughty, (Y/N)~ Already this wet for me?" he says, continuing to run through the article.

Soon, he had enough of the teasing and pulled down your last piece of clothing, leaving you fully exposed to the cool air of the night while he was still fully clothed.

"Tell me, (Y/N), what do you want me to do~?" he asks, pressing his cold fingers on your cunt, making you whimper. When you didn't say anything, he leaned closer to your ears and whispered, "If you don't tell me.." He moves his fingers teasingly. "I could just leave it here~"

"N, no..!" You shot your eyes wide open, revealing your desperation and lust. "Hm~? Then tell me, what is it that you want me to do?" He smiles and his eyes were overshadowed with a dark playfulness.

"P, please.. I, I want your fingers.. In me.." you say, a bit embarrassed at the dirty words that left your tongue. Venti chuckles, but answered to your wish, plunging one finger inside which made you moan. Urged on by the sound, he entered a second one. "Look at you~ So greedy for my touch."

You weren't listening to his words as he starts pumping his fingers, slow at first to make you just whimper. "What do you want me to do now, (Y/N)?" he asks once again. "Is this too slow for you?"

"Please.. G, go faster..!" Again, listened to your wish and started to pump faster, adding two more fingers in the mix. He returns to attack your breast and bit your nipples and his free hand went to massage the other.

The stimulation was too much for you, being touched everywhere soon made a knot inside of you that was waiting to be snapped at any moment. "V, Venti..!" That was all he needed to hear for him to stop, moving away from you.

You look at him, confused and upset, but that was soon answered as he stood up and pulled both his pants and undergarments down. "(Y/N), why don't you be a good girl and repent?" he beckons you to go on your knees.

You listened, getting on your knees and bringing your face closer to his cock that was dripping with precum. "Well? Don't tell me you don't wish to repent." You gulped and slowly bring your lips to the tip of his dick, licking the precum off of it.

You felt him shudder from above which urged you on. You opened your mouth and brought half of it inside your mouth, earning a groan from the male.

You then started to suck on his cock and another moan erupted from his vocal cords, putting a gentle hand on your head. You only sucked halfway of it and pumped the rest, not wanting to choke.

When it has gotten to a point that was much to his pleasure, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head; pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. You moaned on his cock, feeling it touch the back of your mouth and made you gag.

"Don't stop now, (Y/N). After all, you want to be forgiven right?" He tugs on your hair and you continued. Venti became a moaning mess, guiding your head as he does so. And soon, you felt his cock twitch inside you. You suck him faster, wanting to help him in his release.

Followed by a long moan, he fills your mouth with his juice, keeping your head locked on his dick so that you don't waste a single drop.

Once you gulped all of them down, he pulls away. "Aren't you a good girl~?" he coos. "You deserve a reward so why don't you get on your hands and knees for me, hm?"

You listened, wanting to get your own release as well. He got behind you and you felt excitement wash through you and the knot that was still there.

He put his hands on your breasts, giving it a little squeeze. "Are you sure about this, (Y/N)?" he whispers in your ear. "You can always tell me to stop, okay?" You nod.

With that, he moved his wet cock inside you. You whimpered at the overwhelming foreign heat that entered you. Venti was patient with you and waited for you to adjust to the feeling.

"P, please move.." you say breathlessly after a while. Venti listened and started to enter and leave your hole, building up his stimulation once more.

Moans, pants, and lust filled that night and at each thrust, he went faster and faster as you grip onto the grass, feeling your legs numbing. "Harder, Venti..!" you cried out, the knot close to breaking.

His grip on your waist was for sure going to leave marks on your skin, but that didn't matter to your right now.

He pulls out completely but quickly slams it back inside you. Your head jerks up and moaned loudly. The sight of the was stars blurring as you were being pounded into and drool went down the corner of your mouth.

Venti's thrust became sloppier and sloppier by the second. He buried his face on your shoulders and bit it hard enough that it drew blood, but you were too focused on the pleasure that you hadn't noticed.

"V, Venti, I--" At that moment, the knot snapped and you came on his dick. Venti thrusts a couple more times before he, too, came inside you, groaning as his second wave was finally released.

He fell on top of you, both your legs too weak to carry the weight of your bodies. He didn't take himself out just yet and listen to the two of you pant.

"Let's go home, hm?" he suggests between heavy breathing. You nod and watch as he pulls out, letting out a whimper at the sudden emptiness inside you.

He dresses himself up first and later helped you since you were unable to do it and carried you home. "I love you, (Y/N)." He kisses the side of your head, watching you slowly fall asleep.

---

#genshin venti #venti oneshot #venti #venti x reader #genshin impact venti #genshin impact #genshin #venti x y/n #venti x female reader #venti smut #venti n/sfw #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #x female reader #x fem!reader #x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #smut #venti x reader smut

[i-ship-therefore-i-am]

the first bit of the kissing fic I’ve been working on for ages: (read it on AO3 here.)

Wei Wuxian’s attention has chased Lan Wangji since the first day they met—relentless, unforgiving, his eyes always looking. One day Lan Wangji can’t help but look back.

Or: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji share a moment of honesty during their time in Xuanwu cave, and how everything afterward changes (and doesn’t).

break upon your shore

“Cloud Recesses has been burned.”

Lan Wangji has finally done it, said aloud the words he has been holding back in the face of Wei Ying’s endless pestering. Days spent ignoring the litany of Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. Days of deflecting demanding questions about what happened. Days of concern and care he doesn’t need. Shouldn’t need.

My leg is fine.

I am fine.

Everything is fine.

Leave me alone.

(Don’t.)

(Don’t go.)

(Don’t leave me alone.)

As Lan Wangji finally gives in, speaks the fate of the Cloud Recesses, he remembers why it was so important to resist in the first place. The moment the words are through his lips, said to Wei Ying of all people, everything threatens to crumble, a great reverberating fault line widening in his chest.

He switches from irritation and anger to sadness so quickly that he feels unmoored, like the flames of the fire in front of them in the dark cave—dancing wildly, ready to consume and destroy from within.

It is not as if Wei Ying didn’t already know about the Cloud Recesses, as if Wen Chao had not crowed about it as he dragged Wei Ying off to a dungeon that spit him back out covered in blood and a fatigue that no smile could completely cover. Though Wei Ying tried, of course. He always did.

So flippant and unregulated. So aggravatingly frivolous about everything, not only others’ hearts, but his own safety.

“Are your people safe?” Wei Ying asks now, voice soft and delicate as if he can tell Lan Wangji is reeling even as he keeps himself still. So very still. “Your uncle? Your brother?”

Lan Wangji does not allow himself to look away from the flames, to move so much as a muscle in reaction. Does not look at the face he knows will be earnest and beautiful, not when he is stuck as he is in this cave where there is nowhere to hide from it. “My uncle was badly wounded. My brother is missing.”

These are the facts. Cold. Hard. Unchangeable.

“Zewu-Jun is missing?” Wei Ying asks, tone voicing the pain in his own heart. His shoulder presses closer against Lan Wangji’s side.

Because Wei Ying is reckless and foolish and irritating and inescapable, and worst of all he is endlessly, violently kind.

Lan Wangji’s eyes flood with wetness.

Shameful. Where is his control? Emotional displays do not change facts. They never have.

He closes his eyes tight, both because he can feel the drag of exhaustion in his bones but also to escape the painful beauty of Wei Ying’s face in the flickering firelight. His teasing smile and laughter that is not Lan Wangji’s and is not meant for him and never will be. So easily spread to many with no true intent. But to escape also the tears he has almost let fall, the way Wei Ying’s provoking laughter has fallen away, leaving something even more maddening. No jokes at his expense, just an understanding that makes it impossible to keep his control perfect and undented the way it must always be. In front of Wei Ying more than anywhere else.

He will not be weak enough to cry. To give something for Wei Ying to make a mockery of. Or perhaps worse, to be seen. Understood. That somehow seems even more treacherous.

Wei Ying continues to speak softly, and Lan Wangji lets the chatter flow over him like a lullaby, like a comfort that it has no right to be. Lets it push away all thoughts of the Cloud Recesses and his brother and embarrassment and yearning. The endless confusing tangle Wei Ying sows in him. How he hates it and longs for it.

He just needs to rest. To reestablish his equilibrium. Then everything will stop tilting to the side, his foundations will solidify.

Only then, unexpectedly, soft cloth settles across his body. Warm hands settle on his shoulders. Ignore it, he orders himself. Sleep. Escape.

Against his will, his eyes flutter open. So undisciplined, so out of control.

Wei Ying is leaning over him, so, so near as he settles his outer robe over Lan Wangji, a soft look of something like fondness in his expression.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says, face close enough that Lan Wangji can see the faint blush rise on his cheeks. So close that his breath stirs the air against his face, soothing and provoking all at once. Just as Wei Ying himself has always been.

Wei Ying’s thumbs rub absently across the curve of Lan Wangji’s shoulders, giving him a sheepish smile. “I thought you were asleep.”

Maybe he is asleep. Maybe this is a dream. Maybe he is just broken and tired and unable to resist. The fleeting, thoughtless caress of Wei Ying’s hands against his shoulders spilling everything over. Because somehow Lan Wangji forgets that this means nothing. Means nothing to Wei Ying. Only thinks how much he wants it to mean something.

His hand lifts, fingers touching softly against the warmth of Wei Ying’s cheek, chasing the burn of color there, like seeking proof. When his choice is between doing this and crying, this feels only marginally safer.

“Uh, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying says, not moving, but eyes widening. “Is there something on my—”

He stops talking as Lan Wangji’s thumb presses into the corner of that devastating, infuriating, teasing grin.

Lan Wangji briefly wonders if this is what being drunk feels like. If this is why it is forbidden, if such a state makes people just do as they please without fear of consequence. If it makes bodies incapable of being still and doing nothing which is the choice he should have made. Usually makes.  

Wei Ying has not pulled away, just blinks back at Lan Wangji for long moments before swaying even closer. His mouth opens on a gentle exhalation and Lan Wangji curls his fingers into the soft skin of Wei Ying’s neck just behind the sharp jut of his jaw. Presses in.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, wonderingly, his voice sliding down Lan Wangji’s spine, flaring heat low in his belly.

“Wei Ying,” he says, their same endless call and response. His voice sounds wrong though. He’s giving too much away, is too ragged to hide it. Too worn to brace for the inevitable pain and embarrassment that will follow, this thing he has fought against for so long. To lose Wei Ying at last to hatred and disgust.

Maybe Lan Wangji really is nothing without his ribbon lashing him together.

It’s a horrible, shameful thought, but he has no time to linger on it because Wei Ying’s face is dipping even closer, his lips brushing against his.

It’s almost a question, the gentle not-quite-there touch, Wei Ying’s eyes still open as he watches Lan Wangji’s face, nose softly bumping against his cheek. Nudging. Testing his boundaries. As always.

It takes everything in Lan Wangji not to surge into the touch, to not just take what he has wanted for so long even as he fought against it. He is still half-braced for the laughter, for the punch line, for Wei Ying to dance back out of reach the second he tries. Did you honestly think I could want you? Want a pillar of ice?

He does not want to believe Wei Ying could ever be that cruel. Even unknowingly.

“Do not joke,” Lan Wangji somehow manages to say, wanting to sound harsh and unbending, wanting to shove and retreat, but knowing instead how broken and pleading his words are. Wanting. His hand is not pushing away, but curling tight into the silken strands of Wei Ying’s hair.

Wei Ying studies his face, something painfully sincere there. “I won’t. I wouldn’t.”

But rather than pulling back, than ending this horrible torment that Lan Wangji only has himself to blame for, Wei Ying presses closer, lips firm and warm against his.

Lan Wangji’s entire body threatens to shudder under the sensation, emotions rioting and fighting to escape his control. He sucks in a breath through his nose and closes his eyes in a panicked attempt to find equilibrium. It has the effect of focusing all his senses down on the feel of Wei Ying’s lips, the heat of his nearness, the relentless thud of his own heart. None of this centers him. Not when the simple press of dry lips is already almost too much. No where near enough.

He has to stop himself from starting at the sensation of fingers against his cheek, Wei Ying moving closer, pressure increasing. Lan Wangji’s lips give way to him as a soft round sound tries to break free of his throat.

He lets Wei Ying kiss him like this, remaining still and open under him, heat insidiously blooming in his chest, yet too afraid to give anything back, that the moment he tries to reach for more it will be snatched away. (But, how much he also wants, wants, wants.) He can’t resist the cautious flick of his tongue against Wei Ying’s lower lip where it presses between his, wanting to taste him. Wei Ying jerks, only to meet him immediately, mouth open and eager, welcoming, somehow seeming to know what it is Lan Wangji wants when he barely knows himself.

Wei Ying presses even closer, a whiney sound at the back of his throat that seems to reverberate in Lan Wangji’s own flesh like an echo or answering note. Deep. Abiding. Unescapable. He is drowning. He is coming up for a first true gasp of air.

Everything retreats unexpectedly as Wei Ying jostles Lan Wangji’s leg—sharp, unforgiving pain shooting through his entire body, enough to cut through the heavy haze of desire.

Lan Wangji hisses, feeling sweat break out on his brow, black spots in his vision. He is reeling and lost, bouncing between opposing sensations.

Wei Ying pulls out of reach. “I’m so sorry! I can’t believe—I wasn’t thinking. Is your leg okay? Of course, it’s not okay. Let me see. Did I ruin it? Does it hurt a lot?” His hand lands on Lan Wangji’s thigh as he twists to look at it, but Lan Wangji couldn’t care less about his leg in the moment. He should. That would be the proper thing.

None of this is proper.

The pain recedes as he concentrates on the wanton heat of Wei Ying’s palm on his thigh, the flush of Wei Ying’s face, his lips shiny and full and well-kissed. By Lan Wangji. That was done by him. The satisfaction unfurling in his chest is a solid, dangerous thing.

Wei Ying still babbles and apologizes, the words echoing and building against the stone walls. Lan Wangji briefly shuts his eyes against it, centering himself, even as he wants to know what, exactly, Wei Ying is apologizing for. But also afraid to know.

Do not be of two minds, he thinks automatically, and tries to let it calm him, contain him. But it is hollow, as he has always been of two minds when it comes to Wei Ying.

“Are you sorry?” he finds himself asking.

Wei Ying looks at him, eyes wide. “Of course, I am! Your leg—”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Not my leg.”

Wei Ying stills, and only because they are still so close, because Lan Wangji is staring at him so brazenly, unable to look away, does he see the moment of raw feeling—something like worry and pain, and more vulnerable than he would ever think to see from Wei Ying—before his expression slips carefree and teasing again.

His body is all fluttering movement in an instant, and Lan Wangji considers that can be as much a cover as stillness. It’s a startling thought, one he files away carefully to think on more when he has the chance.

Wei Ying rubs at the back of his head, smiling widely. “Oh, uh. Yes. I can apologize for that too if you like. I thought…but I probably thought wrong! And now I’ve horribly offended you. Yet again. So maybe you can just please forget I did that and we can pretend, even though, honestly, I think I’d much rather do that again, every day if you would let me, and, boy, is that something I was not expecting, but I know that you barely tolerate me and I’d rather you didn’t hate me, so we can just chalk it up to—”

Lan Wangji grabs Wei Ying’s shoulder and cuts him off by dragging his mouth back to his. Like he’s possessed, wild. And maybe he is because this time he does not sit passive under Wei Ying’s kisses, finally giving way to what he wants, mouth taking and demanding because Lan Wangji is always listening carefully when Wei Ying speaks and Wei Ying said he wants to do this again. Every day if he would let him.

Wei Ying makes the most ridiculously wanton sound against his mouth and Lan Wangji wants to swallow it down and let it live inside of him forever.

Wei Ying slides his hands into Lan Wangji’s hair, fingers pressing into the curve of his skull, each pad of his finger a bright spot of energy shooting straight down his spine. Lan Wangji lets out a gasp, pulling his mouth away just long enough to suck in a deep breath and Wei Ying immediately protests, shuffling forward on his knees, nearly falling over in his eagerness.

Lan Wangji presses his hand to the flat of Wei Ying’s back to steady him. He guides him closer out of range of his leg that no longer hurts in the slightest and maybe that should be worrying but the thought flitters away, because Wei Ying is closer now, at last, knee pressing up against the outside of his thigh right before he crushes his mouth back to Lan Wangji’s.  

Everything is heat and pressure and the slide of Wei Ying’s tongue against his, Lan Wangji feeling as if he’s swallowed an entire wildfire, not the steady power and warmth of his core, but something writhing and sparking.

With Wei Ying nearly in his lap now, there is no part of him that is not easily within reach, and Lan Wangji’s hands are greedy, like this might be something snatched away at any moment. He methodically discovers the planes of his sides, his back. Wei Ying’s sinfully red robe is so thin under Lan Wangji’s palm, hiding none of the heat or shifting muscles of his back as he reaches and writhes and never stops moving because he is Wei Ying, even while doing this, so much Wei Ying. Lan Wangji wants his mouth on every inch of Wei Ying’s body with an intensity that winds him. He can no longer feel shame for it. Just wants, sharp and liquid.

He is dizzy with the continued assault of Wei Ying’s mouth and lips and tongue and it is somehow too much and not enough, too far and not close enough.

Lan Wangji twists his hand in the front of Wei Ying’s robe, needing him closer, needing him to still, just needing something to hold onto and Wei Ying lets out a sharp yelp of pain. Lan Wangji jerks back, releasing his grip, Wei Ying’s mouth pulling free from his with a wet sound that is going to haunt him forever.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Wei Ying says between bouts of shaky laughter. “We have perhaps not chosen the best moment for this.”

“I apologize,” Lan Wangji says, horrified to have so thoughtlessly caused him pain.

Wei Ying shakes his head, pressing a hand to the still-seeping brand on his chest. “No, no. A little pain is worth it. Believe me.”

Lan Wangji can’t help but feel the flair of annoyance in his chest, everything inside him writhing and upside down and not in its proper place. “Worth having her remember you always?”

Wei Ying’s eyes widen, another laugh spilling from his lips. “Heavens. I read that so wrong didn’t I? I mean, you werejealous. But not of Mianmian. I can’t believe that. Am I dreaming right now?”

Wei Ying looks delighted, and Lan Wangji has to look away, feeling his ears burn, not sure if being so transparent is mortifying or if he’s simply relieved for Wei Ying to finally see him, if that is better than Wei Ying’s misguided teasing and blindness.

But Wei Ying doesn’t relent long enough for Lan Wangji to clarify his own thoughts. “I actually meant a little pain was worth kissing you, by the way. This entire fucking disaster is worth getting to kiss you. Isn’t that insane to even say? But it’s how I feel right now. Even if you come to your senses the moment we get rescued. Or you actually get some sleep.” There is something bittersweet under his smile, and Lan Wangji realizes he has let himself be far too dazzled by those grins to see what might be hiding underneath. Or maybe too scared to look long enough to be able to notice.

He will set himself to the task of learning better to see it. To know each and every inflection. He’s never looking away again.

“I am always sensible,” Lan Wangji says.

Wei Ying laughs again, patting absently at his shoulder. “Yes, yes. I certainly didn’t mean to offend. No one could speak against Lan-er-gongzi’s levelheadedness.”

Lan Wangji feels Wei Ying is deliberately misunderstanding him for some reason, but he has no shame left, having already broken himself open so effectively, having now felt what it is to have Wei Ying in his arms. Willingly. Enthusiastically. There is no lying to himself. And there is no lying to Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji reaches for the back of Wei Ying’s neck, pulling him near.

Wei Ying’s hands flap a bit in surprise, but he comes willingly, everything in him seeming to go still, almost hanging from his grip, and this is another reaction Lan Wangji wants to learn more about. Some time when he is less exhausted.

Only once Wei Ying’s face is nearly touching his own, their eyes looking directly into each other, does Lan Wangji speak again. “I am always sensible,” he repeats. He has not lost his sense. He has only taken what he has always wanted. What he will always want. There will be no recanting. To think he would is offensive to him.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says, his eyes blown wide. “Oh.”

Lan Wangji hums in agreement, attention caught by the sight of Wei Ying’s lips even as he feels exhaustion tugging relentlessly, his eyes heavy.

“So this isn’t just like, I don’t know, temporary insanity?”

Lan Wangji gives him a flat, unimpressed stare before leaning back against the cave wall behind him. “Long term insanity.” There can be no other way to describe the confliction he has been plagued with for so long.

Wei Ying lets out a startled laugh, and this one feels real and earned by Lan Wangji and it’s the most lovely sound he’s ever heard. “Lan Zhan!” he says, delighted and scandalized.

He feels his eyes sliding shut, his exhaustion a solid thing dragging him down. “Since I first met Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says again, this time soft and a bit thick. “I like you so much.”

Lan Wangji struggles to stay awake, to open his eyes, to think of something to say in response, something right, but he can only squeeze Wei Ying’s arm where he is still holding it. Never wants to let go of.

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan. Go to sleep.” There’s the soft press of what must be Wei Ying’s lips against his forehead, right where his ribbon should be, seductive warmth spreading out through his entire body from the simple touch. “Sleep now.”

“Wei Ying,” he mumbles one last time, and then drifts off.

#the untamed #my fic #wangxian #yes there is more #this fic is currently demanding to follow through the rest of canon after #lol #or at least a lot of it #cause #you know #how kissing makes everything later better #because i feel like once lan zhan makes up his mind about something and commits to it WATCH OUT #he won't deviate from that path #he's at his worst when conflicted #and at his stubborn best when he is not

[lostgreekgod]

delusion

a/n: hello aaaaa i had @theaudacitytowrite give me a prompt for a loki x reader fic solely because I do not find entertainment elsewhere! anyways

word count: 2776 (shit got longer, but what can I say I'm very feely when it comes to angst)

warnings: angst. angst angst angst. some crying. there was this one mention of blood, tendons & stuff ? but that's about it have fun crying

pairing: loki x f!reader

summary: you and Loki have been together for quite some time now. what happens when his insecure self realizes that you love him? and that he does too?

another a/n: I feel like this could use a part 2 i might come up with it next week because I've got a 7 day break from school yayy lmk if you'd like that nexie

4 years. It had been 4 years, 3 months, and 27 days since y/n had shed a tear. But on this fine autumn morning, as the yellow and brown leaves rustled in the gentle winds, as the smell of coffee, pumpkin, and spice wafted in the air, she let a tear fall- courtesy of her lover. No, scratch that. Her ex-lover.

\\ 3 hours earlier \\

Humming a tuneless song, an exhausted y/n walked back to her room in the Avenger’s tower. A whole day of training wouldn’t be smart when she had a crucial mission to lead just the next day, but she wanted the mission to pan out exactly right. This wasn’t her first mission, but the stats were so much more critical compared to the missions she had been sent on before. A new rival organization was springing up in SHIELD’s radar, and they seemed as high as ever in spirit, regardless of how the Avengers had managed to crush HYDRA not so long ago. Apparently, according to a message they had received a few moments before, the up-and-coming organization had 4 junior agents in captivity, and in exchange for those agents, they wanted intel. Fury’s plan was to provide a hard drive with incorrect information with an embedded virus, and have the agents rescued before the rival agents decrypted the file and realized SHIELD’s play. Two birds with one stone, as he had phrased. y/n was going to go in with Natasha and Loki. Nat, because she was as light as a cat on her feet, and Loki because he had his seidr for illusions, teleportation, et cetera. This wasn’t going to be her first mission with her 4-month boyfriend either, but she was excited to be fighting alongside him, nevertheless. As she washed up in the shower, she heard her room door open and close with a click. Finally. She thought with a smile. She could go to sleep in her beloved’s arms for the few hours she had left for rest and relaxation before they set out. Putting on her nightgown, she left the bath. She saw how Loki was cocooned on her bed, arms reaching out towards her, a little smile on his face. Unlike her, the god didn’t train much- but he still looked tired.

“Hello, my little lioness. Whom did you beat up today? You do realize it is wiser to rest before a mission.” He said in a loud, lazy whisper. All y/n could do was smile sweetly at him and snuggle under the covers. He knew how the lack of training made her insecure about her ability to be stealthy. Instead of letting Loki’s arms wrap around her like most of the other nights, she spooned his chest instead. Loki’s eyes widened at the sudden gesture, his body tensing up at the sudden disposal of love. He had only given love; he had never been on the receiving side of it. Wait, love? He didn’t love y/n. He didn’t. That swell he felt in his chest every time he saw her was simply the result of the great appreciation and respect he had for her. Nothing more. He couldn’t love her. After all, everyone he had ever loved ended up being taken away from him.

Chuckling lightly, he hoped y/n wouldn’t catch onto his nervousness. “What are you doing my dear?”

Inhaling his scent, y/n mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Sleeping. Go to sleep my love. We have to be up in less than 3 hours.”

My love? Yes, y/n had called him that multiple times, but he had never thought much of it. Why was he suddenly so wary of it? Did y/n truly love him? No, maybe she wasn’t thinking. She was already worn out and sleepy, maybe she blurted it out accidentally. No one could love him. No one.

y/n sensed that he still hadn’t relaxed. Cracking her eyes slightly open, she asked lightly, “Is everything okay, love?” Loki’s brows furrowed at her question. There it was again. Love. Loving him was impossible. To love him would be delusional. A move of delusional stupidity. Blatant ignorance.

Loki shifted away from her and sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his chest when he heard her whine in response. He met her eyes only to be asked another question. “Love, what’s the matter?”

His heart clenched against his chest, suddenly the room was too hot. He had to understand what was going on. He had to figure this out before it was too late.

“Love?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

y/n scanned his face, trying to understand the reason for his sudden withdrawal. She simply hummed in response.

Loki raised his eyebrows, indicating her to reiterate her response.

“Yes, what is the matter?”

“You referred to me as ‘love’.” He repeated, his tongue spewing out the last word like it was coated in dirt and grime.

“Yes, I suppose I did. Is something bothering you?” she asked again, placing her hand on his thigh as a gesture of concern.

How was he expected to ask her if she actually, truly loved him, without causing a kerfuffle? Without making it seem awkward, without losing her? What if she said she didn’t love him? What then? Would that make him feel better? Would that make him happy? A chill ran down his spine when he realized his answer. No. he wouldn’t be happy. In fact, he’d be terribly upset. He wanted y/n to love him. Shaking his head, he tried to heed logic over his emotion. He had to stop himself before he caused something he couldn’t fix. Before y/n realized the monster he truly was. He had to protect his beloved y/n, that would be the least he owed to her, after all that he had led her into.

He neutralized his expression, calming his breathing. This was for the best. He was the God of Lies, he did not deserve love after all that he had done.

“As a matter of fact, y/n, something is bothering me.”

y/n nodded, encouraging him to explain his predicament. “You can talk to me, love.”

Loki inhaled quickly, the use of the blasted term knocking him out of character for a second before he was able to regain his composure. He would ask the question directly. Right to the point, like he was doing business. That was the only way he could maintain his pretense without breaking down too soon. y/n might never forgive him after tonight, but to have her angry at him was so much better than losing her, on his account.

“Do you love me?”

y/n gasped lightly at the sudden question, her eyes widening at how Loki asked her about something so deep with no emotion in his voice. She sensed his sudden hostility, this coldness he was presenting her with. Sitting upright, she looked into his eyes. Nothing. She could read nothing from his expression. All she could pick up was this eerie sadness radiating off of him.

She decided to try reasoning with him. This sudden hostility meant something was bothering him at a much more personal level, and such issues mustn’t be dealt with before an important mission. She would know.

“We don’t have to do this today, Loki. We have to be up early tomorrow, and I doubt- “

“Answer the question, y/n.” Loki interrupted, his voice hardened like steel.

“Loki, we really mustn’t-“ she tried again.

“Answer, y/n.” he pressed.

y/n could only look at him and wonder what the cause was for the unexpected change in his demeanor. How was she supposed to tell him? How was she supposed to give the answer to the one question that could either make or break everything that they had together? How was she supposed to tell him that her love for him was far more than life? That he was her life? It didn’t matter how less time they had spent with each other; she knew him a lot longer before they had decided to begin their courtship, and she had fallen in love with him even before they had gotten romantically involved. She only fell harder for him after she saw how he truly was. How broken and vulnerable, how he yearned for a place in someone’s heart, how he wished someone could love him without any foretold conditions. How he wished to be free. Loki’s eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. y/n’s lack of response answered his question. She did love him. But he had to hear it from her. That was the only way he could finish this for good. For his y/n.

“I’m waiting.” He prompted, slightly flinching at the coldness in his voice.

y/n’s eyes flicked over to his, her skin eliciting goosebumps from the steely nature of his voice. He had never been like this to her. The last time she had seen him like this was when he was under Thanos’ control. Breathing deeply, she reached out and held his hands, shutting her eyes for a moment.

“Yes. I do. I love you,” she whispered, blood pounding against her ears. Her heart convulsed in her chest when Loki didn’t reply. She cracked her eyes open, her fingers growing cold at Loki’s unchanged demeanor.

Loki’s chest heaved at her response. ‘I love you,’ she had whispered, her eyes shut at the vulnerability of their situation. He already knew what she was going to say, but to hear it from her own mouth, her voice tiny as ever in fear that he wouldn’t return her feelings had him gasp slightly. His blood ran cold, his mind freezing at another realization. He loved her too. Of course he did. How could he have been so blind? He loved her so much, he hadn’t even noticed. Finish it! Finish it right now! Before you make things worse! His mind screamed at him. He knew what he had to do. Swallowing, he tried to memorize the feel of her hands against his. This was all he was ever going to have. A memory. A memory of his little lioness, a memory of what he would have had if he was someone different. Someone nicer, better. Someone not him. He pulled away from her, and met her eyes, his expression stoic and emotionless. Like the monster he was.

“Pity.” He whispered, his heartbreaking at how y/n’s eyes widened. He thought he experienced heartbreak when he lost his mother. As destructive as that moment was, many years ago, he believed he wouldn’t feel anything over this. After all, you can’t break something that’s already broken. But boy, was he wrong. This was heartbreak. And apparently, it's even worse when you go through it a second time. His veins felt like ice, his head heavier than ever. He could feel his throat closing up, all he wanted was to rip his heart out of his chest. He didn’t deserve her. Hell, he didn’t deserve to live after all that he had done.

“What?” came y/n’s voice, a little barely over a whisper. He couldn’t help but notice how her voice was heavy, laced with hurt.

“It’s a pity you think you love me.” He reiterated, his words chapping away at his already cracked heart.

y/n couldn’t process the event unfolding in front of her. Loki didn’t love her. No, worse. Loki thought it was stupid that she loved him. If she had any concern for her dignity, she would ask him to leave. But she loved him far too much. She decided to try one last time. Straddling him, she reached over and cupped his face in his hands, pressing her lips against his ice-cold ones. He was shocked for a moment, and before he realized, he was kissing her back. I love you, he wanted to say. I love you too. But all could do was try and engrave in his mind the feeling of her soft lips on his, the warmth of her hands against his cheeks. This was the end. He had to use all his willpower not to pull her in his arms and deepen the kiss, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Breaking away, y/n whispered, “it may be stupid that I do. Pathetic, even. -It isn’t pathetic. I love it.- Honestly, not one day goes by where I don’t face criticism about how I must be an ignorant fool to love someone like you. But what these people don’t understand, is that they are the ones that are ignorant. They do not see you as I do, and although I wish every day that they would, I doubt it will ever happen. You are, the best thing that has ever happened to me. That ever will happen to me,” she says, taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Can’t you feel this? This is what I feel every time I think of you- this is how I feel every time you merely breathe in my direction. -You are the reason I still exist, my dear. You keep me tethered to the outside world.- My love for you has been in existence for far longer than our courtship. I wish I could do more than just tell you how much I love you, if I could, I would give you anything, everything you’ve ever wanted; my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you 2 years ago. So take it, trample over it- it was yours to do anything with anyway. -So was mine. I am yours, just as you claim to be mine.- I love you, Loki Friggason, and I refuse to stop. -I love you too, my darling y/n. but I must do this. For you. Forgive me.-”

All Loki could do was hold in all those thoughts he desperately wanted to put in words. He could feel his eyes well up, his chest convulsing for the umpteenth time. Inhaling her scent, he hoped he would remember the sweet smell of chocolate and wine she always smelled of.

With great restraint, he pushed her off of him, his heart churning at y/n’s gasp. Her heart cracked at his dismissal. He couldn’t look at her while he shattered her heart, while he ripped it right off the pedestal. This was the end.

“You say all this, but you mean nothing by it, I assure you. I have encountered numerous midgardians professing their love for me, but I can tell when someone lies y/n. And it is very clear to me how you are simply overwhelmed. You do not love me. You are simply but a blatant, ignorant fool.” Could his heart shatter any further? Apparently, yes. It clawed at his chest, pain searing in his bones. He would feel all of it. He would embrace it.

He forced his lips to morph into a twisted, sickening smile. Agony. That is what he felt. Fresh burning agony, like fire in his tendons.

“What we have is all but a product of boredom. I was simply bored, silly mortal.” He looked up at her when she gasped, her hand on her heart. It was almost as if he could hear it shatter. All he wanted to do was hold her and weep. Tell her how sorry he was. Tell her how he wished he was the person she truly deserved. Instead, he was going to crawl into a ball and wish for death.

He got up to leave. Once and for all. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he willed his tears to sink back to wherever they came from. He didn’t deserve to cry.

“Did I ever matter to you?” he heard her whisper. Deciding not to answer, he stepped towards the door before she called to him. “Did I, Loki?” she asked again, her voice steadier. There was the woman he had hopelessly fallen in love with. A lioness, she certainly was.

He turned around to look at her, the same lifeless smile dancing across his lips. If he was someone else, he would have been taken aback at y/n’s stoic expression. She would rise again. She would continue to live her life, and no one was going to stop her. Especially him. That was the lioness he knew of. The only evidence of her hurt was the tiny teardrops prickling in her eyes, which he could see only because of the morning sun rays peeking in through the gaps in the curtains. She never cried.

“No,” he breathed, swiftly exiting through the door before she could see the tears that had traitorously fallen onto his cheeks.

part 2 here!

#loki fic #loki one shot #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x y/n #loki (marvel) #loki odinson #loki x you #loki 2012 #loki friggachild #loki friggason #loki angst #loki x f!reader #loki x female reader #loki fandom #loki avengers #the avengers #mcu loki #marvel mcu #tom hiddleson

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Diluc, Childe, Kaeya & Zhongli / Darling Saying “I hate you.”

Warnings: Suggestive themes and typical unhealthy yandere behavior. Note: sometimes in life we just gotta suffer,

Diluc had told himself that this was for your own good.

That’s what gave him the ability to rest at night -- while holding the knowledge of all the freedoms he’s taken from you -- that you are safe. There’s air in your lungs, healthy color to your cheeks, and life shining brightly in your eyes. It’d be selfish to ask for anything more, he would reason. This is good enough, is what he’d think, not fully sure if he believed the creed himself. 

Now he knows those words were but a lie to cover a gaping wound in his heart.

He gazes at you now, his hand reaching out, only to stop when you flinch away. The reality that he tried so desperately to push down has risen to the surface, your turmoil not easily ignored. Diluc needs to remain steadfast as he considers hesitation an insult. Certainly, he is low for holding you here against your will, but it’d be that much worse if he started questioning himself. 

“I know,” is the strained answer he arrives at. You hear the pain in his voice, how the words were all but pried from him. “I’ve always known.” 

“Then why?” You plead, exasperation pushing you past the limit. His head is hung low for once, unable to meet your scrutinizing gaze, instead taking an acute interest in the wooden floorboard beneath his feet. 

It brings him back to his childhood, like a kid being scolded for an illogical grievance against their sibling. Your question strikes deep and close to the heart. His answer comes fast, almost robotic, as if he’s practiced it in the mirror countless times.

“For your safety.”

And so you won’t leave like everyone else has.

Exchanging thinly veiled antagonism behind the guise of banter has always thrilled Childe. This game the two of you play, he wouldn’t change it for the world, deriving too much satisfaction in your flustered reactions. Every day is spent thinking about when he’ll get to see you next, what words might bring out the cutest expressions. 

The manner you deliver the line is frigid and he can’t help but be reminded of  Snezhnaya’s climate. For a fleeting moment, it stings, like snowflakes against bare skin. If there’s anything Childe excels at, it’s warding off the cold. He laughs, once, twice, face illuminated with uncanny elation. 

You watch in disbelief as he treats your honest admission as nothing but a joke. There’s nothing you can think to say to describe the frustration that grows in the depths of your soul, Childe’s response encapsulating exactly why you said it in the first place. Half of you considers leaving him where he stands, but you know better, he’d follow after you relentlessly. A Fatui Harbinger’s ability to spot and track their prey cannot be understated.

When his laughter starts to settle down, he speaks. “So the truth comes out, hm?” 

Childe stalks towards you, sporting a wolf-like grin that sends shivers down your spine, every step you take back not enough to increase the space between you two. Eventually, your back hits the wall. Childe takes advantage of your lack of escape, taking your chin in his hand and placing his arm by your head. At that moment, it’s impossible to ignore the looming height difference, though he leans down to look at you closer.

“Hate me all you want,” he hums, his voice dipping lower with each syllable. “But I’m not going anywhere, ever, so keep that in mind. And who knows?”

Childe winks at you.

“Maybe I have a thing for being degraded.”

To be looked at with suspicion is nothing new to Kaeya. Everyone has their own reasons for doing so, whether it be to his cunning nature creating suspicion, or his country of origin. Though, he admits, your reasoning is far more personal than that. After all, his schemes have sent you into a whirlwind of misfortune. 

Kaeya moves back, observing how your chest rises and falls with each labored breath, the way you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s quietly grateful that your former entangled position didn’t grant you the ability to see his face, as shock undoubtedly must’ve crossed over it. Moment’s later, he’s collected, in control of every twitch and crease of his expression. 

“Hm, while I never excelled in my linguistics tutoring, I think I’m familiar enough with the word hate to draw a different conclusion,” Kaeya nods to your discarded clothes on the floor, to which you flush even brighter than before. “Is that what you’d call this? You were throwing yourself at me just a few seconds ago, y’know.” 

He’s getting under your skin on purpose. You know this, seeing the trap he’s laid out without even trying to hide it, yet still fall for it to defend yourself.

“Where else am I supposed to go, when no one even looks me in the eye anymore?” You challenge, wiping the saliva from your lips with the back of your hand. Kaeya hums, considering your inquiry, fingers rubbing circles into your skin as he does so. The contact makes your mind hazy, being deprived of physical contact having done a toll on you. To come to him for comfort is a blow to your pride.

“Your hand could’ve always helped with that, but you still chose mine.” Kaeya smiles, ducking down to press open-mouthed kisses against your neck. You decide not to honor him with any further response. It feeds into his ego and that’s the last thing you want, so you close your eyes and sigh. 

He pauses for a brief moment, not willing to let it go. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. I’ll always find a way to make time for you.” 

Zhongli places his cup of tea down onto the table, outward reaction schooled and giving nothing away. It’s a pathetic, last-ditch attempt to earn an emotional response, even you know this. From how he whispers archaic prose into your ear about his love and adoration for you, you were expecting at least... something. A frown, furrowed eyebrows, pain in his amber eyes. Anything. 

His visage remains unchanging. You drum your fingers against the table, narrowing your eyes and jutting your bottom lip out. It took you weeks to work up the courage to tell him this! Indignation and embarrassment blossom inside your chest, threatening to suffocate you. Any other time he’s talkative, but for some reason, he’s decided to take some vow of silence now. 

You perk up expectantly when he clears his throat. 

“It was never in the terms of our contract for you to have positive feelings towards me,” Zhongli decides, raising the cup to his lips and blowing. “Though, if I might add, I would personally like it if you did.” 

Maybe it would’ve been better if he stayed silent after all. There’s no validation to be found in his taciturn response, no substance to appease your burning frustration. The word contract sticks out like a sore thumb. Petty as it might be to continue this exchange, you feel vindicated enough to do just that.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe the correct term would be marriage, not contract.”

“Are the two not one and the same? You’ve pledged yourself eternally to be my significant other, in the same way a contract binds two parties together.” Zhongli watches how you slide down into your seat dejectedly. Attempting to start an argument with Zhongli was akin to yelling at a brick wall, you decide.

“Don’t act so proud of yourself for swindling my parents into believing you’re an upstanding person.” 

His lips quirk up for the briefest of moments.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe the term would be negotiating, not swindling.” 

You leave him to eat his breakfast alone. 

#childe #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #yandere diluc x reader #kaeya #kaeya x reader #yandere kaeya x reader #yandere kaeya #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

[seriouslysnape]

One and Only

__

Severus Snape x Fem! Reader

Warnings: None.

Request: Hi! Could you write something about jealous reader with Snape? I wonder how would he react if he find out she got jealous even though they have healthy relationship and trust each other (〃°ω°〃) (fluff, smut whatever you feel like to write) Thanks! 🐍💚

Word Count: 1,632

“Really? So, you’re just being short with me for no reason?”

__

The early days of summer had brought sun warmed days and moon cooled nights with each rotation of the Earth. The joyous season had brought beautiful weather this year, and you had been in high spirits since the season had arrived. Summer always filled you with such merriment and thrill that it was no doubt that it was your favorite time of year.

Which was why Severus couldn’t figure out why you were in such a bad mood.

A sour scowl had been plastered on your face all afternoon, robbing your demeanor of its usual glee and pep. To put it in simplest terms, you were pouting. 

It didn’t take Severus long to notice that something was bugging you. You refused to look him in the eye and you were only responding with short sentences with a flat tone. He felt a twinge of hurt when you brushed him off every time his hands were on you. You were upset with him, which was why he wanted to get through to you. 

“What do you want for dinner, love?” Severus called sweetly from the kitchen. 

You were curled up on the sofa in the living room with a book in hand. You heard him loud and clear, but ignored him. Your eyes continued to scan the pages from line to line, but you weren’t really sure how much you were actually comprehending. 

When he didn’t get a reply, Severus appeared in the doorway. He could feel the tension from all the way where he stood which sent a shiver down his back.

“Did you hear me, angel?” He asked in the same light voice he had used before.

You didn’t look up from your novel, only raising a brow to subtly let him know that you were acknowledging his presence. He spoke again.

“I asked what you want for dinner tonight.” He repeated.

You looked up from the words on the pages, annoyance clear on your face with pursed lips and dim eyes. 

“I don’t know. Whatever is fine.” You said almost in a growl.

You went back to your book, avoiding the concerned look on his face. You felt a little bad for making him feel guilty. Maybe you were being a bit childish, but your stubborn nature almost always seemed to win out. 

“I’ll cook whatever you want. Vegetables are always so fresh this time of year so I-”

“Severus, I really don’t care what we have.” You cut him off, closing your book in defeat and putting it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Okay...well, how about we go to the park and watch the sunset after we eat? It’s been clear skies all day.” He offered gently.

Normally, you’d perk up at the sound of a summer evening walk in the park, but you remained unchanged. Something had really pissed you off.

“Fine with me.” You replied curtly.

Severus was rather fed up with your snarky behavior, but he was more worried that he had done something wrong. He discarded the thought of dinner and your evening plans for now, taking his place in the living room to join you.

“[Y/N], have I done something to upset you?” He queried, taking a seat on the adjacent sofa cushion.

Your irritated frown was still prevalent as ever, the slight roll of your pretty eyes telling him that he had indeed ruffled your feathers. 

“No.” You lied.

Severus hummed.

“Really? So, you’re just being short with me for no reason?” He acquired.

“I’m not being short.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Severus looked doubtful at that, because you were definitely aggravated. 

“I know I haven’t missed your birthday. It’s not your time of the month. You were fine this morning so it’s something that happened earlier this afternoon.” Severus rattled off.

You went silent, because he was right. Every summer, Headmaster Dumbledore would host a summer luncheon type event for all the Hogwarts professors and their significant others. It was a party of sorts to celebrate another successful year of teaching that was always a hit.

“It wasn’t the lunch party, was it? You had such a nice time.” He wondered.

“Yeah, so did you and McGonagall.” You snapped.

The words left your mouth before you could even process them. Severus’ head twitched in surprise at the sudden confession. He was confused only for a moment before his puzzlement melted into realization. He couldn’t even hide the smirk in his face.

Severus was usually the one to get jealous. You were a strikingly gorgeous woman with a lot to offer. Men ogled over you often, and Severus found himself fighting off desperate suitors. You had a wonderful relationship with him, one that had changed him in the best of ways. You always reminded him of that whenever he grew jealous over someone else, which offered him comfort.

It was interesting to him now that the shoe was on the other foot.

“Are you jealous of Minerva?” He asked.

Your answer wasn’t immediate. Your hesitation gave you away.

“No...” You lied again.

“Oh, you so are.” Severus said lowly.

You continued to refuse to look at him, not giving into him. You weren’t necessarily jealous of Minerva herself. She had always been super kind to you and was a wonderful friend. You sometimes felt a little insecure about the relationship she held with Severus. The term “work wife” had flown into your ears a couple of times from various people, and while you knew that Severus’ friendship with Minerva was strictly platonic, it still bothered you sometimes.

Severus had chatted with Minerva throughout the afternoon, and it seemed that every time you looked over they were laughing or immensely enjoying each other’s company. It put a twist in your gut that you hated the feeling of, and it had landed you in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

“What did Minerva do that has you so uptight?” He questioned.

It felt silly and even a little humiliating to admit that she hadn’t done anything more than speak to him to get you so fired up.

“I’m not telling you.” You mused. 

Severus quirked a brow, and shrugged.

“Fine. If you won’t tell me, then I suppose I’ll have to force it out of you.” He remarked, suddenly creeping closer to you.

Before you could stop him, his hands were at your sides, tickling your sensitive skin and areas that he knew could have you sputtering for air. You broke out into loud giggles and shrieks, a smile plastered on your cheeks. You wriggled underneath him, trying to get away from his attack of kisses and tickles. It wasn’t long before your lungs were painfully constricting and gasping for oxygen, your face going red hot as you pleaded.

“Okay! I’ll tell you!” You screeched.

Heavy breaths of relief sounded out when he stopped. He watched in slight amusement as you regained yourself, your body now sprawled out against the couch cushions. Your laughter dwindled out, the tone in the room changing. You lazily dragged your fingertips along his forearm as he looked down at you from where he straddled you. 

Insecurity was a difficult thing to grasp, and even harder to deal with. You had coaxed Severus through his bouts of it before, but you were now seeing firsthand how kicking it is easier said than done.

The annoyance was gone from your face, but it was replaced with perturbation and even a little sadness. He cradled your face in his hand, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He persuaded you to speak.

“You love me, right?” You pondered, eyes wide and puppy like.

The pang in Severus’ heart was overwhelming. It was such a simple question, but with such heartbreaking implications. Feeling neglected or unloved was the last thing that he ever wanted for you. Severus had plenty of experience with feeling alone in a world of people who always seemed to have their lives figured out. Hearts are meant to provide life and spend their best energy on loving others.

It was a damn hard feeling when your heart didn’t have anyone to love...or when your heart didn’t feel loved.

“Darling, what’s all this? Of course I do,” He hushed; “I love you more than anything. You’re my wife.” 

“I know.” You said shortly, but not in the same way you had earlier.

“I mean it, [Y/N]. Every time I’ve ever told you that I love you, I meant it. You’re my world and my reason for breathing,” He proclaimed, thick with sincerity; “If I made you feel unloved or unworthy, I assure you that wasn’t my intent.”

You shook your head.

“No, no. It wasn’t you,” You replied; “I just care about and love you so much that if I ever lost you to someone else...” 

It was too hurtful of a thought to even finish saying out loud. Severus was glad you didn’t, because he wasn’t sure he could’ve handled it. He had committed to a life of love with you, a commitment that he was determined to stick with. 

“You’re the love of my life, my one and only. I’ll love you forever and beyond.” He professed.

You leaned upwards, catching his lips in a reassuring kiss. They felt like the warmth of the summer sun and the sweetness of your favorite summer fruit. A comforting feeling that you’d go running back to every time. It could always feel like your favorite time of year with Severus.

“So...dinner?” You asked once he had pulled away and was looking into you again.

He shrugged, a devious grin beaming on his chiseled face.

“I say we skip to dessert.”

#severus snape #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x reader #severus #severus snape oneshot #severus snape blurb #alan rickman #Harry Potter #harry potter snape #severus snape imagine #seriouslysnape

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Revision.

Commissioned by the very lovely @pyrokittyowo.

Pairing: Yandere!Simeon/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Past Trauma, Toxic Relationships, Codependency, Infantilization, Isolation, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Gaslighting.

The sun never sets in the Celestial Realm.

It’s less whimsical than it sounds, to be fair. Sleep is a luxury for angels, a way to pass time for the young and the injured, but that hadn't been something Simeon thought to tell you when you first arrived, as you tried to follow his mangled, irregular cycle of rest and work. You’d gotten the hang of it with time, carved out your own routine and forced yourself to follow it, but you’d be lying if you said you were completely used to it. It was grating, if anything, just how bright all of it was, the shine only amplified by the ivory and gold angels seemed so fond of. It was overwhelming, really. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve called it unbearable.

But, you did know better. This realm was warm, but not stifling, not half as oppressive as the Devildom had been. It didn’t have the same constant chill, a pervasive darkness only made worse by the humid air and that invasive metallic scent, like stone and rock and the blood that must've been soaked into the cracks of both. The darkness was worse. All of it was worse, but you tried to keep your mind on the landscape, the starless sky, the bleakness you’d slowly grown to hate.

If you let yourself think about anything else, you’d have to think about the people you’d met, the brothers, the way they’d looked at you. You’d have to remember how tight Mammon’s grip had been, the first time he took you by the wrist rather than the hand, or how dull Beelzebub's fangs were and how much it hurt when he drove them into your skin, your chest, the sensitive area just below your collarbone that never failed to bleed, when it bit down. You’d have to think about how Lucifer’s hand felt as it wrapped around your neck, the sound of your own failing breath, the way he’d laughed as you—

You inhaled sharply, cutting yourself off before you could get any more lost in the memory.

Because that’s what it was – just a memory. Something you’d never have to worry about again, thanks to Simeon.

Still, you were allowed to complain. Even indoors, perched in one of the many bay windows spotted around Simeon’s sizable chambers, you could feel the unyielding sun, notice the light start to eat away at your vision like a hungry, gnawing parasite. There were clouds in the sky, perfect wisps of nothing, but they'd been their since the day you first arrived, fixed features on an unchanging canvas. They wouldn't move. You already knew that. Nothing moved in the Celestial Realm, not unless it had a reason to.

And yet, you found yourself opening your mouth regardless, asking the question that’d been playing on your tongue all day. You could let yourself have this. You could hope that were wrong. It wasn't like this would be the first time. “It doesn’t rain here, does it?”

Immediately, there was a hum from across the room, one of the many soft sounds Simeon seemed to be so fond of. You should’ve been glad he was there to answer at all, really. Simeon spent most of the day tending to his vague responsibilities. If he had time to sit around, pouring over a scroll in a language you couldn’t recognize, it must’ve meant it was either too early in the morning or too late at night for him to be bothered with anything else. You couldn’t be sure which, not when the two were so impossible to tell apart. “Rarely,” He replied, still distracted. “Michael tries not to leave the weather up to chance. If he needed a storm, I’d be able to tell you weeks in advance.”

You almost felt bad for him. You would’ve hated it, knowing everything long before it actually happened, but you doubted Simeon would ever let himself be so careless. “I don’t know how I’d stay sane,” You admitted, your gaze moving back to the window. A white dove had landed on the edge of Simeon’s windowsill, meticulously sorting through bleached feathers with its pointed beak, and idly, you wondered if the animals bothered to regulate themselves, too. “You wouldn't like my hometown. Couldn’t see the sky most days, and when you could, it was nearly too hot to go outside. Never stopped it from snowing a month before winter, though.” You paused, letting yourself smile at the thought. You missed it; you weren’t going to try to deny that. You were still allowed to miss things. “Luke would probably love it. Say what you want about humans, but we've never gotten a bakery wrong.”

Simeon didn’t hum, this time. The silence couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but your heart still found a way to tighten in your chest, stopping completely as you heard his chair scrape against the floor, sharp footsteps following the noise immediately. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, and he was kind enough not to force you to, brushing off your avoidance as he positioned himself on the opposite side of your small shelter. It wasn't much of an improvement, though. If he'd just let himself be a little more cruel, you might've had the pleasure of hating him for it.

“You’re thinking about the human world again.”

He was getting straight to the point. You couldn’t say you weren’t thankful.

“How can I not?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strained, out of place against his sober expression. “I haven’t been home in a year. I’m bound to want to go back, eventually.”

“You know it’s not safe.” It was a familiar mantra, one you should’ve been numb to, but it still found a way to hurt, to linger, accumulate into a small, aching knot in the back of your throat as you reminded yourself that he was only doing it because he cared. That was all – he cared. He didn’t want to see you get hurt, not again. He didn’t want to see you face anything more harmful than his clumsy comfort, even if he did have a strange way of showing it. “We’ve talked about this before, (Y/n). It’s still too early to tell if Lucifer left any lasting damage. There could still be a tracking spell I haven’t discovered yet, or worse.” There was a pause, and a gloved hand came to rest on your knee. You could’ve mouthed the words, as he said them. “I can keep you safe here, but your world is neutral territory. I might not be able to stop him, if he and his brothers tried to take you away.”

You hated the way he said it. Part of you, a persistent minority, still wanted to think this was all a misunderstanding, a result of crossed wires and mixed messages and the kind of miscommunications that only ever led to such awful things. You knew it was unhealthy, to try to tint your own memories with such a forgiving light, but that didn't help you smother the temptation to believe all the soft, pleasant encouragements Asmodeus had whispered in your ear as his brothers lived out their distorted, carnal fantasies. Whatever Simeon was trying to do, it certainly wasn’t helping, either.

“I’ll be careful,” You tried, slouching against the glass. It was warm to the touch, a feeling you savored under his cold gaze. “It’d be a day trip, at most. Just a few hours. I…” He was wearing the silk gloves, today, soft and smooth as he raised his hand, cupping your cheek without a trace of hesitation. You trailed off instantly, still unused to the gentleness. “I just want to see my family, that’s all. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“You’re bored of me, now?” It was supposed to be playful, the question accompanied by a light chuckle, but you still shook your head, leaning into his palm as you went on. “I can’t say I blame you. I know I’m not one for company, but if you’re dying for entertainment, I can see what—”

“It’s not just that.” You should've let him finish, but it was already too late to stop yourself. You didn’t want to stop yourself, if you were being honest. You just wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere different, a place where the sky didn’t hurt to look at and the sun wasn’t so willing to punish you for existing. You wanted to be able to step outside without worrying whether or not your angelic hosts still thought you were worthy of their concern. You didn’t want this, anymore, even if it was the better option. “I’m just tired, Simeon. I’m tired of being here, I’m tired of running, and I just want to go home—”

There was a small huff, a sharp crack. By the time you realized what happed, by the time that sudden acidic sting faded into a steady throb, his thumb was already digging into your jaw, your head forcibly tilted back in such a way that made it so you had to look at him. You couldn’t avoid the softened anger in his eyes, or the stiffness in his posture, or that tight, unignorable scowl. He was disappointed, and he wanted you to know you were the reason why. He was mad at you, and you’d done everything to earn it.

When he spoke, he did so slowly. Like he was talking to a child who hadn’t quite come to terms with reality, just yet. “I’ve taken care of you, haven’t I?”

“You have.” There was no point trying to deny it. If it hadn’t been for Simeon, you’d still be rotting in that hellscape, subject to the whims of a family of monsters. He'd saved you. He'd helped you escape, and you had to be thankful for that. “I just don’t know if I can—”

“And you care about me, right? You don’t want to see me worry?”

You hesitated, but your answer was inevitable “Of course.”

“And you do remember the last thing Belphie said to you, don’t you? What he did to send you running to me?” He let himself smile, despite the nature of the question. “I could barely understand you back then, with the crying and all. Honestly, I almost didn't notice you were begging me to save you.” It was easy to forget how Simeon could be, when he knew he was right. Most of the time, his confidence was comforting, a gentle reminder that you could trust him, that you should trust him. Right now, it just made you feel weak. “What was it, again? C’mon, love, you can tell me, can’t you?”

You could. Objectively, you could, if you tried to. You could force your mouth to make the words, you could shut your eyes and let Simeon guide you through it, and you could tell yourself they were just memories, that you were somewhere else now, that you were somewhere better, but…

But, you really, really didn’t want to, and you couldn’t convince yourself you did.

If you did, you’d have to remember how tightly Belphegor had held your hand, as he said it, his fingers intertwined with yours and his grip strong enough to leave your palm bruised, after he pulled away. You’d have to think about the small smile he wore, the hatred in his half-lidded eyes, the chill that'd run down your spine as he hid his face in the crook of your shoulder and told you that, if you ever tried to leave him, if he ever had to share you with anyone beyond the six exceptions he was already making, he’d kill you. It was as simple as that.

If he ever saw you again, he’d kill you.

You were safe, here. You were safe in the Celestial Realm, you were safe with Simeon, but you still found yourself choking on the words, your throat going dry as your shoulders pitched forward, a bolt of something frozen striking your chest before you could ward it off. You couldn't be sure why something so distant would make you cry, but you could feel it coming on – hot tears welling in your eyes, blurring your vision, threatening to spill over and strip you of what little pride you had left, but Simeon only wiped them away, as doting as he always was. As loving as he always was, even when you took his patience for granted. Even when you hesitated to lean into him, as he pulled you into his chest, urging you to hide your face and treat him like the pillar of support he was so clearly trying to be. Even when you didn't deserve it, when you didn't deserve him, when you didn't deserve any of this, not when he was kind enough to pretend he didn't know that just as well as you.

“Poor little thing.” He was humming, now, his tone teetering on the line between carelessness and comfort. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, not in the moment, not when it was all you could do to muffle your hitched sobs into small, pathetic whimpers. “It’s nothing to blame yourself for. You just need a little help.” Another pause, elongated and purposeful. Sadistic, in only because he had to try so hard not to be. “You just need someone to protect you. It’s only human.”

It was all you could do to nod, to agree, as mindlessly as you were capable of. You didn’t want to think. You didn’t want to risk remembering something you shouldn’t.

Instead, you just focused on the sunlight streaming the nearest window, how it felt as it hit you.

How, wherever your skin made contact with Simeon’s, it seemed to grow just a little more insufferable than it had been, a second ago.

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere scenario #yandere commission #commission #writing commissions #yandere prompts #obey me #obey me imagines #yandere obey me #obey me simeon #yandere simeon #simeon x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere fantasy #yanderecore #yancore

[to-star-lake]

An early scene from the let you go verse ✿☾

--

Geto had never seen anyone move that fast.

Sure, Gojo’s fast, and so is he, but you-

You were a veritable storm of movement, a blur of speed and precision.

He fanned his hand in front of his face, coughing as the billowing clouds of dust and rubble settled and the smoke cleared.

And there you were, crouched on one knee, your hands holding down the pair of curses the two of you were assigned to exorcise, a first mission for you. And there he was, standing awkwardly, wide-eyed, while the colossal tiger curse he summoned purred beside him, rolling on its back.

He cleared his throat, shaking thoughts away, dismissing the curse, and made his way towards you. The curses under your grasp groaned in unholy voices, and he watched, unable to tear his eyes away as your fingers closed even more tightly around their necks, your expression stone cold, unchanged.

“I could’ve helped,” he managed, quietly thankful that his voice didn’t crack at that moment.

You shrugged carelessly. “You didn’t need to.”

“Aren’t you going to exorcise them?” he tilted his head, failing to hide the intrigue in his voice.

“Yaga told me to let you exorcise them whenever possible.” He watched your face lift and your eyes met his. “He said you can control them.”

He paused for a moment, considering your words and nodded. He held out his right hand, palm open, enabling his technique and he watched your expression intently as one of the curses in your grasp warped into a dark, rumbling swirl in his palm, forming a crystal black orb.

Your eyes were focused on him, on the warbling sphere on his palm, and a twinge of self-consciousness hit him as he raised the orb to his lips, consuming it. Your eyes held no expression, he could not read what you were thinking, as much as he wished he could in that moment. But your eyes were so focused on him, so present, like you saw him so clearly and he almost wished you didn’t.

The other curse was churning into his palm and it had almost completely absorbed into an orb when you asked, “Can I hold it?”

He looked at you, wide-eyed, almost in disbelief as the question reached his ears.

Why? He wanted to ask. But didn’t. It can’t hurt you. And you can’t hurt him..right?

He took a step toward you, slow, cautious, the gently revolving curse in his palm out, a cursed offering to you.

“You should concentrate cursed en-” He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. You held your hands out, cupped next to each other, cursed energy coursing to your palms.

Carefully, gently, he tilted his hand over yours, passing the orb onto your hands and one might mistake this care for the object like it was something precious, but it isn’t. He'd never handed over an absorbed curse to anyone else (no one else had ever wanted it). He didn’t know what would happen.

He’d only noticed he’d been holding his breath, and let out a purposeful exhale when he saw the orb floating in your palms and in your hands, this wretched thing almost looked precious, like a gleaming black pearl between iridescent ivory shells.

He watched you looking down at it, a glittering reflection of the cursed orb in your eyes.

“And then you eat it?” your voice was much quieter than before.

“I consume it, yes.” he answered, the tenor of his voice matching yours.

His breath hitched as he watched you lift the orb to your lips, the tip of your tongue peeking from between your teeth, and you-

You tasted it.

He let out a ragged breath, hoping you couldn’t hear it.

Say something. He clenched his fists at his sides, desperately grasping for words in his mind. Do something. But he was frozen, the bottoms of his shoes cemented to the ground where he stood. He dug and dug, his efforts in vain, to find something behind your stoic expression.

It’s grotesque, isn’t it? This hideous thing I do. And now you’ve seen it. I shouldn’t have shown you. I shouldn’t have let you..

Finally you looked up, your eyes meeting his and you handed the curse back to him just as carefully as he passed it to you.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Ha..” the relief was audible in his voice at the way you said that. Your expression still hadn’t changed, but dare he say it, he definitely heard it, there was an almost playful edge to the way you said it.

-

“Hey, can we stop in that convenience store real quick?”

Geto turned to look at you, your small hand tugging at the sleeve of his uniform, the other pointing to a brightly lit building surrounded by vending machines past an empty parking lot.

He took out his phone to check the time.

“Yeah, are you hungry?” There was still time before the train back to Tokyo leaves.

“Yes,” you replied simply and bounded through the entrance to the little store. He took a seat on one of the benches outside by a vending machine, and a couple of minutes passed before he saw you poke your head out from the doors.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I’m not hungry,” he smiled. He never had any appetite and wouldn't for a long time after consuming a curse.

“Ok, I’ll just be a minute.”

He sat, looking out at nothing, replaying that moment over and over in his mind. The image of you, holding the small, black orb to your lips, the tip of your tongue grazing its surface-

“Here.”

He blinked, time finally catching up to him. He watched you take a seat beside him, holding a lollipop out for him. For me? And you nodded, nudging it closer to him, like you could hear the question in his mind.

He took it from you, and watched you drop a full bag of food down onto your lap. You unwrapped and took a bite out of the onigiri that you held in the other hand.

You must’ve noticed the way he was staring, because you turned and answered the question he didn't ask, “My cursed technique churns through my physical energy stores, so I’m always hungry,” you explained flatly. “I got you some cup ramen and onigiri too. For the train, in case you get hungry later.”

He laughed softly, he couldn’t help himself - the way you muttered through a mouth full of food, a little smudge of nori on your cheek, so different from the way you were when you defeated those curses, so human, so honest, so young..

“And this is what, an appetizer?” he chuckled, unwrapping the lollipop after reading the label. Sour apple.

“No, that’s a palate cleanser,” you replied simply. But your words caused him to freeze mid-movement. He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach at the implication.

He took a careful inhale, forcing himself to move after a moment, and brought the lollipop to his lips. “I know it’s unpleasant. I can go buy some chewing gum-” He stood, turning away, his eyes dark beneath the fallen strands of his hair.

“Shit-”

A gentle tug at his shirtsleeve.

“Geto, I’m sorry..”

He turned, a practiced smile on his face. “You don’t have to apologize. I normally go on missions alone, so there’s no one to converse with..no one to care..and I’m so used to it that I hardly notice it anymore.” This last was a lie; he couldn’t not notice it.

“No, I mean-”

He watched your expression twist into something he hadn’t seen before. An emotion was manifesting in your eyes. What is it?

He watched you inhale deeply, your chest rising. He hung on the edge of every millisecond that passed.

“It’s not that. It’s not what you’re thinking,” you began, your voice softer than usual. He watched you scoff lightly, shaking your head a little before meeting his gaze.

“This isn’t normal, what you and I do, what we are, you know that right?” You glanced over at a boy and girl across the street, hand in hand, in their high school uniforms, skipping along, laughing, so immersed in their own world it was palpable.

“You don’t seem like the kinda guy that ever complains,” you continued, your eyes meeting him again. “I might be out of line for saying this, but I want to make sure you know- what you do, this is not something you should ever have to get used to. This isn’t normal. I know you probably have some belief system, some cause you’ve dedicated yourself to. To help people who can’t help themselves, because you can, so you think you should, right? Because you have this ability. But I hope you know that it doesn’t have to be at the expense of your own happiness. It’s not selfish to look inward once in a while. If you’re suffering, if you’re in pain- you should know that it’s valid. And that lollipop, it’s just a reminder, an entry back into the real world after you’ve consumed a curse.”

You turned, moving back to take a seat on the bench, resuming bites out of the onigiri in your hand while he was stunned, frozen where he stood.

“I apologize for my candor,” you muttered, your cheek puffed with food. “It’s an unattractive quality. But I hate it when people get so caught up in themselves that they lose sight of what makes them great.”

It doesn’t have to be at the expense of your own happiness…

It’s not selfish to look inward once in a while…

If you’re in pain, you should know that it’s valid…

This is a reminder…

…

What is this feeling?

A slow simmer in his gut, it was warm, fluttering gentle caresses up his spine, it rose up and brought warm heat to his cheeks, a flush of pink under his skin.

He looked at you from where he stood, and from your feet, he watched the rest of the world suddenly emerge in vibrant color- the way the summer air smelled, the soft chirping of crickets from the trees in the distance, the low rumbling of a faraway storm..

Everything that had faded into the background, that he’d pushed to the far back of his consciousness because for as long as he can recall, he was actually the one being consumed by the curses in his possession. And he’d gotten so good at hiding what plagued him, that he was even starting to believe it himself, believing that everything was fine. But by the sweet, clear succession of your words, everything was brought to life, screaming and vivid.

In that moment, he stood on this Earth, just a boy, and you, just a girl; someone from that moment on, he knew he wanted to protect with his life.

#getou suguru x reader #geto fluff #geto blurbs #getou x y/n #geto x reader #jjk x you #getou scenario

[thedeathdeelers]

red flannel

It had been the longest day of Luke's (after)life, or at least it had felt like it.

The boys had spent all day preparing for Julie's Sweet 16, all three working hard alongside Ray and Carlos to make sure this was going to be the best birthday Julie could possibly have.

With Flynn keeping her busy in her bedroom and around the house (the studio was strictly off-limits), all five of them had accomplished what they had set out to do in record time, the studio looking better than it had ever had.

Once they were done, Ray and Carlos had head back into the house for the night, sending Flynn straight home after dinner.

Soon after, Alex had poofed out to meet up with Willie, while Reggie made his way over to the old TV in the studio declaring that Mario Kart had been calling his name all day.

Fully aware that it was already too late for Julie to still be awake, Luke tries to settle in for a writing session, bringing his journal and a couple of pens with him as he collapses onto his couch. But try as he might, every time Luke's eyes wandered around the studio looking for inspiration, they would always end up in the direction of Julie's bedroom window.

Maybe she was still awake? Her nightlight was still on, and he hadn't seen her all day...

Luke's mind refuses to focus as he sits on the couch with his journal forgotten, his leg bouncing up and down relentlessly while the thought of just popping up to check on her continues to swirl around his mind.

Just a peak, something to ease his mind until he could wish her a proper happy birthday in the morning.

With his mind made up and eager to get to her, Luke quickly poofs out of the studio, his journal falling onto the couch with a quiet thud. He lands softly on Julie's window terrace, his fingers automatically latching onto her windowsill as he pulls himself closer to the glass. He tells himself he's only going to check on her, that if she's asleep he will poof right back to the studio, but the second his eyes land on her sleeping form on the bed, all hopes of leaving her evaporate into thin air.

Because right there, sleeping peacefully right in the centre of her bed, lay Julie fully wrapped up in his flannel. He stands there frozen as he takes in the sight before him, his mind empty of any and all thoughts.

She was curled in on herself, her knees tucked up close to her chest as his much larger flannel covered her from head to toe.

His gaze lingers on the mass of curls out on display, fanning over the red material, a contrast of colours that keeps pulling his attention to it.

Finally he lets his eyes tick up towards her face, finding a peaceful expression adorning her features. He watches, entranced, as she takes in slow regular breaths, the tip of his flannel's collar moving ever so slightly with each exhale, the soft material brushing against her cheek.

A slight movement brings him out of his daze, his eyes shifting once again as they zero in on her hands. Her fingers, already wrapped around his flannel, tighten their grip on it as she pulls the material closer to her body, as if to ward off a cool chill in the air.

Without thinking, Luke find himself poofing into Julie's bedroom as he pulls off the spare blanket from the bean bag and makes his way towards her bed.

He stops in his tracks when he sees her stirring slightly in her sleep, not wanting to make any noise that might wake up. He watches with baited breath as she burrows her face deeper into the material, taking in a deep breath near the collar, a small smile taking shape on her lips as she exhales.

He imagines his heart would be stuttering in its place at the sight before him as warmth floods his chest. Allowing himself a few more seconds to commit this moment to memory, Luke slowly resumes his movements, walking up to the edge of the bed as he very carefully drapes the blanket over Julie's sleeping form.

He watches her as she warms up under the blanket, her grip on his flannel relaxing, while the smile on her face remains unchanged.

As if by reflex, Luke's hand stretches out over the bed, his finger coming to rest on the apple of her cheek as it lightly traces down the line of her jaw, keeping a featherlight touch. He lingers near the corner of her smile, unable to look or move away from his favourite Julie Molina feature. Even in the dim light of her nightlight, Julie was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

With great reluctance and the repetitive sound of her voice repeatedly chanting "boundaries" at him in his head, Luke retracts his hand, only to be stopped by warm fingers wrapping themselves around his. His gaze flies up to Julie's eyes to find them half-open and trained on his face.

"Go back to sleep, Jules," he whispers to her, his hand still in her grasp.

"Luke." His name on her tongue, a sound so simple, yet so powerful. He can already feel himself being pulled back in towards her.

"Sorry I woke you, you just looked a little cold so I brought you a blanket. You can go back to sleep now, I was just about to leave." He keeps his voice low, a murmur, in hopes that the sound would lull her back to sleep. He tries to gently tug his hand out of her grip, only for her to hold on tighter.

Her reply is too quiet for him to hear, forcing him to lean down closer to her level.

"What'd you say Jules? I didn't catch that."

"Stay," she says, this time just a little louder, her voice raspy from sleep.

He struggles to get the words out, fighting himself to do the right thing and let her sleep.

"Julie you need to sleep, I'll come back in the morning," he reassures her.

"No, stay now." At her words, she tugs on his hand still in her grip, taking him off-guard as he nearly topples over her. He catches himself at the last second, his knee coming up to rest on the edge of the mattress.

"Juuules, I promised your dad I'd leave you alone - he said you needed your rest for your exam tomorrow." His sentence comes out as a whine as he watches Julie pull his hand up to her lips.

"Please...I missed you today," she mumbles against his fingers.

Any resolve he had left disappears the seconds those words leave her mouth. With a sigh, Luke slowly toes off his shoes before sliding in next to her on the bed, his hand still clutched tightly in hers.

He scoots closer to her, slipping in under the blanket as he wraps his arm around her flannel covered body, pulling her closer to his chest.

His heart nearly bursts at the sound of her sigh as she cuddles in closer to him, letting go of his hand to clutch onto his t-shirt and burrow her face into his chest.

"Better," he hears her say, her lips brushing against the spot right above his heart. "Don' need flannel 'n'more, got the real thing right here."

And before he can ask her to elaborate, he feels her relax against him, her breathing slow and steady once more.

Luke spends the rest of the night surrounded by Julie as the melodies he had been chasing all night finally start settling in his mind. By the time the sun started to rise, he had a fully formed song about a girl and an old red flannel ready to be transcribed onto his journal.

When the girl in question starts stirring in his arms, he brings his lips up to her ear, grazing against the soft skin to whisper,

"Happy birthday, Jules."

fin im so done

#bro idk #uhhh i have no idea don't ask #my brain fought me so hard while writing this but i refused to stop because i just Wanted This Done #so #ya idk #jatp #juke #my fics #julie and the phantoms

[slipper007]

This was your child.

Word Count: 1,448

Inspired by @icefire149 and @officialmisha 's tags on this post (thank you @featherasscas for motivating me to do this)

Also posted on my AO3

TW: Child Loss, grief and grieving

His body was heavy.

Castiel didn’t expect it, not when he’d scooped Jack up, held him like the child he was.

He had dropped his angel blade, left it behind in order to save Jack from the battle raging around them. He wouldn't leave him there, broken and burnt with his wings charred into the grass, a body so easily possessable by any one of the souls God had conjured. He could still smell the seared skin and ash. No, he would rather die than leave him there.

Arms full, Castiel had made a break for it, gotten all of them into a crypt not far from where God had abandoned them, but he couldn’t bring himself to put Jack down as the Winchesters fortified the door. With his powers, he should have been feather-light.

Castiel thought again of the scorched wings and choked back bile.

He was three. He’d only had three years when he should have had eons like Cas. Creatures like them were cursed in that way, to watch those they loved rise and fall and turn to dust, but they had each other. They should have had each other for the rest of time.

Instead, Jack was limp and soundless in his arms.

Castiel tried to tell himself Jack was asleep, the way humans had comforted themselves for millennia. Empty sockets told him otherwise, but he still laid him on the ground as carefully and gently as he could.

The Winchesters were trying to talk to him, but he was busy. Couldn’t they see that? Jack needed him.

He extended two fingers to the boy’s forehead and felt tendrils of grace try to heal him, just as he had tried when Chuck was smiting him. Maybe now, when he wasn’t contending with the power of a god, he could make it work. He still had power, enough power for this. He had promised Kelly, and Jack himself, that he would be there to protect him. He had signed away his happiness, any attempt at a future, to save this child. This couldn’t be the end.

Castiel’s grace flickered, and his eyes flicked up to Jack’s unchanged face.

Jack still had so much left to do; his story wasn’t over yet.

Castiel brushed the hair from his forehead and tried again, feeling the anguish building in his chest start to overflow.

Nothing was changing, nothing was healing, but a part of him was screaming in agony as it died.

Castiel tried one last desperate thing, reaching deep within himself and ripping a part out, trying to use the scraps of his grace to bring Jack back to life. He was a creature born of primordial energy, and his grace was the core of that, a beacon of life that could heal wounds or grow trees. Surely, when paired with his love, his despair, his sheer will, he could create life anew, bring back his son.

The white-blue glow surrounded them both, and Castiel felt it seeping out, more power than he had tried to use in years pounding in his chest like the heartbeat he wanted to bring back.

Jack stayed unmoving, body growing cold and pale.

It wasn’t enough.

There wasn’t enough power, no God to pray to, nothing he could do.

Jack was dead.

The door creaked and groaned and for once, Castiel welcomed the danger. He didn’t move from Jack’s side as the Winchesters called for him, begged him to help. The door fell with a crash.

The souls didn’t stand a chance.

Continue Reading

Castiel felt the burning, aching pain in his chest grow, and rather than force it down, try to keep channeling it into Jack, he let it out. His grace seized violently as he lashed out at them with his anguish, screaming. White light poured from his body, obliterating every soul it touched as the Winchesters dove for cover. He felt the ground beneath him quake and tremble as a chasm opened between him and the others, and parts of the floor gave out and crumbled. Bodies fell as the souls inside them were destroyed, billions upon billions turned back to the stardust that seeded creation.

All that stopped him from leveling it all, razing the field outside and destroying what was left of Chuck’s machinations, were the stone walls of the crypt around them.

If he destroyed the crypt, he would bury Jack.  

He couldn’t…

The souls gone, Castiel collapsed to his knees. He felt tears burning in his eyes, but tears didn’t soothe the throbbing loss in his chest, and tears wouldn’t bring Jack back. It didn’t stop them from raining down, his tears leaving trails in the dust that had fallen on Jack during it all before he wiped it away.

Castiel wanted nothing more than to join him on that floor.

Who will protect him, keep him safe?

A hand fell on his shoulder.

“Cas…”

“You killed him.”

Castiel hardly recognized the voice that spoke as his own, and apparently neither did the Winchesters.

“God—”

“God didn’t kill Jack, you did,” Castiel said again, feeling anger build in the new hole in his chest. “You held a gun to his head, betrayed him, locked him in a box—”

“He was dangerous, he killed—”

“It was an accident!” Castiel shouted. “He made a mistake!”

“He was soulless!”

“BECAUSE OF YOU!”

The Winchesters startled back as the words echoed, and Castiel felt the roof above them start to crumble. He forced the destruction down, tried to keep from burying his son.

“He burned off his soul saving us, trying to prove he could be useful even without his grace because you taught him he wasn’t! You taught him that the same way you taught me. All he wanted was your approval, to make things right, and you wouldn’t give him that!”

“I—”

“You both were like a father to him. He looked up to you.” Castiel turned his gaze to Dean alone, words cold and angry and burning. “He loved you. And I loved you. I loved you so much that I abandoned everything I ever knew. I took a leap of faith for you, and I suffered and lost more than you could ever imagine. And now you take Jack from me, too. He was three years old.”

For once, the Winchesters fell silent, but it did nothing for him. It wouldn't bring Jack back. He shucked off his trenchcoat and draped it carefully across Jack like a blanket before picking him up.

He was three.

He took Jack outside, feeling his grace spasm and hiccup as the grief grew. It threatened to tear him apart from the inside.

This was your child. I can’t imagine the pain.

Was this what he’d cursed Lily Sunder to a lifetime of?

“Cas,” Sam quietly tried, “He needs a funeral.”

“I’m not giving him a hunter’s funeral,” Castiel snapped, holding Jack even tighter. “Or a human one. He’s half angel, I’ll take care of it.”

Dean moved to speak, but Castiel gave him a withering glare before he could even get the words out.

He tried to set him in the passenger seat of his truck, but couldn’t force himself to. The whirlwind inside him was still thrashing and burning, the dead weight in his arms only making it more violent.

With care, he managed to keep Jack wrapped in his coat and look down to avoid seeing the burned remains of his eyes. When he moved to make his way to the driver’s side, he saw Jack’s wings and the hurricane brewing within him finally came out.

Castiel felt the earth quake and the sky bleed as he tore it all apart. Atom by atom, he reduced the world around him to nothing, collapsing the crypt to dust and cracking the earth as easily as one might swat a fly. The trees toppled like dominos, but he spared the gravestones around him, unable to destroy them.

The bodies underground were all someone’s child, too.

Something in him snapped, and the cosmic power drained away in mere moments. He was left standing at the center of a ruined earth, the last thing standing for miles, even as the Winchesters cautiously looked up from behind the stones, fear in their eyes at the destruction he had caused, of what he was, but he paid them no mind. He was too lost in feeling and he knew, even without thought, that he had fallen.

The pain grew worse, even more all-consuming as emotion overwhelmed him.

Only humans can feel real joy, but…also such profound pain.

He thought he had understood pain and loss before, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

///

Update: continues here

#this fucking hurt to write. #I don't know if i did the concept justice but we're gonna throw it out there anyway #slipper007writes #tw child loss #dadstiel #castiel #supernatural #spn fic #jack kline

[rinstars]

𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 — 𝐬.𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞)

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

genre/trope: angst, unrequited love, forbidden love

warnings: nsfw, profanity, infidelity, mentions of weed/drugs, intoxication

description: you knew you never meant to him as much as he meant to you.. yet deep down, you still hoped his heart also breaks with every single goodbye and the regrets of the past clings to him a lot more than he let you believe.

note: this is a repost of 'the call' where i changed and added a few things to make it fit as a prologue better, so make sure u still read it. i'll do this series at my own pace so please just be patient! i'll open the taglist so just send me an ask if you want to be tagged hehe.

The smell of leather and weed floating in the space surrounding you constricts your breathing, making you gasp for air – even more as he suctions the air out of you through your heated shared kiss, your lungs burning with the need for oxygen. But you ignore it. Running your fingers through his hair and meeting his hunger with kisses equally as rough, you ignore the building pain on your chest.

You rock your hips towards him, feeling his hard crotch rub you through the lace of the panties you bought just a few days ago. Pulling away for a moment only to gasp on his reddening plump lips while he lazily guides your movements on his lap, triggering a flood of pleasure wash over you.

Slender, pale, and long fingers reached over to snatch another blunt, taking a long drag before the very same fingers of the opposite hand takes the back of your neck so he can pull you closer to his lips. He breathes the smoke out of his mouth into yours, connecting your lips once again.

Despite the distinct scent of the drug, you taste a tinge of sweetness on your tongue as his own massages yours. Rocking your hips harder to his forces a moan out of you, making your fingers curl around his lengthy hair. You pull away, muttering a small give me a minute to him. Leaning back on the steering wheel, you watch him while you try to control your ragged breathing.

His hair is long. Long enough that it falls softly all the way to his eyes and cheeks, the ends brushing his really pale skin. With your earlier statement, he just shrugged with the same unchanging look of nonchalance in his eyes—proceeding to take drags out of his blunt. His beautifully shaped eyes now bloodshot and shiny with moisture.

He's almost like a vampire, now that you think about it. So beautiful. Such pale skin but such dark hair. Sharp gaze but soft lips. Intoxicating scent but still so sweet.

The most similar thing between him and vampires, you thought, is the way he sucks all the life out of you. Drying you out and taking all your light.

This man has corrupted you more than you're willing to admit.

You opened your mouth to say something when the blaring ring of his phone makes you jump. His eyes glanced over the source before grabbing it with a sigh and scanning the monitor. You didn't even need to ask who it is. You're very well aware who it is, and why he never hesitated to answer.

When it comes to you, it always takes a lot of rings and missed calls before he picks up, though. You understand. You tell him you do, you always will.

He doesn't pick a call up on the first ring unless it's his girl. Astumu whispered as if he heard you ponder about the caller in your head one night when you were drinking with him in a bar. Loves her a lot. Probably too much.

The alarms rang in your head that night, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. So annoying but at the same time so painful. You didn't know how to turn it off and you wish every single time you could.

"Darling," He whispered with such a loving voice, one you never heard from him when he answers your calls. Your heart ached but you knew better than to confront him about it. Instead you cry in the arms of the twinss—more on Atsumu's, since Osamu takes you through an hour long lecture of why you should have known better.

You know that much, you think.

You shouldn't have let yourself get dragged in this stupid situation, craving a taken man and his touches. Letting him in on your secrets even when he barely lets you get a peak in his.

"I miss you too, my love.. Oh?.. I'll be home soon." He speaks in pauses as he lets her finish speaking first. You close your eyes to prevent the liquid threatening to spill out, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting yourself from his lap to the passenger seat. His eyes widened a millimeter—almost as if he cares what you do, when he noticed you getting off him without having to tell you. You noticed he ended his call with her and you refuse to look back at him. If you do, you are sure of another sleepless night.

Another sleepless night of asking yourself what went wrong and if he ever regretted his decisions— maybe he, too, spend the night wide awake asking himself why he brushed off every single detail of the past like it never existed, why he acts like you're a stranger he met for the very first time when both of you coincidentally takes the seat next to each other on a bar, why he never gave you an explanation of what happened that day.

Cold fingers hook under your chin, slowly turning your head to the left. He leans over the center console, connecting his lips with the soft skin of your neck, making you exhale out at the feeling of him sucking all the reason in you again. He runs his tongue wet on your collarbones, creating a glistening trail.

"I'll see you soon?" He whispered on the crook of your neck, nibbling it a little with his teeth. The bruises he leave on your skin another reminder that everything is real.

You just hum with a nod, cupping his jaw and slowly pulling him away from you with a small smile. One of his bangs fell in the middle of his face—you reached up to brush it away.

So many unspoken words from you. Too many. You wonder if he has anything he's holding back to say too as his eyes linger on you a second longer than usual. Or maybe you're just desperately reading into the lines again, like what Osamu said way too many times.

"Rin, what.. what are we?" Every parting is like this, like a new way of saying goodbye that you both developed. You just needed to be reminded, to wake up from whatever delusions you're starting to have.

"Nothing." He replies as flatly as all the other times before. Not a hint of emotion – no amusement or remorse.

You swallow, letting your hands fall to your sides. On the verge of turning around and reaching the door, his voice echoes once again. "How many times are you gonna ask me this?"

Until you start feeling something.

You thought to yourself. Anger, disgust, love, hatred, adoration, anything. You just want him to feel something. Prove to yourself and everyone else that you're not just a tool to him.

"Sorry. Slipped out of habit." You settle for that response now. No point having a conversation with him about this.

"You don't have to leave right away, I can still drive you home."

Losing all the strength to refuse, you found yourself just agreeing with him. Why the fuck are you even so upset to begin with? You knew what you signed up for. You knew about the girl. You saw him with her in the very same bar a few nights ago. Watched how much attention he gives her, how tightly he holds her.

Of course, you knew about the girl. Your past with her woven in a way no one will be able to deny, and she knows it too, as much as Suna and the twins do. How could you forget? Everything to you was clear as day, from the very first day to the last. Rintarou knows it hurts you more this way, but he never bothers to hide it from you—how he chose her over you.

"I'll break your heart by the end of this, baby." He warns you as you feel his length slip inside you, making you moan out in ecstasy.

"I don't care." You pant, grabbing him by the hips as a way of telling him to go faster.

Looking back, maybe you shouldn't have been so foolish and say that. Now, you're paying the price. Now, your exit has been sealed.

The moment you met him, you forgot everything – your reason, pride, dignity, loyalty, sense, self-love. You hate how intoxicates you like the drugs on his backseat and yet you can't stop. You wonder if he knows how you feel about him—how you still feel about him. If he notices the way your eyes would light up when you see him or the way you would wrap your arms so tightly like you're afraid of letting him go.

The car stopped soon after and you looked out the window to find yourself in front of your house. You collected your things and fastened the clasp on your sandals then opened the door, stepping a foot outside when he once again stops you by the wrist.

"I'll call you soon. I promise."

"I'll be waiting." You wriggle out of his grip without looking back, stepping your remaining foot out to join with the other as you stand up to leave. "Take care, Rintarou."

"You too, baby." The sound of his tires grow fainter by the second as he speeds off to his and his girlfriend's shared apartment and it was so loud, you couldn't tell if there was a strain on his voice when he said that or if you just imagined it again in your head.

You didn't notice the sobs wrecking your body. Not until you feel warm droplets fall to your open palms in front of you. You clutched your phone tightly, holding it to your chest.

You can only hope the next call comes soon, interrupting the continuous flow of the songs on your phone—the very records that remind you of what you never had—or perhaps, if things went a different turn; what you could've had with him.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fic #suna x reader #suna x you #suna smut #suna angst #suna fic #suna rintarou angst #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro x reader

[galest-pal]

Back at it again with Greed fanfics

In a sudden burst of motivation last night, I managed to crank out a reader fic for one of my favorite prompts!

Summary: A late night closing at the Devil’s nest turns into something unexpected as you’re forced to confront your feelings for your boss, Greed

Pairing: Greed x F!Reader (no y/n) I promise you, I’ll write more GN and Male reader in the future 

Warnings: No explicit smut (I’ll post the smutty second part at another time), Steamy flirting, bratty behavior from reader, Mutual pining, mention of alcohol, both you and Greed have rather vivid imaginations

Word Count: 1.7k

If you have any feedback or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me a message or ask :) <3

        A dim light flickered above you as you stood at what was usually a crowded and lively bar counter. It was an hour or so after you had announced your last call and the remaining stragglers had vacated the area. Now it was just you left with your closing tasks. Your boss never really told you that you had to do these things but feeling a sense of responsibility (and pride) you took upon yourself to treat this as any other place you’ve worked before. A last minute group had caused you to be much more behind than you were used to. By this time you were long gone home and asleep. You stifled a yawn as you continued to polish the various glasses that were nestled behind the counter.

       A sudden knock at the door nearly caused the shot glass in your hand to crash to the ground. You let out a groan as you roughly slammed the glass onto the counter.

       “Look, can’t you read we close at 2!” You shouted at the closed door as you made your way over, yanking open expecting to be met with one of the local sleazeballs that hung around this place. You cut off your remaining insults as you were met face to face with your boss, the owner, Greed. His haunting eyes locked with yours as he leaned against the door frame wearing a rather amused look on his face.

      “M-Mr.Greed! Sir, I had no idea, I-” You rambled more to yourself as you stepped to the side to let him in. You scurried back to your familiar place behind the bar as you continued with a more rushed pace. It’s not that Greed scared you, far from it actually. He may be intimidating, sure but as far as bosses go, he certainly was up there with one of the best. Truth be told you were infatuated with him. One day Dolcetto accidentally spilled the beans on how Greed wasn’t exactly human or even chimera for that matter. Your attempts to grill him for more info were futile as he would just shrug and say

      “If you’re so curious, just go and ask him.” 

      Stubborn bastard. Every ounce of you wanted more than anything to know more about this guy and yet each time you found yourself stuttering and blushing like a schoolgirl. The last thing you wanted was for him to think of you as some bumbling moron. 

       Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Greed as he nonchalantly sauntered over to his usual perch on the nearby couch. No more than five minutes had passed as you found yourself getting antsy. It was hard enough that the two of you were breathing the same air but you could practically feel his eyes on you. You let out an involuntary shudder as you began to nervously chew at your cheek. To Hell with the closing tasks, with a little courage you could drift on over to him and tell him or rather show him how you felt. Heat blossomed on your cheeks are your imagination thought of rather passionate images. You let out a frustrated groan as you shook those thoughts away, this seemed to catch Greed’s attention as he voted to leave his usual spot for a more favorable position.

       “Ahem, have a rough night?” You nearly shrieked as Greed’s voice tore you from your mental prison. Rather than being a safe distance of several feet away, he was now sitting at the barstool located right in front of you. You cleared your throat and let out a nervous laugh.

     “N-no, not really. Just a late one I suppose.” You choked out your half-assed excuse and went back to polishing the glasses.

     Greed let out a laugh as he reached a long arm over the counter, you felt his hand brush against your hip as he snagged one of the clean shot glasses. At just that small of a touch, you felt your heart rate quicken and your knees slightly buckle. Greed either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he continued with grabbing a nearby left out bottle of booze as if nothing happened.

       “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you were afraid of me.” Greed spoke, keeping his gaze fixated on the now full glass in front of him. He held a rather bored expression as he studied the amber liquid. You gulped.

     “No, of course not! How could I ever! You’ve been so good to me, I practically owe you my life. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be struggling to make ends meet.” You laughed nervously as you began to twiddle with your fingers. If only it were as easy as just saying ‘I crave you more than I crave air or water, Greed! Take me!’ but having such an intimate relationship with one’s boss was highly frowned upon. His posture remained unchanged but his eyes flicked up over his sunglasses to meet yours. You fought the urge to tear your gaze away but worried that that would have the undesired effect.

     “If I may.” Greed spoke as he propped his elbows against the counter. “Do you...live alone?” What the hell kind of question was that? Did he want to know about your family? No, that’s stupid, you've always been open about how far your parents lived. You pondered to yourself. If he isn’t asking about parents...and the only other type of person you’d live with is a...    

You quirked an eyebrow as you thought of the best way to approach this. 

    “N-no sir. I live alone. I’ve had a few relationships in the past, if that’s what you’re asking. But they all fell through.” Greed mentally kicked himself as he cursed at how quickly you saw through his question.

    “So, no special guy or gal in your heart at the moment?” He attempted to remain unbothered as he ran a hand through his hair to try to calm his nerves. Normally talking to humans wasn’t this hard but when it came to you it was like all the knowledge that Greed had so meticulously gathered over his 200 years of life was just whoosh out the window, gone, never to be seen again. Both of your gazes had been locked on each other before a laugh from you cut through the deafening silence.

     “Wow, you cut right to the chase, huh?” You giggled once more, reaching for both the bottle and glass. If this is how this conversation was going to go, you were going to need all the courage you could get your hands on. You poured yourself a glass as you mulled over Greed’s question. You didn’t want to lie to him, after all he made it a very clear point to never lie to another soul. But then again, you weren’t really planning on confessing tonight either. You downed your shot as the whiskey slightly burned at your throat on its way down. Perhaps playing it coy would be a safe bet. Greed’s gaze on you was unwavering as he watched you put both the glass and bottle back into its rightful places. He watched as you struggled to get the bottle of whiskey back to its high up place on the shelf of various alcoholic beverages, with each little futile jump, your skirt began to hike up more and more giving him a taste of your bare skin that he hadn’t yet seen. Greed wanted more than anything to rip those clothes right off your body and finally get a taste of what you felt like pressed against him. He could feel his need growing as his heart began to beat faster and the crotch of his pants began to get tighter.

    After finally, getting everything back in their rightful place you turned back to Greed, ready to answer his burning question.

    “Well, Mister Greed.” you paused as you leaned against the counter, whether it was just the one shot or the way you could see him visibly shift in his seat, you were filled with a newfound confidence. You mentally high fived yourself as you remembered that you had left the first few buttons of your blouse open giving whoever you desired an open view to your cleavage as a way to make more tips, but in this case Greed’s attention was worth far more than any tip ever could. Greed kept his lips sealed as he mentally battled his eyes to keep in touch with yours and not your chest.

   “There is one particular guy that I’ve had my eye on.” you said with a shrug “But I have no way of knowing if he feels the same.” Greed caught on to your cocky tone and decided that he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction, at least not yet.

     “Really? Hmm, that’s a shame and here I thought you and Dolcetto were just friends. Guess I should’ve known seeing how much time you two spend together.” Greed returned with a smirk. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

    “He’s my friend. And a good one at that, but it’s not like you would care to know or anything.” You bit back at him. Greed raised an eyebrow, his lighthearted demeanor suddenly vanishing.

     “You better watch your mouth, Sugar. Or else you’ll find that I’m not always such a nice guy.” Greed said as he rose from his seat. You however still had your face turned away stubbornly.

     “Why don’t you get your ass over here and make me shut my mouth.” The clatter of a barstool falling to the ground caught your attention and before you could register that he had vaulted over the counter, Greed was already behind you. He felt his strong hands harshly grab yours. Pinning them to the counter as he took a step closer, nestling his head near the crook of your neck. You could feel his chest pushed up against your back as his rough ragged breathing filled your ear. You fought the urge to shudder.

    “My my you’ve got quite the attitude on you sooner or later that’s going to get you into trouble.” Greed whispered right into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. You struggled to think of a response as your head started to cloud with a mix of fear and pure sexual need. Your heart beat rang loud in your ears as you could feel your legs begin to struggle to hold your weight.

Sorry for the sudden cliff-hanger but gotta keep the first part n$fw free for the most part!!

#fma #fmab #fma greed #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma 03 #fma x reader #greed x reader

[scullydubois]

24. things you said when we were alone from the mini fic prompt list

i needed this so much, thank you! from this prompt list, here's some msr fluff set in the snowcat vehicle during ftf...600 words, also on ao3 here.

--------------------------

He blinks back into consciousness, which is distinguishable from sleep only by his heavy limbs and the unchanging greyness of the landscape. The view outside the window is the same as the last time he opened his eyes, which feels as much like a dream as it does a memory. Icy, barren, brutal. This is no place for anyone...not even him.

He is numb to everything except a weight and warmth near--one that could not possibly have originated from him, for he has known nothing except ragging breath and stillness for...well, he doesn’t know how long. There are no sunrises or sunsets here to mark the time.

He remembers, then, why he is here. That he’s not alone. That he came here to rescue the one person that’s ever believed him when he needed it, and that he did, and so she must be here, she must be that weight against his side.

Something rustles against his shoulder. He turns his head--still processing the world in slow motion--and yes , there is his partner, curled into a ball. Her whole body--precious little thing--is enveloped by their jackets, which have been draped carefully over his shoulder blades too during one of those uncountable hours. Her eyes are closed, but her skin has enough color in it for him to attribute the stirring to her.

“Scully.” His voice is faint from extended silence.

Her eyes pop open. “Mulder.” Traces of life, of awareness come to her face--she seems to be faring better than him in this escape from the hellscape. She sits up and burrows into his side, resting her head on his bicep; sharing her warmth.

“How did you find me?” she asks, having decided there is nothing they can do for each other besides this heart-to-heart huddle.

The simple hearing of the question places Mulder back in the timeline of his life, his motives and memories no longer so blurred.

“The Lone Gunmen helped me pinpoint some coordinates. It was a crapshoot, mostly.”

She places her hand over the left side of his chest, where he can only assume she is feeling his pulse.

“Is it still beating?” he mumbles, because maybe this is how his heaven would turn out.

“Yes,” she hums. “I’ve checked a few times.”

Mulder once read that the heart can keep beating outside of the body. He does not know why he is thinking about this right now.

Again, his partner’s fingers graze his skin, this time probing the wound near his hairline.

“What happened to you?” Her voice feels nearer than anything he has ever known.

Mulder shifts, his neck cracking as he stretches. “I was shot by the so-called ambulance drivers who--you know--kidnapped you.”

“And then you came out to Antarctica by yourself?” Her breath caresses his ear. “You don’t place much value on your life, do you?”

“It’s not my life I was thinking about.” It slips out like a reflex. He would be embarrassed if they weren’t alone together at the end of the world.

There is no perceptible change on Scully’s face. “You were going to kiss me.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“You were kissing me, I think,” he murmurs in response.

“We were going to kiss each other,” she corrects, staring out at the snow.

Mulder nods. “You could say so.” The clean lines of his partner’s profile are a sight to behold, yet they are one-upped in an instant by the glimmer in her eyes as she turns to him. Something like a smile draws up the edges of her lips.

“Could we do it correctly this time?”

#i'm baby #i'll do more if someone wants to send one!! #txf #txf fic #prompts #mine