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theladyofdeath · 2 years

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The Viscount Who Loved Me {Eleven}

TVWLM Masterlist

*CHAPTER WARNING: NSFW

An A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction, inspired by the first 2 seasons of Bridgerton.

Written alongside @snelbz

Ships: Nesta x Cassian x Elain - Feyre x Rhysand - Elain x Azriel x Gwyn

Summary: (see TVWLM masterlist!)

A/N: Thank you for reading! This chapter is lovingly entitled, "Bat Bois and their Lady Problems".

Tag list is at the end. If you’d like to be added, please comment below or submit an ask. :)

Dear Readers,

After last night's ball, my attention lingers on the Viscount. Not only did he share two dances with the season's Diamond, stealing her away from the Prince of Spring, but he even indulged her in pleasant conversation over lemonade.

I cannot help but wonder what's going through that pretty little mind of his. Perhaps our Viscount has met his match, at last.

I suppose we shall wait and see.

The Suriel

Rhysand laid awake in bed, wondering if Feyre was doing the same. He couldn’t get the night out of his mind, couldn’t forget the way she tasted, the way she felt in his arms.

They kissed.

That was it, nothing more.

It was inappropriate, to say the least, she was a lady and Rhysand would never marry. But, she knew that about him and she had kissed him anyway. She had kissed him.

And, if they hadn’t come to their senses, it would have gone much further than that.

They had come to their senses, though, had broken that kiss, smoothed out their clothes, waited until the swelling of their lips went down and then Feyre went back inside. Although it hadn’t been a part of their deal, Rhysand left then before the ball was done.

He couldn’t stay, though. He couldn’t watch her dance with anyone else.

He knew he’d affected her, but he had no idea that he’d affected her so. When he saw her chest flushed, her eyes so filled with lust for him that the blue-gray he usually lost himself in was just as absent as his brain was around her.

Because if he were using his brain, his exceptionally educated brain, he wouldn’t have kissed her back. He wouldn’t have even constructed this ridiculous plan with her.

He still owed her one more dance.

He dragged a hand down his face, letting his hand fall upon his bare chest. The sounds she’d made when he kissed her…

Gods, this is not what he’d had in mind when they came to their agreement. To get a reprieve from the young ladies of Velaris and their mamas, that’s all he had expected. Not to be enchanted by the Diamond of the season, to be entranced by her beauty and hung on her every word. There was something about her that captivated him, to the point where he was awake, nearly six hours after he’d seen her.

So wrapped up in her.

Constantly thinking of her.

Thinking of what they had done and all the things they could do.

All the things he could do to her, and she to him. The thought alone sent shivers down his spine. He had been with plenty of women, but none of them made him feel like Feyre did based on conversation alone, based on just being near her, based on the way his body went wild with the mere brush of their lips.

It was torturous.

Rhysand closed his eyes and pictured her face, pictured the way her hands swept across his chest, around his neck. Her body had hit against his perfectly.

The kiss had broken apart too soon.

If he hadn’t had any sense at all, he would be off his ass and on his horse, riding to her home and knocking on her window, hoping she would let him in. He wouldn’t, though. He was a gentleman, after all.

He hated himself for being a gentleman.

Rhysand rolled onto his back with a groan, fully aware of the situation he now found himself in. He glanced down at the pitched tent that had appeared in his blanket just below his waist and cursed Feyre’s name.

Which made him wonder what she sounded like when she cursed. What his name would sound like as a breathy moan from her full lips. What she sounded like as she came.

He was no better than a teenager, lusting after a school yard crush.

With a mutter about how she’d pay for making him like this, Rhys was tossing the blankets back and kicking off his sleeping pants, his boxer shorts going with them. One look at his painfully hard cock told him there’d be no rest until he took care of his current predicament.

Fisting himself, Rhys grunted lightly, followed by a shudder as he began to stroke, watching as that glossy bead oozed from the tip. He swept it up in a single pass and pumped himself.

As his eyes fell shut, he, again, thought of what Feyre may sound like when she came. Based on the noises she’d made while they were kissing, he’d be willing to bet she was more likely to moan than scream, but he wouldn’t be upset if she did both occasionally. Especially if it was his name.

The thought alone had his body jerking, his hips starting to writhe. He felt foolish, not having touched himself in years, but not caring. He would rather do this with thoughts of her filling his mind than being balls deep in a whore that he felt nothing for.

Which was typically how he found his release.

But it was meaningless, that sort of lovemaking. He had respect for the women that sold themselves, that collected gold for giving the lonely an hour of pleasure, had made good acquaintances with a handful of women that worked at the brothel down by the docks, but he had felt more kissing Feyre for five minutes than he ever had in an hour there.

His hand pumped faster and his head fell back. He cursed, his mind emptying of all thoughts that did not include her.

Feyre.

She had compelled him, had overtaken every ounce of his being. He knew he was in deep shit, knew he was setting himself up for failure, for heartbreak, but he was nearing that point of no return, of not caring. She would go on to find a husband and he would be nothing more than a distant memory.

The deep churning in his lower belly grew and his breathing was ragged, still Rhys continued to stroke his cock, harder than he should have, rough enough that he could feel the undercurrent of pain. He was already this far gone, was already thinking of Feyre in such inappropriate ways, he let himself imagine what those full lips would look like wrapped around his cock, what she would taste like if he got between her legs.

Gods, the thought of that alone almost had him cumming then.

He knew she knew nothing of sex, knew that she was, most undoubtedly, a virgin. The idea of her finding a husband at the end of the season, of someone else teaching her the ins and outs of pleasure, of her own body, of that not being him? It filled him with a sickening feeling he wouldn’t allow himself to linger on.

Letting himself go, Rhys imagined what her breasts would look like, her pretty, pink sex, the shape of her mouth as she reached orgasmic bliss. He imagined what the room would smell like after he showed her what true pleasure was.

But mostly, he didn’t need to imagine anything.

Because all it took for him to fall over the edge, for shining stars to rocket through his very being, was the thought of her beautiful face, moonlight turning those blue-gray eyes silver, asking him to kiss her again.

He came, the hand fisting his cock slowing until there was nothing left. His chest heaved, the sounds of his heavy breaths deafening in his silent bedchamber. He closed his eyes and hated that the first thing he saw was her face.

He pushed himself off his bed and stalked across the dark room to clean himself up. In hopes of finding sleep, he laid back down, but could only form one thought.

This woman would surely be the death of him.

<.>

Cassian wasn’t sure how to feel about his dance with Nesta earlier that night. He wasn’t sure why she wanted to dance with him, although he had a feeling it was Elain’s doing. He wasn’t sure why, was not sure what the purpose had been, but he had a feeling that it was not Elain’s intent to make him think about Nesta until wee hours in the morning.

He broke his rule.

He laid in Tanwyn’s bed, gloriously nude, smelling of sex and her jasmine perfume.

He’d told himself at the beginning of the season that he would lay with no one else except his future wife from here on out. But then he couldn’t get that aggravating woman out of his head, how expertly she’d danced and handled her body. He’d gotten a scent of her in a way he never had, spices and cracking flames and…vanilla. He wasn’t sure why the sweet scent shocked him, when this girl was all icy stares and hard words.

But it was stuck in his head, consuming his thoughts until his cock was stiff and his mind was made up.

He heard the woman herself finishing up in the attached bathing room and he extinguished a cigarette before Tanwyn could emerge. He’d already stuck one leg in his pants by the time she stepped out and a pout appeared on her lips.

“You’re leaving? I thought you’d stay.”

“Not anymore, you know that,” he sighed, dropping coins on her nightstand.

“It’s twenty now.”

He turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised. Her eyes were hard, her lips set in a harsh line now.

“Twenty?” He asked, chuckling. “You’ve always charged me ten.”

“Prices just went up,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. The sheer robe she wore did little to cover her, but he knew that wasn’t what she was worried about.

He scoffed, dropping two more coins, and grabbed his shirt from where it hung on the footboard. For good measure, he swigged the rest of the whiskey from the glass she’d offered him. “Message received.”

“Wait,” she said, following after him as he headed for the door, stepping into his boots as he went.

He stopped at the door, feeling frustrated and something else he could not quite name.

She stopped just behind him and ran her hands down his back. He frowned as he turned around. “What?”

“I don’t want you to leave angry,” she said, quietly, hands remaining on his body, now against his abdomen. “Especially not if this will be our last time.” Cassian's jaw locked. “Will this be our last time, Cass?”

Cass. A nickname his closest friends called him. He supposed that Tanwyn had become that over the years for him. At first, it was just sex, but he had grown to like their conversations, had grown to like staying in her bed through the night and waking up there in the morning.

“Yes,” he said, at last.

Tanwyn shook her head. She wore a smile that Cassian found wistful. “I don’t believe that. Our bodies move too well together. You’ll be back. You always come back.”

Cassian hesitated, then sighed. “I’m proposing soon. I’ll have a fiancée, then a wife. I may like coming here, Tanwyn, but I am a man of honor.”

“Are you?” She crooned, with no hesitation. She looked up at him, palms flat across his chest. “You forget that I know you better than most. I know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Cassian said nothing, nor did he move.

“Fine,” she said, quietly, and he couldn’t tell if she was angry, tired, or if she simply did not believe him. “I will miss you, then. You were the one that I have always looked forward to.”

Cassian let out a breath and cupped Tanwyn’s face in his hands. “For what it’s worth, I will miss you, too.”

He brought her forehead to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against her skin. She leaned up then and met his mouth with her own. She did not allow most clients to kiss her, for she found it far more intimate than any sexual act, but Cassian was different.

She always kissed him.

Cassian leaned back, his hands falling from her face, back to his sides.

“One more time?” She whispered. “To say goodbye?”

He slipped another coin into her hand. “No,” he breathed, “because I’m saying goodbye.”

And then he was gone, hurrying out into the late night street. He was wide awake, which was unfortunate because he knew both of his brothers were likely asleep, but he wouldn’t bother either of them. Instead, he saddled his horse and headed for home.

Which of course, reminded him of the last time he’d made this ride. It was early in the morning, not the middle of the night, but he’d met her that day.

Nesta Archeron had intrigued him from the very start, braid streaming behind her as she rode through the game park.

Unfortunately, as he rode now, there was no hooded woman racing ahead of him.

As he approached his home, he chastised himself again for thinking of her. That was what had chased him out of bed and into Tanwyn’s, and he sure as hell wasn’t going back.

He took his horse to the stables, putting him up and returning to his saddle to its rightful home, before heading into the house, listening for any sign of life from his brothers or the staff. There was none, not a single sound from any floor, and Cassian headed up the stairs. Rather than go left, towards the wing of rooms he and Azriel shared in the townhouse, he headed to the right, to where his office sat at the end of the hall, across from Az’s.

He strolled in, closing the door behind him, and went straight to a bookshelf along the wall. Opening a cabinet beneath, he reached inside and plucked something from along the back of the hidden shelf. When he pulled his arm back out, he held a small, dusty key.

Turning towards his desk, Cassian ignored the small mountain of papers he’d been pretending didn’t exist and aimed for the small lock box hidden in the back of a drawer. He unlocked it, moving small mementos and things that meant more to him than he could imagine. It was why he kept them all locked away, away from prying eyes and jokes that could be made, not understanding the pain each would inflict.

Then he saw it, the small box nestled at the very bottom. Flipping it open, he admired the ring inside.

It had been his mother’s.

Cassian hated his father. This was not the ring that he had given her. No, she had been buried with that, but this ring was far more special.

It had been Cassian’s grandmother’s and passed down upon her death to her only child, Cassian’s mother. She had saved it for him to give to his future wife.

And he’d had it locked away for years.

Now, it was time.

Now, he would ask a lady for her hand in marriage.

The only issue was that the woman he intended to marry was not the same woman that he could not stop thinking of.

Maybe Tanwyn was right.

He was not a man of honor.

<.>

Azriel stumbled across the floor of his bedchamber, hardly hauling himself up before he landed on the hardwood, face first.

He did not know how much he’d had to drink, nor did he care. All that he knew was that he felt good.

Today had been his first day at the Academy and while everyone he’d met had been welcoming, he worried they’d thought he wouldn’t cut it. Nearly everyone had either already studied somewhere or were published artists and suddenly, he felt like a hack that had been sketching in his room for years.

One thing he noticed immediately?

Paint was almost everyone’s preferred medium.

Barely anyone sketched and when they did, their final assignments were usually submitted in paint.

That’s how he ended up with three canvases of varying sizes propped against his wall, paint strewn across the floors, and an entire bottle of whiskey in his belly.

His chest was bare, but he had never actually made it to getting ready for bed. All he wore was his trousers from the day, his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides. His feet were bare and spackled with paint, as was his chest and hair.

He had already ruined two of his canvases, having gotten so frustrated while trying to paint a simple landscape that he intentionally sabotaged them. Now he stared at the third one, its blankness haunting him.

He took another step toward it, his body swaying. He closed his eyes until he no longer felt like he was aboard a ship.

After muttering a curse, he dipped the tip of his brush in the green splotch on his pallet and began. He was going for a simple starry night, a hilly landscape, but the second he put the brush to the canvas, his body gave up on the simple task of functioning and next thing he knew, he was lying on his rug.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, at least he thought he did as his pallet landed flat against his chest, painting his skin.

He swore he heard a door open and close downstairs. Az had no idea what time it was, had allowed himself to lose his mind and body to the art. But also, mostly to the drink.

Azriel craned his head to look at the door, as if whoever it was would be coming to his door. If it were either of his brothers, they very well might if they saw his lamps on, so scrambling to his feet, Az blew the lamp out that was closest to the door, extinguishing some of the light that would be streaming out from under the door.

The second lamp across the room was blown out just as he heard someone climbing the stairs and he quieted in the dark room. Now the only light source was the moon and starlight of Velaris.

Expecting to hear movement from the door across the hall from him, he was surprised when he heard Cassian’s office door open and close on the other end of the hall.

After he released a deep breath, Az’s heart settled for the first time that night, allowing him to really take in his room. Paint was on not only the canvases and wood floors, but also the furniture, walls, and, somehow, the ceiling.

Miryam was going to be livid.

Rhys might be, but at the same time, he may only be angry because he hadn’t invited him and Cass to join him in his artist debauchery.

He continued to scan the room until he saw his sketchbook lying open on top of the table by the fireplace. Buttery yellow paint had been flung in that direction and with a flash of horror, he realized that paint had strewn right across the open face of the sketch pad. Hurrying over to it, he prayed it was open to any sketch but one.

He didn’t know why he bothered, the gods hadn’t answered him in years.

Fishing his handkerchief out of his pocket, Az gently dragged the fabric across the surface of the drawing, wiping away what he could. He was cursing himself for his stupidity when he looked at what he could see of the drawing.

Even through the stain of the yellow paint, Elain’s radiant features could still be seen, as could the sitting room around her. It almost seemed as if she was sitting swathed in warm, buttery sunshine. Setting the sketchbook down, Azriel sighed, refusing to think of the woman immortalized on the piece of parchment. On his best friend’s future wife.

He would clean up tomorrow, he decided, knowing he didn’t have sufficient light to see. He also knew that he was more likely to stumble and hurt himself than to actually clean up his mess, so without even considering the paint that covered his bare chest, Azriel released the buttons along his trousers.

Flopping into his bed, he felt the sticking and sliding of the paint on his skin staining his bed sheets, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Tomorrow was a new day.

Tomorrow, he would show them all what he could do with a paintbrush.

__________________________________________________________

@mariamuses @photofeesh @the-regal-warrior @gracie-rosee @irisofink @strawberries-and-reveries @zeppelin-and-unicorns @live-the-fangirl-life @cassianscool @clacings @argentumstella @cuppamelia @chillspritecranberry @emilyrose111294 @awesomelena555 @gengen64 @dontbenddontbreak @blueunoias @liliput2203 @sleeping-and-books @kindofawalkingpoem @thebitchydonutcollector @shedoessoshedoes @cretaceous-therapod @emily-gsh @annie-laur @impossiblehistoryofquotes @midnightrose-reader @beanl1 @shniya-hiiragi @towhateverend87 @deezrmuhsheeple @pintas3107 @sarcasm-is-the-best-insult @santkazoya @lady-winter-sunrise @themoonthestarsthesuriel @story-scribbler @swankii-art-teacher @lordof-bloodshed @sv0430 @dreammoutlouddd @katlady13 @lokisllama @mrspettyferr @missannieshay @live-the-fangirl-life @headinclouds48 @secretlycressdarnel @awesomethreedragons @lokisllama @littlehoneyybee @vicioux @cest-la-vieve @lokisllama @thewinterroza @aching-for-distance

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kkoolaidd · 2 years

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I still love you.

So if anyone have read my Steve Harrington imagines, it follows those (:

Spoilers for season 4!!!!

“ You want to fill them in?” Dustin questions Max.

Max tells about what happened at the Munson trailer last night… Chrissy is fucking dead… wow. Wait wait wait!

“Wait! You guys believe it might be Eddie?” I laugh, “no way. Just no way.”

“Why?” Robin asks.

“Because I was with him the other night,” before I could finish.

“Wait? You were with him? Why?” Steve questions me.

“He could’ve easily killed me that night I spent the night. I’m the perfect target. My dad just died and I had to move out of state, no one really had been to worried about me.”

“Well I don’t know, Mrs. Byers would be very worried.” Dustin adds, I nod towards that.

“Again, why were you with him?” Steve asks again.

“Why does it matter? You went on a date last night.” I said.

“Because I want to make sure you are safe.. I mean he’s a freak.”

“Woooow” both Dustin and I said.

“First off, if you want to make sure I’m “safe” maybe hang out with me while I’m here than. Second, because you stood me up, I was crying and happened to run into Eddie. He was very caring and wanted me to smile, so we smoked and I spent the night.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Why does that matter? You probably slept with the girl you were with last night.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“No, Steve, I did not! Even if I did it’s none of your business. But surprisingly enough, I’m still waiting for the guy I love to realize that and just be with me and let me finally be that girl who sleeps with Steve Harrington, I want him to stop being so hung up on Nancy Wheeler, and needing to fill that hole with other girls. I can be that one person who fills that hole for you! But you won’t let me! So I gave up with you after yesterday. I know you will never love me, you might say you do but once Nancy is around it’s like I don’t exist.” I slam my hand on the counter. “Tell me when you guys find where he could be.” I walk outside. Now I normally wouldn’t care but god theres something about Steve… I cannot get him out of my mind. I guess, I still love you.

#stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eleven #el #mike wheeler #netflix #demogorgon #vecna stranger things

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volleychumps · 3 years

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« Insecure S/O Reacting to a Confession 2

part 1 here

format: scenarios

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi, Tendou, and Matsukawa

---------------------------------------------------

Iwaizumi Hajime

The sun wasn’t helping his flared cheeks in any way.

“Stop interfering.”

“Stop stalling then.” Oikawa grins, rubbing his best friend’s shoulders as if he were about to enter a boxing ring. The dark haired ace rubs his eyes in irritation with one hand, ignoring the flare against his cheeks as Iwaizumi attempts to shake his childhood friend off. The sight of you kneeled down in the school garden, hair pinned back away from your face as you tended to the flowers, made the heat surge through Iwa’s cheeks even more.

“I’m not.”

“Really? Because every day you approach her creepily from some distance, and then disappear. C’mooon, I already owe Hiro like fifteen bucks-”

“You’re betting on this, shithead?”

“Nope.” The answer comes out a little too quickly as Oikawa dodges a second swat. “She’s so pretty I might have to approach her myself-”

“Not another word.” Iwa grits out, Oikawa slightly smirking at the tick in his jaw and the way his onyx eyes harden. “I just...don’t wanna mess this up.”

“There’s nothing to mess up until you confess. Ah, young love.” Oikawa sighs dreamily, Iwaizumi ignoring his dramatic friend’s swoon before making a decision. Today was the day.

You wipe sweat from your forehead, attempting to ignore the beating sun down on your face as you tried to hurry the process a long, ensuring the flowers were getting just enough water. The touch of an icy can of tea against your cheek startles you, almost making you drop the watering pot before you hold a hand up against the bright sun rays, tilting your head in confusion at the broad-shouldered man in front of you.

“Iwaizumi?” You smile in greeting as Iwaizumi shuffles his feet, breath catching in his throat at the sight. He was so screwed.

You laugh a bit awkwardly, the cold touch of the can beginning to numb. “Um, is this for me?”

“Yes.” He curses himself at how stern it comes out, but you gently take the can from his grasp, nodding in thanks. “I-I know you like this one.”

“You do?”

“No.” He didn’t want to sound creepy, yet somehow made it worse.

“Oh.”

Iwaizumi was ready to kick himself. He was hoping you would understand, the day you shyly maneuvered your way through Oikawa’s fanclub to get to him to offer him an ice cold drink was the reason he became so infatuated in the first place.

“Well, thanks for the tea-”

“I like you.”

This time, you do drop the watering pot, eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights as Iwa’s heart sinks at your reaction.

“I get it, alright?” You mumble, sadness swimming in your stomach as Iwaizumi fought the need to dart off. “You’re the handsome volleyball ace all the girls want, and they put you up to ask me out as a joke again. It’s getting old.”

Ah.

Iwaizumi sighs, knowing that the other girls preyed on you for your beauty and soft heart, finding ways to hurt you in the most immature ways possible.

“Oi.” His heart tightens at the look of sorrow on your face, making him click his tongue before reaching a hand out before he can stop himself, smudging his thumb along the streak of dirt on your cheek. You look up at him in a doe-like manner, and your wet eyes are enough to make the ace want to hurt anyone who ever made you feel this way.

“I’m not kidding.”

“Iwa-”

“Hajime.” He cuts you off, hiding a smirk when he feels the heat rush to your cheeks. “You can call me Hajime. Only you.”

“Hajime.” you try it out, clapping your hand over your mouth once in shyness as Iwaizumi smiles a genuine grin, elated when you shy away into his touch.

“Then...please take care of me.” You manage, condensation running down to your other hand holding the can as Iwaizumi slips it out of your grasp, taking a heavy sip of it before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I finished this one. Can I take you to a cafe?”

“I’d love that.” You slip your gardening gloves off, Iwa slipping his hand into yours casually as you trail behind him, smiling when his grip tightens ever so slightly.

Surprisingly, the sun suddenly didn’t feel too hot today.

Tendou Satori

“Today’s the day fellas!”

“Oh, is it?” Shirabu mocks his surprise. “It’s not like you put ‘ask y/n’ out in huge block letters on our team calendar or anything.”

“Bingo!” Tendou points finger guns at his teammate as Semi shrugs at a disgruntled Shirabu. “I’m about to get myself a Miss Tendou Satori-”

“That’s not how that works-”

“Hush, Ushijima. Your logic won’t ruin my day today.” Tendou bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for practice to let out as he tugs his last shoe on, his other teammates still in the process of changing.

“Is she waiting for you?” Semi tugs his shirt overhead as Tendou hums happily in answer, Shirabu snarkily making a remark from the other side of the locker room.

“She’s out of your league.”

“I know she is! Which is why I’m going to treat her like the queen she is, since I myself am but a lowly peasant beneath her-” Tendou perks up at the time. “Gotta go, I’ll text you the outcome boys.”

“Please don’t.”

“Tendou-senpai-” But the redhead had already darted through the door as Ushijima glances at his worried kouhai, tilting his head in question.

“What, Goshiki?”

“Isn’t Y/N L/N the one who had that mean prank pulled on her last year?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you rocked on the balls of your feet, fidgeting with the ends of your skirt as you wait for the rambunctious redhead on the volleyball team. No way a cute guy like him was actually-

“Did I make ya wait long?” A pair of sneakers appear in your view, making you lift your head as Tendou Satori casts you a wide grin, school shoes hanging in his other hand. You tilt your head, wondering if he rushed here.

“Did you need something from me, senpai?” You blink, swinging your legs lightly on the bench you were sitting on, fearing the worst. Tendou clears his throat, suddenly feeling the nervousness he had been outrunning catch up to him. He can’t mess this up. Ever since you had adorably asked him to reach something for you at the snack shop for the school, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind. He made sure to wait around during the same time during lunch hour, your usual snack already in hand and plucked off the highest shelf.

“Go out with me.”

You flinch. There it was.

His smile fades slowly with every beat of silence that soaks in the atmosphere between the two of you, and you swallow back a sob.

“How much are they giving you to do this?”

Tendou’s shoes hit the floor, his eyes blinking rapidly in confusion as you refuse to meet his questioning gaze.

“What?”

“I um, can help you if you want. Go out with you for a few days so they really believe-”

“Hey, hey!” Tendou’s arms begin to flail around as he shakes his head no. “I mean it Y/N, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. I really wanna date you for real-”

“You do?”

Tendou’s chest felt heavier at the crack in your voice and insecurity swirling in your eyes, and he nods his head, kneeling in front of you carefully before asking to take your hands with his eyes.

“I 100% do. You can strip me of my honor if I’m lying.”

This makes you crack a smile, making Tendou breathe out a sigh of relief through his nose. He thumps his forehead against yours, making your eyes glint in a way they haven’t in awhile.

“Can this lowly senpai please take you out on a date this weekend?”

“No, my lowly senpai cannot.” You say, turning your palms over so he can hold them properly. Tendou quirks an eyebrow, but he’s slightly smirking as you offer a shy smile.

“But my boyfriend can.”

Matsukawa Issei

“You’re staring again, ya creep.”

“I think the term you’re looking for is skillful admiring-”

“Just ask her out.” Hanamaki yawns, getting comfy on his best friend’s desk as Matsukawa leans into his palm, eyeing the way you pout when your friends steal your snacks. So cute. “What’s the worst she’s gonna do, say no?”

“Yes.” Matsukawa sighs, hanging his head slightly as Hanamaki arches a brow, crossing his arms in pure amusement.

“Wow, Matsukawa Issei hung up over a girl?”

“Who the hell is hung up-”

Hanamaki arches a brow when his friend visibly tenses up, looking over only to smirk when he sees another boy in class shyly offer up his pocky to you, you gladly accepting and smiling widely in thanks. Issei rests his head on the desk, stubbornly looking out the window as Hanamaki withholds a laugh over the hold you have over your classmate.

“Oh just ask her out.” Hanamaki uncaps his drink. “You’re so into her dude, it’s making me sick.”

Issei shifts in his seat. Maybe his adoration for you wouldn’t have begun if it hadn’t been for the way your much shorter legs pumped to catch up to his figure, who had pretty much reached his home.

“Matsukawa-san!” You had gasped for breath, the messy-haired boy guiltily slipping his headphones off at how tired you seemed. Before he could profusely apologize, you shoved his notes in his hand, bright hue to his cheeks at the act of kindness.

“Um, you left this in the library!” you manage out, Matsukawa seeming to freeze in the moment. “I added some notes in there, I hope you don’t mind. It seemed kinda empty-”

“You wrote notes for me?” He finds his voice again, cursing himself at that being the first thing that came out.

“I was bored during free time anyways.” You scratched the back of your head before turning on your heel again. “Anyways, bye!”

And then you darted off again as Matsukawa Issei stayed still in his spot, wondering just why the hell his heart was beating at the pace it was going, colorful notes hanging from his grasp.

“I’m gonna do it.” Hanamaki almost falls off the desk at Matsukawa’s revelation and the way he suddenly stood up. “I could kiss you right now, Makki.”

“I’m praying to god, please don’t.”

You lean against the shoe lockers, humming to yourself as you wonder just what your classmate would need from you, figuring he wanted to properly thank you for the notes. You would accept it and go, knowing that Matsukawa Issei was favored among the girls-

“You’re here.”

“This.” You smile softly, holding up a folded note between your fingers as Matsukawa shoves his hand in his slack pockets, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “This made it hard for me not to be, you know?”

You eye him carefully, stomach sinking at the familiar situation in front of you.

“You might have already guessed,” Issei breathes, trying to steady the pounding in his ears. “Or Makki might have already told you because he’s a shithead like that-”

You tilt your head.

“-but I’ve got this killer crush on you. And if you could help me out, I would thoroughly appreciate it.” It comes out business-like, and you almost laugh if it hadn’t been for the weight in your throat.

“Help you out how?” He doesn’t notice the crack in your voice as he pulls his sleeves up to his forearms, swallowing tightly.

“I think a date would begin to ease the pain.”

You really do laugh this time, but it’s not the kind of laugh of amusement. It’s forced, awkward, and makes Issei falter in his smile and movements.

“Do they ever get bored?”

All playfulness drains from the middle blocker’s face as his tone hardens. “What are you talking about?”

“Sure, get the hot guy from the volleyball team to try and ask Y/N out, are you getting it on video?”

“Y/N-”

“I’ve gotta go.” you try to step away, eyes widening when he stops you with his much bigger frame. His lidded eyes widen at the tears prodding the corner of your eyes, carefully lifting a hand to swipe at them before looking at you seriously.

“You think I’m hot?”

You can’t withhold the giggle that escpaes you, sniffling slightly as Matsukawa smiles gently, wrapping his arm around you to touch the small of your back. You yelp a little when you find yourself crushed against his chest, your upper back touching the lockers.

“I don’t know what the hell happened to you in the past, but-” you look up at the handsome tall boy you had hand-written notes for, hoping your crush on him wasn’t too noticeable. “I can tell you right now that you’re really fuckin’ pretty, and I want to brag to my friends about how hot my girlfriend is-”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You cup his cheek in question as his grin widens.

“Make me your boyfriend and I’ll show you.” He winks, and you raise both eyebrows in amusement before practically speaking against his lips.

“I think we can arrange that.”

---------------------------

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diaphragmjellyfish · 3 years

Text

I Have This... Thing

Not My Gif

So as someone with vaginismus, it’s sometimes frustrating to read fan fiction, specifically smut. Y/N always has sex so easily and with very little foreplay, finishing with no issues. And it’s so great for people who can do that, but it’s not the case for all of us. Some of us can’t have any sort of penetration without pain. Some people can’t finish without toys, or hours of work. Some people will never be able to have penetrative sex. There’s all kinds of people, and there’s all kinds of sex. But not near enough fics featuring Y/N’s with these issues. So I’m going to write some, and feel free to request any issue with any character, and if I don’t know that character, we can collaborate to find a character you like that I do know.

Paul Lahote x reader smut.

You had lived in Forks for about 6 months now. You’ve known your new friends here for 5 months. And you’ve been the imprint of Paul Lahote for 3 months. Well, you’ve been his imprint since you guys first locked eyes at La Push when you first hung out with Emily, but he didn’t tell you about the whole werewolf/ imprint thing until 3 months ago. Safe to say it came as a shock. Your friends, the people who had welcomed you so easily, helped you move furniture around, and gave you tours of the new town, were WOLVES. Or engaged to wolves. *cough* Emily *cough*. You had to take a few weeks break from them after they told you. After Sam explained the legends, the lore. After Paul told you that you were basically his soul mate. It’s a lot to take in!

But you quickly realized that you had grown to love the pack. And now that you knew the big secret, things were easier around them. No more lies about where they had all been. No more avoiding talking about their mysterious injuries that only seemed to last for a couple hours. No more awkwardly dancing around why Paul stared at you constantly and wouldn’t let any other guy get within 6 feet of you without having a rage attack and sprinting into the woods. Things were going good.

Well… as good as they could be without sex. Yep. You and Paul had been together for 3 months and you have not had sex. You didn’t give each other head. You didn’t take your clothes off around each other. You didn’t even dry hump. And you knew it was your fault. You could tell that Paul was getting nervous about the fact that you wouldn’t let him touch you like that. He would never ask you about it, because he wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, but you could tell it was on his mind. The little sad smile he would give when you stopped things from going further. The hover of his hands over your ass before landing back on your waist. The way he looked almost guilty after looking at you in a swimsuit or crop top.

See, vaginismus made relationships difficult. You never had a long term relationship before Paul. You were either too scared to tell partners about it, and just dealt with the excruciating pain, which would lead to resentment and breakups, or you would tell them and they would ghost you. Guys don’t normally go for girls who’s opening line is “Hi! I cannot have sex without crying.” You’d been dilating for almost a year now. It was going okay. Some days hurt more than others. A lot of times, Paul would ask you to hang out when you were in the middle of your physical therapy, and you would have to make up some excuse as to why you couldn't. Too tired. Headache. Stomach bug. He was starting to catch on.

One day, you guys were hanging out at your apartment watching a movie. You had been making out, but as soon as it started getting slightly heated, you had pulled away and got up to get a drink refill. Paul, having gotten used to the routine, didn’t question you. While you were in the kitchen pouring some more juice, Paul asked “Hey babe? Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah it’s in the top drawer of my bedside table,” you haphazardly yelled back.

You heard him get up and go into your bedroom, rummaging around a little. Then silence.

“Hey babe?” he said hesitantly. You thought he just couldn’t find the charger, so you began walking towards your room to grab it for him. Once you got to the doorway, you stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes wide. Face bright red. Paul held up the dilator you were currently on, which was about 5 inches long and looked… well let’s be honest. It looked like a dildo. The bottle of lubricant that was also in the drawer didn’t help your case. How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself? You expected Paul to tease you, make some sex jokes, and maybe try to make out with you again, but he didn’t. He looked absolutely crushed.

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” He asked, sounding on the verge of tears.

“What?! Paul, of course I want to have sex with you!”

“Then why this?” he pressed.

“You don’t even know what that’s for. Let me explain,” you pleaded, afraid he was going to lose that infamous temper. You’d never witnessed it before, but you were scared you were about to.

“I think I have a pretty good guess about what this is for!” He exclaimed, holding it up. “You won’t even let me kiss your neck but you have this that you obviously use when I’m not around. You don’t want to have sex with me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Paul! That’s not true at all!” You were starting to get irritated at his assumptions. “It’s for physical therapy.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling orgasms now?” He questioned, exasperated.

“I’m not talking about orgasms! If you gave me two seconds to explain, you would know that that does not bring me an ounce of pleasure. I hate having to use it.” You started to tear up at this, all the memories of your struggles surging back up. At this, Paul stopped. He looked super confused, but also worried about you. God forbid you shed a tear, Paul would rip the world apart to make you happy again. “Come sit down,” you said, resigned, as you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. Paul, still holding the dilator in his hand, sat down next to you. The silence seemed to last an eternity, but you knew that the longer you went without explaining, the more hurt Paul would feel.

“I wasn’t lying when I said it was for physical therapy,” you whispered. “I have other ones. All different sizes.” You realized you might not have been helping your case with this.

“I don’t understand. Why do you need them if you don’t use them to get off?” He looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well… I have this thing. It’s like… a condition? And I need them so maybe one day I can have sex without any pain.” He still looked wildly confused, and you knew you were going to have to elaborate. “When I first started having sex, it hurt. A lot. But I always heard that it was supposed to hurt the first time. So I just kind of put up with it. It was bad though. I always tapped out, couldn’t go for more than a couple minutes. It felt like this really intense stinging. Like a rugburn all inside me. And it didn’t stop, even after I started doing it more. It never went away… I ended up googling it, and it’s actually something that a lot of women struggle with. I made a doctor’s appointment and was lucky enough to get diagnosed the first time. Lots of women are told they’re making it up. My doctor gave me these dilators, told me how to use them, and said that with enough time and physical therapy, I could have painless sex one day.” When you finished, you turned to look at him. He was staring intently at the dilator, thinking.

“So, you have to like… stretch yourself? Were you just born too small?” He phrased it delicately, but you knew what he meant.

“Basically, it’s an anxiety disorder with very physical symptoms. My pelvic floor muscles constrict when I try to put anything inside me, which makes it super painful. It’s like an involuntary reflex. Like blinking when something flies near your face. And I have to condition my body to learn that penetration doesn’t hurt, and that it doesn’t have to tighten up like that. The condition is called vaginismus. You can google it yourself if you want.”

“Oh.” A pause. Paul knew you had some anxiety, but he never guessed it could cause something like this. He knew you were embarrassed. He could tell. And the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you couldn’t be open and vulnerable with him. Did you think he would leave you? Or get mad? “Why didn’t you tell me?” Was the question that came out.

“It’s humiliating. I could tell you were getting antsy about us not having sex, and I guess I didn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. This physical therapy, it takes a while. I’ve already been doing it for almost a year, and I still have three sizes after this one.” A tear fell. You wiped it away quickly, hoping he Paul wouldn’t notice, but he did. He moved to wrap his arms around you, putting the dilator back on your nightstand. He embraced you, and the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere was more than you could handle. You burst into tears as he pulled you onto his lap and rocked you both, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You guys stayed there until you stopped crying, and then he finally spoke.

“Y/N, I don’t ever want you to feel like there’s something you can’t tell me. I love you. And yeah, I would love to have sex with you one day, but I’m with you because of who you are. I don’t care if we never do it. You are my person, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you the happiest you can be. This? This thing you think is such a problem? It’s irrelevant to me. To my love for you. And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, cheering you on, until you don’t want me anymore.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I love you, Paul,” was all you could say. You leaned in and shared the sweetest, most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. When you pulled away, the tension in the room was gone, replaced with you and Paul’s usual light, fun energy.

“How do you use them?” He smiled as he asked, nodding his head towards your nightstand where the dilator still rested. “Do you like… just ride them? Or..?”

You laughed, which made his smile broaden. “It’s not a sexual thing. Basically I put a towel down, cover the dilator in lube, and put it in as far as I can without pain. Then, I just sit there and leave it for like 20 minutes. And then I take it out.”

“So you just like... do homework while you do it?” His concerned face made you laugh again.

“You have to make your body associate it with pleasure, so no, I don’t do homework. Normally I’ll watch a funny show or eat some candy or FaceTime you.”

He froze at this. “You do this when we FaceTime?”

This made you blush and look away from his piercing gaze. “Sometimes. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just a nice distraction.”

“No, no. I don’t want you to stop. It’s just… can I see you do it?” This question shocked you. Not just the question itself, but the fact that you didn’t hate the idea. You loved kissing Paul. What better way to associate therapy with pleasure than by kissing him while you do it?

“Are you sure? Like I said, it’s not exactly sexual. Or sexy. Like at all. I literally just sit there.”

“I know, it’s ok. I want to be able to help you, but if you don’t want to we can just go back to the movie.”

“I mean I do still have to do it today.” You thought for another second, before jumping up and saying “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Paul looked happy and excited, but also lost. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his eyes. Did you want him to touch you? Or just watch you? Or just sit in the corner of the room and face the wall? You were spreading a towel across the middle of the bed, and went to untie your sweatpants before looking at him.

“Guess we haven’t really gotten this far, huh?” alluding to being naked in front of each other. It did make you a little nervous, and nerves equal tight muscles, which means pain.

“Why don’t you put a blanket over yourself? That way there’s less pressure,” he suggested, and you could have kissed him for it. You smiled, nodded, and grabbed a throw blanket from the chair. He turned around to face the wall while you took off your pants and settled under the blanket.

“Ok, I’m good.” you said. He turned back around, coming to kneel beside you on the bed.

“Do you want me to just… hold your hand? Or sit here and talk to you?”

“Would you want to sit behind me?” You suggested nervously, leaning forward slightly.

“Of course! Yeah, I can do that.” He took this seriously, and you appreciated that. This was a scenario you had thought about many times, and though you knew he wouldn’t be the type to ask you to have sex with him despite the pain, it was always a possibility. The fact that he didn’t take your pain lightly, and let you be in charge so you would be comfortable, meant more to you than he would ever know. Paul gently climbed behind you, putting his legs on either side of you, and hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. You leaned back into him, as if to say I’m okay with this.

“Can you hand me the… “ You nodded your head towards the nightstand, and Paul didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence before he leaned over and grabbed the dilator and bottle of lube, holding them out in front of you both. You muttered a “thanks” as you took them from his hands, and brought them under the blanket. After slathering the dilator with a good amount of lube, you closed the bottle and tossed it towards the foot of the bed, leaning back and shifting your hips down. Paul clearly didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, so he was slow and careful as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you time to say stop. You didn’t, though. He felt your body tense slightly as you dragged the tip of the dilator around your entrance, so he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, kissing your cheek. You turned your head to look at him, and he met you with a sweet kiss. You guys pulled away slightly, before going back in as you began to push the dilator in further. He kissed you with love, tenderness, and care, so as not to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It was clear that you had the reigns, and Paul would stop as soon as you gave the slightest indication that you were uncomfortable. The dilator was about half way in, and you felt a slight stinging sensation, but kissing Paul distracted you. You brought one hand up to cup the side of his face, pulling him back in.

Paul kept kissing you, waiting for your lips to part so he could brush his tongue against yours. This is normally where you would stop him, but he knew everything now. There was no expectation of more, and damn. Paul was a really good kisser. He sucked lightly at your lower lip, before nibbling it and letting it go, coming back in with his lips. The combination of Paul’s kisses, the slight heat they brought to your body, and the pressure of the tip of the dilator inside you had you shift your hips, and involuntarily let out a small moan. It was barely audible, but Paul and his super senses heard it. You pulled away and slapped a hand over your mouth, your face turning bright red. He chuckled deeply, the sound going straight to your body, and brought his hand up to pull your hand off your mouth. “Don’t you dare hide those sounds from me,” he teasingly whispered into your ear. You shivered, and Paul started to kiss your cheek, down your jaw, and onto your neck. He sucked on the soft skin, hands squeezing your waist and rubbing up and down. You wanted to try something. For the first time, dilating actually didn’t feel so obligatory, so mechanical and stiff. You pushed the dilator deeper in, just about a centimeter, but enough to give you that feeling you had moments ago. You let out a breathy sigh as you tilted your head to give Paul more room on your neck. He felt you shift your hips again, and brought one of his hands to rub circles on your lower stomach. Skin on skin. And it felt good.

You kept going like this for a few minutes, and Paul could feel your skin grow hotter by the second. Your back was arched, your neck covered in light red marks, and Paul had the intense desire to see you unravel. He brought his lips from your neck up to the side of your face, getting as close to eye contact as he could in this position, and said “Can I touch you?”

You knew what he meant. The thought of it made you nervous. No one had touched you without it hurting before. It was almost as if he read your mind when he followed with “I can just stay on the outside…” Oh. You could be down with that. You turned your head to him and nodded.

“Just try not to touch the dilator,” you said softly. You trusted Paul. He was already being so kind and patient with this, and you knew he would die before he would ever hurt you. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your stomach travelled lower. Lower. Lower. Until he could feel the slight stubble of a past shave, and then your soft, wet skin. You gasped as he touched your most sensitive parts, even more so because of how turned on you were. He gently made small, tight circles over your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell completely slack against him and let out a moan. A real moan, that Paul swore he would never forget. And he made you make that sound. It only spurred him on. He applied slightly more pressure, but not so much as to overwhelm you. And he knew that when girls were feeling good, the secret wasn’t faster or harder, but to keep doing exactly what you were doing. So that’s what he did, and it had you writhing. Your moans kept coming, and your legs had started to shake. However, because it felt so good, your muscles had started to clench around the dilator, and it was beginning to hurt.

You didn’t want to rain on the parade. It was going so well. But Paul being the attentive lover that he is, noticed you begin to tense up in a new way. He brought his hand back up to your stomach, concern racing through his brain, and asked “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“It’s kind of starting to. Not you, the dilator. I think I might take it out.” You stared down at his hand still touching your stomach. Such beautiful hands. You didn’t want it to end.

“Do you want to try a smaller one? Or do you want to stop?” He questioned.

“I really don’t want to stop,” you laughed. He breathed a laugh as well, and waited for your direction. You had a thought. Paul’s index finger was smaller than the dilator. Much smaller. If you just told him what to do and what not to do, that could feel really good. “Would you want to maybe… Nevermind.” You got nervous.

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t do that. Tell me what you want,” He brought a finger up to your chin and moved your face towards him. “Tell me. Whatever it is, Princess. It’s yours.” Your whole body shuddered at this. He’s never called you that before, and to say it did something to you would be an understatement.

You let out a breath, gathering courage, and said “Would you want to… use your finger?”

He stopped at this. “Like, put my finger inside you? That wouldn’t hurt?”

“I don’t think so. It’s smaller than this,” you said, bringing the dilator out and up. “And as long as I tell you what to do, it could be really good,” you said the last part shyly.

“Okay, Princess. I can do that. How do you want me to do it?”

“Try to do more… pressure, and less… friction? Like try not to go in and out so much, but you can move it around inside.” Your face was once again blushing intensely.

“Anything you want. You just have to promise that you’ll tell me if it even hurts a little.”

“I promise.” You said it confidently enough that Paul brought his hand back down under the blanket. He circled your clit a couple times, making you shiver and release a breathy sigh, before moving his middle finger even lower, circling your entrance. He gathered some of the lube that was there from the dilator, coating his finger, and you brought your hand down to hold it, guiding it inside you at a speed that was comfortable. It was smaller than the dilator, so he was in you in 15 seconds. He stopped, and gave you a minute to adjust. Your hips writhed again because of how turned on you were, so Paul brought his other hand down and began circling your clit again. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you began to moan again, hips moving even more now. Paul took this as his queue to press his middle finger up against your inner wall lightly, causing a loud moan to leave your mouth. You were too far gone to be embarrassed.

“There you go, baby,” he praised. God, this was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He was barely touching you, barely moving his finger inside you, and you were a mess. He had been rock hard since you guys started, but your ass was rubbing against him as you moved your hips, and he released a small growl at the feeling. This only turned you on more. He kept moving his finger in you the same way. Pressure, not friction. Pressure, not friction. He kept telling himself this. He wanted to finger bang you into oblivion, but the risk of hurting you was too high, so he kept up with rubbing the tip of his finger against that spot on your upper wall, in a “come-hither” motion. Your moans began to get higher in pitch, your body tensing even more.

“Relax your muscles for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, and you did. Your release was approaching rapidly, and you wanted to grind against his hand, but you didn’t want to risk pain, so you trusted Paul to get you there. You were panting, hips shuddering, face scrunched, as your climax hit you like a wave. Your legs shook as you opened your mouth in a silent scream, and Paul carried you all the way through it. You came down, and lightly grabbed his wrists. He knew that that meant stop. So he slowly withdrew his finger, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. Head still up in the clouds, you watched him, slack-jawed, as he popped his finger out and moaned. “So sweet,” he purred. Watching him suck on his finger like that made you think of something you’d like to suck on, and you looked down at Paul, still rock hard, and turned around in his lap.

“Let me return the favor,” you said with a smirk.

#twilight #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut #wolf pack #seth clearwater #embry call #quil ateara #sam uley #jacob black #jared cameron #robert pattinson #bella swan #edward cullen #vaginismus #dilating #paul lahote x reader smut #twilight smut

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yanderenightmare · 3 years

Note

Can you write some more about nice guy jock kiri? Please and thank you. Have a good day!

yandere ! KIRISHIMA EIJIRO - RED RIOT

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, suggestive language, manipulation, coercion

THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY

He said she could pick the movie this time.

He said she could pick out any movie at all. Whatever she wanted, they were going to watch. Yet in the time she’d spent making lunch, Kirishima sprawled lazily in her bed, browsing half-mindedly, eyes sliding from viewing the screen to looking at her round grabbable ass dancing as she padded about the small kitchen, begging for him to come pinch as she put the stir-fry in bowls and walked over to plot herself down next to the muscly block of man, he’d already picked a movie, far away from something she’d choose, though when eyeing what puppy-dog look he gave her, she couldn't very well say no.

Kirishima has always been clingy. She wouldn't like to call it suffocating, or controlling, though it does border on the word. But she cannot blame him for being handsy and suggestive when they’re alone, in her apartment, in her bed. He’s always been needy, always touching her, so very big-hearted and forward, easily distracted, easily discarding of tasks in favor of doing what new activity calls for his attention, like a dog.

She was becoming quite used to his confident nature, how hap-hazardously he would go about touching her, kissing and licking at her the way he so often went about doing, so much so it was strange to think that they hadn't ever actually slept together.

They had been dating for a couple weeks, and Kirishima was clear about his intentions and aspirations and wants and needs from the start, being a very open honest person, but she couldn't help but feel as though he was pushing her, nudging her, guilt-tripping her with candid words of how horny he was because of her, how frustrated he was, how frigid, how it was effecting his schoolwork, how good a boyfriend he was for waiting, for being patient and tolerant, how she couldn't blame him for wanting something in return, even though that something was a thing she wasn't ready to give him.

It would be wrong if she said he didn't respect her wishes, because he had, albeit begrudgingly. Each time she invited him over, or... he invited himself over, when he became rowdy, it would always take a good amount of bargaining and persuasion on her side, which was always met with even more coaxing and encouragement from him. How he would message his hand into the inside of her thigh, and she would push ever so gently to keep him at bay until he finally laid off, the mood stiff and awkward as he left her apartment to walk to his own place, alone, with a rejected boner he would have to take care of alone, then go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. He had still respected her wish in the end, or... maybe not respected, but at least accepted it.

She hadn't picked out the movie, and it being something she hadn't really invested very much thought into, she didn't try and stop him from nuzzling into her neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh found there. She allowed him to lift her shirt up to rub circles into her stomach with his warm roughened hand, let him grab and grope and mold her breast through the fabric of her bra, let him swing his leg over her body, to lock her position beneath him and his brawny heavy frame as he cuddled into her.

She could already feel the stiff bulge bump into her thigh, tried to forgive him for always riling himself up when he knows what her answer’s going to be, knows how she isn't ready to give him what he wants. Hearing his breathing picking up, becoming rugged and raspy, hot against her neck as he tried humping into her, having rolled and positioned and handled both their bodies so he could lie between her thighs, face mushed into the soft skin of her neck, nipping at her collarbones , spiky hair poking into the underside of her chin, hands abrasive when squeezing at the flesh of her ass and thighs, gripping them to lock around his torso, venturing to grab at her waist and breasts, becoming more and more frenzied, more and more rugged, forgetting his strength, forgetting her protests, getting more and more carried away.

She jolted once she felt his fingers hook into the band of her panties, having slipped up her skirt and spidered playfully up her thigh. She grabbed his arms loosely, small hands obviously not able to wrap around the thickness of his muscles, though applying what strength she deemed necessary to make him take her seriously, lightly digging her fingernails into his skin. “Uhm, Kiri-” She squeaked unsurely, breaching the shapeless noisy silence of heavy breathing and rugged groans and building growls that had filled the room, movie still quietly playing in the background, white noise completely ignored by the burning of her ears.

“Come on, let me feel.” He purred into her ear, giving her lobe a nibble.

“Uhm, I don't think-” She shoved at him, balls of her feet digging into the mattress, trying to sit up.

He laid his weight down on her, immobilizing her movement, keeping her under him. “Come on...” He drawled, voice rumbling. “Please?” Mumbling into her skin, knowing how it always makes her giggle from the tickle by the light scruff on his chin, knowing it makes her sweet and pliable. “Pretty please? It’ll feel good, I promise.”

He didn't really wait for any response, his face mushed into her neck, seeming cute as he pleaded but also acting as a great trap, his hand succeeded in pushing her panties aside, warm worn fingers, foreignly larger cuddled with the sensitivity kept there. His breath shuddered, lips spreading into a toothy grin against her neck, so wide she could feel it.

“Aww.” He moaned. “That’s so warm and wet.” She cringed, but hadn't the time to tell him to stop, hadn't the time to decide that she valued her limits more than maintaining the good vibe, and then she hadn't the mind to really think about it at all, too preoccupied with wrapping her thoughts around the fact that Eijiro had just pushed one thick knuckled finger inside her, roughly at that, pumped it in, stuffed her with it, with an equally chaffed thumb-pad laying heavy pressure down into her little beading clit.

It would probably have felt awful, the brutish boyish clumsy inconsiderate rubbing, but having him dry-hump into her for the better half of the entire movie made for a little messy spill between her thighs, perfectly ready to make whatever rough movement he gave seem like God’s touch, enough to have her moan at once.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, cocky undertone almost completely smoked out by livid lust, his arousal so very clear in his voice as he removed his weight when feeling her body melt and comply to what his hand was giving her of bliss. His large muscly frame rising to kneel between her legs, having her thighs hiked up and spread atop of his, forehead resting against hers. She bobbed her head in a series of quick sporadic nods, teeth biting harshly into her lip as she watched with a bowed head his finger disappear in and out the vulnerable sensitivity found between her spread thighs, the smell of beer on his heavy hot breaths fan over her face before he kissed her head. “You wanna cum?” She gave a moan, indicating an unspoken yes as he rubbed his thumb over and over her tender pearl, pushing another one of his long fingers inside her, making her gasp out a moan, mewing as he curled and scissored the two digits inside her, making her inevitable unraveling arrive much quicker.

He wiped his sticky hand on his pant leg with a small smug smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, watching as her head fell back to rest against the pillow again, beginning to unbutton his jeans.

The sound of him sliding down his zipper pulled her focus back, eyelids fluttering open just in time to watch him pull his throbbing hard erection out with a sigh. And though the red-head had gone about the reveal in an unceremonious manner, whether it was out of lack of showmanship or Kirishima deeming it unnecessary, it didn't really matter to the virgin beneath him. She took one look and she wasn’t able to look away. A surprising black bush drew her focus at first, what more the two easter-eggs that seemed to be nestling there, but not before long her eyes felt the need to follow what bulging pumping purple vein ran up the underside of the thickness, almost like a spine, or a pin that reached up to a red-blushed head, glossed like a candy-apple, with a slit running though it and a spill of pre-cum dripping down to disappear in the dark forest below.

She could swear it sized up to her whole arm’s-length.

Her eyebrows knitted as she continued eyeing the hard pole, watching it bob with strength, straining against his stomach, standing proudly on it’s own as he lifted his shirt off his arms and shoulders, throwing it to the floor, revealing what mouthwatering washboard rock-hard abs he kept beneath.

His hand once again reached out, this time to grab her wrist, guiding her shaking hand back to his thick member, watching her hesitate to wrap her delicate little fingers around his length once he squeezed her wrist too hard in impatience, seeing her bite her lip at the feel of the almost rubbery-smooth texture of his length in her palm, warm to the touch. His larger hand wrapped around her smaller one, guiding the movement as he started pumping up and down.

He groaned, head hung and resting atop her shoulder where he knelt with her sitting form in his lap, red eyes with wide pupils locked on watching her small hand loosely holding onto him, his cock looking so unbelievably huge in her tiny grasp, like some beast, where the more he thought about it and the more he looked, it was big compared to all of her, he could only imagine what she was thinking as she eyed his length with that cute childish level of curiosity and sweet tinge of virgin anxiety. She needed to bite her lip to prevent it from trembling, wanting to squeeze her thighs shut when they too became unruly, wanting to protect what was kept between them.

It only made his cock throb even harder.

“I- fuck-” He grunted, thrusting shallowly up into her hand by angling his hips up, looking down upon her enticing pretty silken dew-kissed heat, his finger greedily reaching to touch the tender entrance only to hear her whimper out a small whine at once when his rough digits brazenly made contact. “You’re so shy, it’s adorable.”

The loosely given hand-job felt good around his priorly ignored arousal, what with how sensitive he was, but was missing what her pussy was welcomingly dripping with.

He lowered himself, hand grabbing his base to steady the attack, yet was declined by her placing her own hand in front of the poor unsuspecting virgin tightness. “Uhm, Kiri- I-”

He shushed at her, prying her hand easily away, replacing it with his own, rubbing those electrical patterns he did before into her pretty budding pearl. “No, no, Baby. Come on. Pretty please, it’ll feel so good, I’ll be gentle okay? It’ll be good, I promise.” He swirled his thumb over her clit, an act far from gentle, though sending those sharp involuntary spikes of pleasure into her core, giving to something pooling in her stomach, something warm and sticky and heavier than before, almost burdening with how it strained in the muscles of her thighs, making her shake beneath the man’s mere thumb. “I love you, Baby, don't you want us to take the next step?”

“Uhm...” She gasped as he abused the sensitivity under his course strength.

“Thank you, Baby.” He purred, lips carved into a smile fit for devouring, planting kisses down her face and into her neck, his cock pushing into the velvet folds.

But she backed up, balls of her feet pushing into the mattress, her palms doing the same, but Kirishima had other plans, none of them including letting her up.

“Kiri, no-” She pushed lightly at his chest then, as she’d done before, trying to soothe and smooth over the feathers she’d ruffled, trying ever so gently in those small soft caresses to apologize for having riled him up so.

But seems this time he wouldn't have that either, her hands cupped and pulled rather dismissively out of the way, dominated by his own and how he intertwined his digits, raking them in with her dainty ones, locking their hands, or rather securing hers, before pushing them flat into the sheets beside her, giving him full access to what lied beneath him without her bothersome fists getting in his way. “Come on, Babe... stop being a little tease...” Her hands slipped their confinements in his as he rather needed them to manage her body, felt that twitching itch to grab and grope and tug and pull at all her doughy flesh. She gasped as he groped a mans handful of her ass, bumping his bare cock into her, rubbing it up and over her pussy, bobbing between their stomachs.

His face was still so adamant on nibbling at the flesh of her collar, leaving what she knew to be ugly swelling purple stains that turned into those vile green and yellow marks looking like fungus blooming on her skin. “I’m sorry-” It was all too much to have his warm skin pressed against her, his naked hardness, all of him, his rough hands, his brutish needle-sharp teeth, that thing that poked at her, humped into her where he’d made a sticky wet hot mess, with her underwear put somewhere out of sight and most definitely out of reach. “I’m not ready to-” Her hands tried softly but with increasing effort at getting him off, trying to get her discomfort across to the seemingly clueless baboon who was handling her body to his own selfish ends on top of her.

“It’s fine.” His voice was heated, soft despite trodding over her own, as he tried calming her down, again with his hands tugging at her wrists and pushing the annoying things away from him, again so he could lie himself down on top of her. “We’ll try something-” His efforts at soothing her weren’t appreciated by the girl beneath as she continued pushing, bordering on thrashing beneath the giant red-head.

“Kiri, stop. ” There was an edge to her voice this time, an edge he didn’t appreciate.

Large hand wrapped their fingers around her wrist and crushed it with a strength she couldn't hope to match, a dark chuckle following, rumbling just beside her ear alongside a small smile carving his lips at the cute pop of bones followed by her whimper. “Stop being so difficult, Babe.” He chastised, voice dismissive and completely unbothered by her spiked struggles, treating her reluctance like it was nothing but a minor inconvenience he could simply swat away like a fly. “I know you’ll like it, you just need to-”

“I don’t need to do anything!” She cried now, adorable small whines as she tried prying her hand out of his hold. “Get off me!”

“Kinda feels like you’re trying to piss me off here.” His tone darkened, and so did the look in his eyes, and though she was just short of bawling with the lump of hopelessness and fear caught stuck in her throat, the adrenaline gave her such a rush of confidence as her leg finally managed to shuffle under his, allowing her to knee him right in that swelled thick slug he was so transfixed on appeasing.

And though she managed briefly to slip out from beneath him, it was no victory, and she felt that ounce of triumph that fluttered in her heart snuff out at the feel of his brawny taunt and rock hard arms wrap around her torso, hoisting her off the ground, only to throw her right back where she’d been laying not moments ago.

“Please, Eijirou, please, you're scaring me, stop.” She kicked now, flopping beneath him like a fish hauled up on a boat, tried prying her hands out of his grasp yet couldn't stop him from holding her down, rolling her on her stomach while he pulled off his uniform necktie, bending her arms behind her back and tightening the noose around her wrists, pulling the tail between them to secure the knot tightly, before rolling her back with her hands being crushed beneath her.

Her face reappeared tear-slicked and panicked. “There we go, all pretty and perfect for me.” He lightly tapped her face as he stuffed her mouth with the panties he fished back up from his pockets, settling between her legs again as she whined through the make-shift gag.

Rough course hand, like sandpaper, like rock, slid down between her thighs, slowly in their venture, pushing and kneading into the softness, hungry as they groped and pushed her open, wrapped her around his torso so he could slap his rock-solid cock onto her vulnerable little opening.

“Let me paint a picture for you, Babe.” He started, catching her attention.

Her eyes so unbelievably wide as she looked up at him through the thick hazy ominous darkness of the room, a darkness that once seemed so cozy now so overwhelming, the sun having gone down, the TV turned to black, the lights left off and the only glimmer coming from the streetlights and the dim white glow of the moon shining in through her window, leaving Kirishima’s sharp teeth to hang above her and how they seemed to drip, eerie shadows cast upon his face, eyes red and hazy, drooped to slits, drunk and cocky as he continued rubbing his cockhead up through the lips of her pussy ever so causally, like she wasn’t bound and bawling beneath him.

“So listen up and listen carefully. Can you do that, Babe?”

She felt cold suddenly, chilled to her core by his tone, reduced to shivering beneath his confident touch, shuddering where she laid, chest pushed upward above the support her arms gave, head drawing in the dune of her pillow, thighs lifted to straddle her boyfriend’s waist, his hand keeping her there by curling his thumb into the underside of her knee.

“The way I see it, you have two options.” He leaned in, voice sturdy but soft like a straight-jacket. “Either you be my good girl and give me what’s mine.” Tone swooping low into a growl. “Or...”

His hands moved steadily as they began unbuttoning her shirt from the bottom up, planting a kiss on the newly exposed skin of her tummy, just short of her belly-button. The light scruff of his chin tickling the thin skin it rubbed against as he continued licking and nibbling on the flesh the more it was exposed to him.

“You run along to your friends, tell them what a bad bad guy I am. They ask for proof, but silly little you have no proof to give.” He chuckled, warm breath breezed on the peach-fuzz of her chest as he kept sucking his marks into her, hands fingering the last of her buttons. “People love me, Buttercup, so let me ask you this...” The crimson spikes of his hair stuck into the underside of her chin as he licked up her throat, kissed her jaw and bit at her earlobe, whispering. “Who’s side you think they gonna take?” Humming as he watched another fat tear run down her cheek. “You go to the teachers, they ask for proof, something you still don’t have because there is none. And even if they did believe you... no saying they’d do anything about it. I’m destined to be a billboard hero. Do you really think they’ll throw all that away on some ditz from general studies?” Question after question, answer after answer, each one another stab and twist of the rusty blade in her hope. “Think again.” With her shirt open she witnessed him morph his hand into sharp rock, a jagged finger burrowing beneath the bridge of her bra and cutting the thick fabric loose, now fully exposed to his mouthful of teeth and slobbering tongue. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how the world works, Sweetheart.”

She closed her eyes, clamped them shut, but it only helped her feel all his entitled actions even more, how he moved, rightfully, regardlessly, without regret or remorse. She swore she could feel him pulsating against her, his cock pumping against her swollen clit, where she could argue that the rip of him tearing apart her skirt was the loudest noise she’d ever heard in her life.

“And perhaps it ends there, but I know you. You continue, trying to make anyone believe you, eventually ending up in management for crazy obsessed fanatic fangirls -of which I have many- or you give up.” His mouth enclosed her nipple, tongue swirling around the bud, fingers tweaking the other breast with boyish greediness. “Either way, you end up missing. With no friends to bother coming to find you, thinking that your delusional ass offed yourself, when in reality...”

Large hand curling around her neck, squeezing as he rose to look down at her, rock his hips to allow his cock more friction, sliding up and down between her thighs, bobbing against her stomach, thrumming and spilling thick whiteness, dripping and smearing onto her skin.

“You’re right back here with me.”

Her heart skipped, seemed to stop, everything seemed to stop. His words hung poised, forgetting how to drop, like dust settling, lingering about the air as she looked up at him, thinking he looked like the onset of hell, like a demon, his hair like horns, his eyes like hellfire, and those teeth, those sharp unforgiving teeth.

“You see, if you don’t give, I will take.” He juggled her head with the tight grip he had on her jaw, playing with her as his other hand swept through her delicate sensitive folds, made her cringe, try and shimmy away, all to his disgusting amusement shown in the snaggletooth that hooked over his lip as he smirked a grim curled line. “And right now it looks to me like I might just have to show you just how defenseless you are to stop me.” His digits wiggled inside her, and she whined into her panties as she sucked on them, her eyes clinging to the dangerous heat simmering inside his. “Aww see? You’re already getting so wet. Your body sure knows who it belongs to, I’m sure you will too, very soon.”

#yandere eijiro kirishima #yandere kirishima #yandere eijiro #yandere eijirou #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere red riot #kirishima smut #yandere kirishima eijiro #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha kirishima #eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijirou kirishima imagine #eijirou x you #bnha eijirou #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere bnha

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orange-waterfalls · 3 years

Text

I Call This One: Bold & Brash!

The egos x artist! gn! reader

ty @pokemonpunqueen for the request!

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m gonna write for the egos when I can’t think of anything else or I need practice writing lmao. I mean I was doing that before? But I didn’t know it? listen it’s fine it’ll be fine but FOR NOW I thiiiink I’m gonna take requests. Just a few. I’ll stop when I think it gets too much. This is exactly what it says. I focused on like drawing/painting for “artist”, with some references to animation thrown in there. I did Darkiplier, Wilford, Yancy, Illinois, Google, Eric, and a Host thrown in there bc I love him and I miss him

Word count is 1.5k

Enjoy

Egos x artist!reader

Darkiplier

He’ll want to commission art from you

He makes comments about how Mark is a narcissist but also he’s a narcissist.

Oh look, Dark’s asking you for another picture. What does he want? He wants you to draw him? Again? For the fifth time this fucking month? Wonderful.

He likes looking at how you make art of him, be it stylistic or realistic

He will hang them up all over the fucking house so pace yourself

He’s fine if you draw anybody else

Except Mark. Never Mark. How can he tell, you ask? No fucking clue, but he does

Gets a bit worried that you won’t make enough money to live comfortably

Just because not everyone needs a fucking MANSION-

Will always buy things for you if you ask

Likes to be able to support your job or hobby

Sugar daddy? I mean maybe

Makes sure you eat, sleep, drink water, survive--

Leaves snacks for you at your desk for when you don’t want a meal.

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep at a desk

Recommends you wear comfy clothes at all times so you can fall asleep wherever

A bit of an enabler, he’s doing his best tho

If you take commissions don’t be surprised if he threatens to kill someone when they don’t pay or are rude to you

He loves you, that’s all

Wilford

Fucking elated

Draw him!!! Please!!!! Please draw him!!!!! He has coin!!!!! He can pay!!!!!

Ecstatic if you actually draw him like he’ll giggle for an hour straight just looking

Secretly commissions more art from you

So also sugar daddy

It’s always something so obvious so you know it’s him anyways

He likes bright colors and eyestrain for some reason

If you make that, he just. Stares at it. Unblinking. You have to snap him out of it (im not projecting what do you mean)

Gets extremely worried about you not taking care of yourself

Gets someone to fucking babysit you when he’s gone so you take care of yourself

When you get greatly offended by this he settles for texting you reminders

And when you ignore those he texts more

Don’t be surprised if you get spammed by several people and an alarm starts to play from somewhere in the house

You’re gonna be healthy whether you like it or not, asshole

Drags you to bed aggressively

He WILL NOT drug your food with melatonin because that’s illegal. B U T-

He’s a little confused, but he got the spirit

Will advertise your art to anyone and everyone and also on his show and threatens the audience with a gun

AGAIN, a little confused. he just wuvs u so much

Yancy

I mean technically he’s kind of an artist too so he appreciates your skill and creativity

He’s very nosy and likes to look over your shoulder while you work

If you don’t like him doing that, he still does it, just more secretively

Likes to work in the same room as you.

That is if you don’t mind constant singing or tap dancing in the background

He shows off your art to anyone and everyone and gets mad if they don’t immediately say it’s fantastic

May or may not have stabbed someone over it, you’ll never know

If you show him something you’re working on, he’ll show you something he’s working on in return

The law of equivalent exchange

You tell him you can make MONEY from things like art and dancing and he goes apeshit he gets so fucking excited

If you’re like an animator and offer to animate his dancing he might actually cry

He’ll deny it constantly every day until he dies

If you make things traditionally he hangs them on the wall Everywhere

You might run out of room

By which i mean you will run out of room as soon as possible

Will never tell you a drawing is bad ever unless it’s like Really Bad which it never will be in his eyes

He loves anything and everything you do u are so precious

You have a permanent support system within the man

Google

Used to see art as pointless

Then comprehended the chemical release it causes in the brain and thought that was fine

Then saw you get really mad with something you were working on and got confused again?

If art no make good chemical, why art?

He still doesn’t understand, but that’s ok

You tried to get him to make something once

He just. Kinda. Made a buncha ones and zeroes

You still framed it and hung in on the wall and he got embarrassed

If he could blush, he would

If you draw him he looks like he doesn’t care but it’s at that point he decides he would die for you

Primary objective: answer questions as quickly as possible. Secondary objective: make u happy. Tertiary objective is to destroy mankind

If you draw bing that will disappear IMMEDIATELY you have BETRAYED him

If you ask for a color palette recommendation he Always says the google colors. Always.

You might’ve thought he was going for an rgby type of thing. But then you realize.

He is in charge of your financing. He will tell you the most efficient ways to make money as an artist and you follow then

He is also in charge of making sure you FUCKING EAT A MEAL

“But isn’t an objective to destroy mankind?” shut up he’s not happy about it either

Despite his best efforts he loves you and that ain’t gonna change

Illinois

Doesn’t fully understand

He needs to be outside at all times and cannot stay in one place

And you’re like??? Required to stay still???? For prolonged amounts of time????? Disgusting. Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?

He might ask you to try and teach him

If you do try he gives up almost immediately

Sometimes you just get so into it that you forget to do basic things and he gets upset

(i.e. eating, sleeping, living, etc.)

He gets worried about you

He is a hypocrite bc he does the same

He will drag you to bed, motherfucker

Honestly he might lock your shit somewhere until you fucking take care of yourself. it’s like a hostage situation god

“Where the fuck did you put it” “I have no clue what you mean. I might know if you eat your dinner, though”

Asshole (affectionate)

Sometimes you like make faces when you try to draw a person and it’s hilarious and cute to him

He looks at your drawings the moment you walk away but acts like he doesn’t care

He cares a lot

Will support you no matter what but will also tell you without hesitation if he thinks something looks shit

Listen he’s out of line but he’s right

Eric

Loves you a lot and will support anything and everything you choose to do or make

Drawing? Awesome! Painting? Wonderful! Animation? Superb!

He often wants to buy you supplies or something but he does not know what anything is

Fuck is a chalk pencil???? What are gel pens vs normal pens?????? Watercolor????? What the fuck are you saying??????????

Will subtly drop hints that you could,,,, draw him,,,,, maybe,,,,, if u wanna

And by subtly I mean he starts to ask and then starts crying

If you draw him he will cry again he loves u so much

If he ever were to get a tattoo it’d be something u drew. Nothing else is as important to him at the moment

He enjoys photography and film, and likes to try and bond with you over artistic things

I mean. Some things overlap.

You could talk about a single drawing for hours and he’d listen intently the whole time

Don’t ask him for feedback, it’s always some version of “it’s perfect and I love you”

Even if he hates it

Which,,,,, he might hate it sometimes

He’s not a good reviewer. 2/10, very biased

He likes to take photos when you’re in the zone

If you tell him to delete them he will

While secretly making one his home screen

Host

Hey, he gets it

He writes, he understands the hyperfocus

Sometimes he wouldn’t move from his chair for a day because he was busy writing a script

That being said, you probably have to be the one to get him to take care of himself

Or you have to take turns

Otherwise you’re both gonna fucking die

He asks you to describe your art to him and tries to picture it.

He’ll tell you if he thinks it probably looks good or bad

You shouldn’t take it to heart because he can’t see it

He is a bastard sometimes

“Well, what do you think?” “I think it looks fantastic” “Thanks, babe” “...” “... you think you’re fucking funny, don’t you”

He asks if you can draw him sometimes

No, he won’t see it, but he’ll appreciate the sentiment if you do

He will ask for your opinion on his scripts sometimes

If you say it’s bad he gets really defensive

You work in the same room a lot of the time and forget the other is there

One of you has to preemptively order food or like set a timer so you can goddamn Survive

You’ll be fine

#markiplier egos x reader #darkiplier x reader #wilford warfstache x reader #yancy x reader #illinois x reader #googleplier x reader #eric derekson x reader #eric derickson x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #darkiplier x gn reader #wilford x reader #wilford warfstache x gn reader #yancy x gn reader #illinois x gn reader #googleplier x gn reader #eric derekson x gn reader #i'll be honest i only thought about this bc i saw mark's fucking VIDEO on tiktok and got kind of excited

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otptings · 3 years

Text

Insomnia

-Idol ~ Kun

-Genre ~ Sick Fic, Smut, Fluff

-Warnings ~ insomnia, lack of appetite & weight loss, pillow princess by force, oral (f receiving), passionate fucking, dry humping? (she's half naked but he's fully dressed), daddy kink, rough sex, choking, degradation,

-Word Count ~ 2.9k+

-Synopsis ~ Sleeping never comes easy to. You've tried everything from exercising, to warm milk. Maybe the one thing you've been missing is some late night loving?

-A/n ~ loosely inspired by sky Insomnia, the rose insomnia, and dreamcatcher sleep-walking. best to listen to any of those songs as you read it, might help set the mood even though those are all break up songs lmfao. I also have my ko-fi link in my bio help raise more money to help me buy essentials for my emotional support animal, I cannot work at the minute because of my treatment for type 1 bipolar disorder, and door dash doesn't allow me to save up abundantly enough, if you could even only share it I would greatly appreciate it. anyway hope you enjoy this and thank you for reading

Sleep and you have always had a complicated relationship. Fighting sleep as a kid, climbing out of your bed after your parents tucked you in, playing with your toys until you passed out among us. At sleepovers you were always the one who stayed up all night, too excited to actually get tired.

As a teenager spending nights before school desperately trying to finish homework, staying up until the early morning hours, quickly taking a shower before running to the bus. If you had no assignments your crush at the time would distract you, joking and blushing until it was time to leave for school, bags under your eyes prominent, but the loss of sleep was worth it.

Now the only thing you wanted was to sleep.

Insomnia took over your life. Staying up sometimes days at a time, struggling to calm your racing thoughts that were determined to keep you up at night. They won most nights. Laying in your bed, struggling to get comfortable or staring up at the ceiling, willing sleep to overtake you. Even with the medication from the doctor you struggled to get more than 3 hours a night.

You tried other remedies too. Drinking warm milk with cinnamon and vanilla, the warm concoction soothing but never tiring you out. Exercising before bed that truly made you feel amazing but never worked to tire you out, only forcing you to feel the soreness in your body as you laid in bed. No electronics before bed helped you finish multiple books series that you had wanted to start but never had time for, but didn't work.

Everything you tried was in vain. Sleep continued to evade you, and it only took a higher toll on your physical body.

Your appetite started to lessen, your weight slowly declined. The bags under your eyes only got deeper and darker. Concerns about your physical state came form your friends, their worries growing as you continued to get worst and worst. It came to a peak when you almost passed out at an outing, shaky from the constant stream of caffeine that you were consuming in order to function properly, your eyes fluttering close as you collapsed into their arms. Concern was properly covering their face, and they rushed you to the hospital, you were too weak to even try and decline them.

At the hospital they gave you strict instructions to stay home and rest, with someone watching you over to make sure that you were properly taken care of. Along with instructions you got even stronger medication, 20 mgs stronger than what you were currently taking.

Kun being the thoughtful person he is offered to watch you while you were on bedrest. He was the best candidate out of your friends, the others practically pushing you to accept him.

Kun has been the best assistant? nurse? friend that you could ask for. Constantly at your beck and call making sure that you were drinking plenty of water, cooking you fresh homemade meals, and making sure your medication was taken on time. Along with that he also did the awkward task of helping you to the bathroom, since you were still shaky and weak at times.

He did this all without complaint, catering to you everyday and making sure that you were cared for. Sometimes when he wasn't busy with his own work he would sit and watch a drama with you, or just engage in conversation telling you about his day, and the funny things he did and heard.

Having him helping you 24/7 for 2 weeks straight, had caused some unwelcome feelings. Your friends weren't surprised at that, having been part of the reason why they suggested he did it, knowing your past feelings for him. With only a week left of your bedrest you were saddened at the thought that he was leaving, going back to only talking to him once or twice a week whenever the friend group hung out.

Kun had actually been the one who surprised you. Seeing that you were still up one night, thoughts of him running through your mind when he entered your room. Upon seeing you awake he sat on your bed, holding your hand as you asked what's up. You weren't truthful. Who would be truthful in that scenario? 'Hey actually I was up thinking about my crush on you and the desire that I constantly have to kiss you."

You were positive that wouldn't have gone through well.

Kun rubbed your hand soothingly, listening patiently to you as you lied about what you were thinking about, fake worries and complaints about going back to work. Offering you advice was always Kun's strong suit so you were ready for some good advice despite your lies.

That's what got you in this peculiar position.

Lip tucked tightly between your teeth, the taste of copper on your tongue. One hand grasping at the pillow behind you squeezing it tightly between your fingers, the other intertwined with dark blue hair as you tried not to pull too hard.

Kun thought the best thing to clear your mind was sex, and who were you to deny his generous offer.

You felt your hips jerking as tongue pressed his tongue against your hole, shallowly fucking into you. His free hand rubbed up your thigh, the sensation combining with him eating you out causing your mind to start to go blurry. His hand continued to glide up, before pressing down on your hips, forcing them down on the bed.

Without the ability to move you could only lie there as he continued to tongue fuck you. The fire in your stomach increasing, and Kun seemed to know it as he kissed your clit before sucking on it aggressively, causing your first orgasm to rip through your body.

Kun continued his ministrations, licking up your cum causing the fire to come back threefold. Kun sucked on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as you wriggled from the sensitivity. He seemed to be made for this, the way his tongue knew the perfect ways to fuck you open, and he hadn't even involved his fingers or cock yet.

Pulling away from your cunt you saw your juices covering Kun's mouth leaking down his chin. His hair was sticking every which way how you were messing, and pulling on it. Kun looked like all of your wet dreams had happened to come through.

"So pretty." A laugh let his mouth, a smiling spreading over his lips.

"Wish you could see yourself," Kun slid his hand up and down your thigh, rubbing it soothingly, "You're gorgeous. I've been wanting to do this for so long."

Kun changed the positions so that you were on top, straddling his thighs. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans, rubbing over your oversensitive clit in the best way possible. A whimper left your mouth as you started to rock on him, but Kun stilled your hips. His hand slid to your chin, rubbing his thumb along the side of your jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" You didn't bother answering, meeting him halfway. His chapped lips moved against your own as if you've done it before, there was a familiarity to it that made you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him flush against your chest. Sliding his hands up and down your body, lips moving in sync against yours. You nipped at his lip, causing a loud groan to leave his mouth as he opened it for you. Sliding your tongue into his mouth you reveled in the feeling of him taking dominance. His hands gripping your ass tightly, his tongue roughly dancing with yours.

You pulled away, placing your hips on his shoulders as you continued to grind against him. Another groan leaving his mouth as he moved you against him, forcing you to press down harder and faster against him.

"God baby." He leaned back as he looked at you, admiring the way you moved against him, needy and wanting to cum again. "You're so need baby. Who's got you like this hm?" You dropped your head back, continuing to rock your hips against his. Kun felt his cock twitching in his pants at the sight, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you close to him, placing kisses along your neck and collarbones.

"Kun I need you." You tried to sound strict but it came breathy, a moan following it as he kisses over your jugular, nipping at it before listening to your 'command'. Flipping you over he gave you a peck, before pulling away to take off his clothes. You decided to join him stripping out of your shirt and throwing it across the room.

Kun crawled back over you, but he stopped just taking the time to stare at you.

"I need to say this before. I'm not just fucking you because of your insomnia, I'm not just fucking you to fuck you." Kun intertwined your fingers, "I really like you. I don't want this to just not mean anything to you, when I really like you. Even thought we're doing this backward I hope you can at least think of going on a date with me." You felt your face heat up, and the familiar feeling of fluttering in your stomach at his confession. Placing your hand on his cheek you leaned up, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"I like you too Kun. More than I can put words to." A big smile spread across his face as he leaned down, showering your face with kisses. "But if you don't put your dick in me right now, you might not ever get that date." A laugh left his mouth as he placed one last kiss against your check, before grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it up and down your cunt. Collecting some of your juices over his tips he looked down as he pressed into you, muttering a fuck at the sight of you taking him in so well. You threw your head back feeling the fuzziness come back, feeling how well he slid into you.

When Kun bottomed out he placed your still intertwined hands on the pillow beside you, his other hand sliding back to your hip.

"Fuck you feel so good." He growled as he waited for you to adjust, feeling your tight walls practically sucking him in.

"Please move. Please I need you." Kun placed a gentle kiss on your pouty lips before pulling. Thrusting back into you he set a slow pace, being gentle with you not forgetting that you were still on bed rest. Your other arm wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer to him. Feeling skin against skin as he continued to slowly fuck you, enjoying the feeling of him being close to you.

It was more intimate than it should've been, being the first time that you two were having sex but with Kun it felt right. This was more love making than casual fucking and you wouldn't have it any other way. The coil in your stomach started to tighten, Kun's groans helping greatly to push you towards the edge, but the pace he had set wasn't doing it for you.

"Kun." He slowed down, hearing the desperation in your voice and not wanting to hurt you.

"Yes baby? Am I hurting you?" You could hear the slight panic in his voice and shook your head, before meeting his eyes.

"Faster please. I need you rougher." Kun pushed your hair back, before cupping your cheek.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you, you were just hospitalized."

"Please fuck me harder. I need you to ruin me daddy." At your words Kun's eyes darkened and without warning he thrust into you hard, causing a punched out moan to leave your mouth.

The mood changed just the way you needed it to, instead of being slow love sex Kun was fucking you. Hips meeting during every perfectly timed thrust, hitting deep within you as the sound of his balls smacking against your ass filled the room. He let go of your hand, instead opting to grab your waist and pulled you to meet him halfway on every thrust.

Ceaseless moans leaving your lips at the feeling of him fucking into you so beautifully, filling every inch of you. Opening your eyes that hadn't even realized had closed you were met by the sight of Kun, sweat glistening over his abs and dripping down his face. His hair plastered to his forehead, as he bit his lip harshly trying to hold back his groans. Your neighbors should really thank him for having some self control.

Kun slowed down as he lifted your legs up, pushing them towards your chest, folding you in half as he continued his rough pace. This new position causing you to feel him in your chest, the feeling of fullness completely overtaking you as you orgasmed for the second time. He fucked you through your orgasm, the tingly feeling spreading towards your hips as overstimulation set in. Even though his cock was dragging against your walls beautifully, blunt tip pressing into your g spot it started to get painful.

The feeling of it being too much, but not enough at the same time. Tears welling up in your eyes, as Kun pressed against your legs pushing them back further and forcing his cock impossibly deeper.

"F-fuck daddy please." You didn't even know what you were begging for anyway, him effectively fucking you dumb, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to the point where you knew you'd have bruises the next day.

"So tight around me, your pussy is sucking me in even after two orgasms? What's wrong baby? Two isn't enough, you need me to milk another one out of you?" You couldn't respond to him, only listened to him as he spoke, groans leaving his mouth harmonizing with your moans almost.

"Poor baby is fucked dumb," A cruel laugh left his mouth as he stuffed two fingers into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers, twirling your tongue around them. "Can't even speak, only babble and suck on my fingers huh? Lucky you're so cute. You liked being called dumb huh? Can feel the way you're pussy clenched around me? Must be close again." You could only let out a muted moan, Kun's fingers still pressed against your tongue, gagging you effectively.

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth he slid his hand around your throat, tapping his too soaked fingers on the side of your neck.

"So close baby. So. fucking. close." Punctuating his words with an extra hard thrust in between you had lost the ability to think, his hand gently around your neck, more like an accessory but just at the thought of him choking you felt yourself drooling, his thrusts still reaching that spot inside of you that was so deep it'd never been touched before.

As if hearing your thoughts, Kun's hand tightened around your throat, pressing you against the mattress. You came at that moment, Kun's tip hitting your g spot perfectly. Your eyes rolled back as you felt like you had exploded, all of your energy draining out of you with your third orgasm of the night.

At the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly, practically holding you in place Kun pulled out and quickly jerked himself off, cumming over your lower stomach. Kun marveled at the sight of you laid out below him, lips swollen from biting them, hair frizzy from rubbing against the pillow, his white cum painting your stomach, a light red mark around your neck from his hand.

Kun let you sit for a couple minutes before carrying you to the bathroom for a well needed shower. Setting you on the toilet, he let you pee while he started the warm. When you were finished and the water was warm enough Kun helped you into the shower, letting you lean against him as he started to clean the cum from your body.

"Are you okay?" You looked up at Kun, basking in the feeling of the warm water running down your body as Kun rubbed the soapy loofa over your body.

"Never felt better." A crooked smile spread across your face, too tired to even continue the conversation. Kun kissed you on your temple , seemingly sensing it and helped you rinse out. After getting you redressed and back into your bed with clean sheets, Kun went to go to the living room until you grabbed his arm.

"Can you stay?" Even after having sex Kun was still nervous to sleep in the bed with you, but he obliged hearing your soft, sleepy voice. Climbing into bed with you he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you." Kun hummed, the vibration spreading through his chest and making you giggle.

"For?"

"Taking care of me." Kun placed another kiss on your head.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to care for you. Now get some sleep." Cuddling further into Kun, the beat of his heart along with the rise and fall of his chest lulled you to sleep.

For the first time in years, you slept like a baby.

#kpopcatalog #wayv #nct #wayv kun #wayv qian kun #nct qian kun #qian kun #Kpop smut #kpop fluff #sick fic #nct smut #wayv smut #wayv fluff #nct fluff

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dynyamight · 3 years

Note

#116 bkdk please 🥰

send me a writting ask

116. “I’m right here.”

Nightmares. Midoriya feels embarrassed to even admit he still has them.

Ochako had told him that was perfectly normal. “Heroes aren’t high and almighty, Deku. We struggle, cry, and experience loss. Why wouldn’t we have nightmares, either?”

“I have nightmares too, Midoriya-san.” Iida had confessed to him, “But, they don’t make us weak. They fuel us to stay strong and brave.”

Todoroki felt the most convincing to Midoriya. “I have them. Almost every other night.”

“Oh.” Midoriya barely voiced, feeling a little intrusive. He adjusted his phone in his hand, trying to dispel the stiff air he felt in the call.

“Yeah.” On Todoroki’s end, Midoriya heard a bit of shuffling. “If you feel like you’re the only person in the world who deals with the worst of them, you’re not. I’m there with you.”

“Do you know anything to make them disappear?”

“If I did, don’t you think I would have stopped having them?”

“Sorry. You’re completely right.” Midoriya sighed, long and defeated. “I just hate bothering people with these calls.”

“There’s nothing wrong with calling me.” Todoroki offered softly. “I get it. It also helps me to talk it out with someone, too.”

Midoriya hummed, left feeling disappointed in his gut. He knows Todoroki, as well as the rest of his closest friends, are willing to deal with his phone calls. But, he wants them to stop. The nightmares.

They always leave him in a cold sweat, gasping for air. No matter how strong he got, no matter how many villains he took down, or how much the public adornes him with glory and applause, the nightmares break him.

They belittle him. They mock him. They dare him with the deaths of his loved ones. They taunt him with deaths of his own. They curse him with images of not saving enough, or saving no one at all.

All for One. He continues to haunt him, the moment he closes his eyes and falls in a slumber. And, it leaves Midoriya frustratingly holding back tears, wanting him to leave his essence.

And, tonight was another one of those nights. Padding down barefoot, Midoriya walks out of his bedroom and into the living space. There’s a damp towel around his neck, soaking the sweat he built up from his recent nightmare.

In his hands, his cell phone was held tight.

He doesn’t want to call Todoroki, or Ochako, or Iida. He doesn’t want to stress out his mother any more than she needs to. All Might deserves a peaceful night of his own, free from Midoriya’s rambles. And, Midoriya simply didn’t feel comfortable enough to talk with anyone else.

Except, maybe there was one. Midoriya groans, slumping down on his couch.

He looks down at the phone in his hands, its screen glowing. There was a contact name blaring at him back, beckoning him to press the call button.

Midoriya hates the way his exhausted mind easily talks to him into pressing it. He hates the way he puts the phone to his ear, as if he hopes the call is picked up. He hates the way his heart beats frantically in his chest, wanting to hear that familiar voice.

Midoriya hopes his call is ignored.

“Who the fuck is this?”

His voice gets caught in his throat. Midoriya feels the burning of embarrassment suddenly engulf him, like a wildfire.

Bakugou never looks at the contact name, before answering any calls, Midoriya knows. And, he knows that if he were to say anything, Bakugou would know it’s him.

But, he can’t even breathe right now. He immediately regrets everything. Bakugou could be working, patrolling. Bakugou could have been sleeping. Bakugou could have been enjoying time by himself. Or with others.

God, he could be with people right now, and Midoriya’s wanting to talk about his nightmares. How embarrassing. How weak of him.

“Hello?” Bakugou’s voice echoes. “Hello?”

Midoriya chokes, tears falling down his cheeks. “S-Sorry.”

He hangs up.

And, just as fast as he ends the call, his phone is ringing.

It’s almost laughable. If it wasn’t for the brittle heart he had currently, Midoriya would have been smiling at the way Bakugou was urgently calling back. But, instead, he felt terrible, making Bakugou stressed.

Tentatively, Midoriya answers the call, quickly wiping his tears. “K-Kacchan—”

“Where are you? Now.” Bakugou’s concern booms.

Midoriya shakes his head. “I’m home. Safe.”

“You hurt?”

“N-No. I’m okay.”

There’s a moment of silence on Bakugou’s end. “..The fuck you crying about?” He suddenly asks, bluntly.

“It’s—” Midoriya groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s nothing.”

“Hell, it’s nothing.” Bakugou scoffs, “You fucking called me during my shift.”

Of course he did. “You should go back, then.”

“Nah, I got it covered. ‘Sides, it ain’t eventful, tonight.”

“You need to go back to work, Kacchan. It’s important.” Midoriya chastises.

“Yeah, well, so are you.”

That prickles some tears. Sniffing, Midoriya furiously rubs his eyes, frantically trying to keep them dry. The stuffiness in his nose returns, making his voice sound muffled. “I had a nightmare. That’s all.”

“You used to have shitty nightmares, when we were younger.”

“I never outgrew them.” Midoriya admits, quietly.

“Hm.” There’s a bit of wind resounding in Bakugou’s end. “Did they get worse?”

“..They have.”

“Why haven’t you told me.”

Shrugging against the phone, Midoriya curls himself into a ball. “I thought you wouldn’t want to hear about them. They are a bit bothersome, even for me.”

“I wouldn’t—” Bakugou ceases, sighing. “Then, tell me. What was it about? This one.”

Reimagining his nightmares was always hard. Midoriya remembers the faces of the people in his dreams, and the sensations he feels afterwards. But, he cannot seem to recall the story of them, the events in order.

But, for this particular nightmare, there wasn’t any bizarre plotline to understand.

“You.” Midoriya confesses. “You were in it. And, All for One had taken you, in his hands. And, right when I was so close to reaching you, he— you were gone.”

“Lame.”

Sputtering, Midoriya is utterly baffled. “That’s—!”

“What the hell, Deku. You should have known that I ain’t dying anytime soon.” Bakugou huffs irritated, “Especially not from that damn old man. People would call for elder abuse, from how I could beat his ass.”

He shouldn’t laugh, but Midoriya can’t help it. He smiles, staring up at his ceiling. “I knew you would say something like that.”

“Is that why you called?” Bakugou inqueries, “So, you could hear me say that.”

“..Yeah.” Midoriya nods. He brings a hand to his curls, running them through. “I needed to hear you say that.”

“You planning to go back to sleep?”

“You’ve never asked these many questions before, Kacchan.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Midoriya exhales a defeated breath, laying his head back on the couch. “No. I wasn’t.”

“You fucking should.” Bakugou tsk’s. Midoriya can imagine him shaking his head in disapproval.

“If I do, the nightmares will come back.” He states weakly, and his shoulders tighten. “I-I can’t. I don’t want to see you fall again.”

“..Stay on the line.”

Midoriya doesn’t know what to expect, as he stayed waiting. A couple seconds became a few minutes, and then those minutes became at least fifteen minutes of no response.

He’s about to hang up, thinking Bakugou had to go back to combat, until he hears loud rummaging.

“You there?” Bakugou voices.

He nods. But then, Midoriya remembers that Bakugou can’t see him. “Y-Yeah. I am.” He hurriedly states.

“Good.”

There’s a lot more movement and noise sounding off on Bakugou’s end; clinking of metal, heavy footsteps, car horns, beeping of sorts.

“I put you on my bluetooth.” Bakugou mentions it easily.

“N-No! Don’t do that, Kacchan!” Midoriya frantically insists, sitting up fully in his seat.

“I need to do my fucking job, idiot.”

“Then, hang up!”

“Yeah, but you need me.”

Midoriya stills. Despite his pleas to leave, his heart soars achingly, appreciating Bakugou’s efforts towards him. It causes a surge of tears, threatening to fall. “I-I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re exhausting, Deku.” Bakugou groans, “If you were, I would have hung up by now.”

“What are you even planning for us to do, then?”

“Fucking easy.” Bakugou huffs confidently, “Keep your phone to your ears.”

“Keep my phone?”

“So, when you fall asleep, you can still continue hearing me alive.” Bakugou states, “Hear me talk, walk, breathe. Maybe, in your shit dreams, I’ll be alive there, too.”

Midoriya smiles, his vision blurring. “I wish you were here.” He confesses.

“I’m right here.” Bakugou firmly states, his voice resounding deep in Midoriya’s fragile, weakened core. “Just don’t fucking hang up, and I’ll be here.”

And, Midoriya doesn’t. He listens quietly to Bakugou flying around his city, the booming of his explosives reaching his call. And, he hears all the conversations Bakugou has with people; his sidekicks, the bypassing citizens, his fellow fans.

Midoriya overhears Bakugou mentioning to someone that yes, he was on a call, and no, it wasn’t their business who. “It’s someone I would fucking fight for. There. Happy now?” Bakugou relents, finally.

Midoriya wants to laugh, but instead, he feels his body light and sleepy. Resting flat on the couch, he brings a pillow to his chest, and allows himself to close his eyes.

The last thing he hears from Bakugou is a small, short whisper. “Let me fight those nightmares, Deku.”

His dreams consist of Bakugou beating up All for One with ease.

#star responds #another airplane ficlet !!! for my bestie !!#why do they consist of sleeping?? bwewjk i think i was missing my bed #but yes !! nightmare prone! deku with his reliable kacchan #i luv the idea that bakugou would totally hook midoriya up on bluetooth #& if anyone asks. he brushes them off. 'it's important'#hope you like it !!!!#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #dekubaku #dkbk #bakugou-klancey-lance #my beloved #FICLET

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a-valorant-effort · 3 years

Text

Slowly

Octane x Fem!Reader NSFT

My first Apex legends fic! Hope you like it!

There’s one thing Octavio has known all his life and that variable never seemed to change. Slow = boring, and he hated being bored. School was slow, good grades never came to him naturally because of his inability to sit still. Sleep is slow, Octavio never truly finding himself able to be lulled to sleep until he physically cannot stand anymore and opts to crash and burn. Even relationships were slow, having to get to know someone over a period of time before being able to enjoy their presence. The only reason he warmed up to Ajay was because they were practically forced to be friends.

And yet... here he was... frozen.

You were something Octavio, objectively, would HATE. You lived your life one step at a time. As a legend, you chose to have strategical and thought out approaches rather than going in guns blazing. As a person, you took the time to sit down and get to know almost all of the legends, ranging from Mirage’s flirtatious remarks to Caustics long and stale talk about respiratory diseases and their affect on the human lifespan.

What an awful way to live, Octavio thought.

That is... until he was the one you took the time to get to know. One thing Octavio noticed about you is that you could keep up. No matter the distance, you would always be by his side or at a close second. He didn’t expect this, but the dynamic of a methodical planner and a hyperactive stuntman made a pretty good team. He grew fond of the way you could understand him to a level that Octavio didn’t think anyone else could. You were his rock, the sponge to soak up all the water, the one he could share his mind with without having to worry about scaring you off or going too fast. Because, when Octavio thought about it, you made him slow down and get to know you. Weird how that works.

So here you are, laying beneath him, nothing but your bra and underwear on, staring straight at Octavio with a lustful expression. Octavio hung above you with his arms propping himself up by the sides of your head. His heart was practically about to run a lap around his body and jump out of his throat. He couldn’t stop looking at your eyes, the way they pleaded and begged for something that he knew you were too afraid to ask.

Please, go slowly.

Octavio shifted his weight to one arm, leaving the free one to trail down your body and stop over your clothed clit and start palming it gently. The sound that came from your lips was downright sinful. He could feel your legs slightly squirm underneath him as he pulled the panties down and off of you. Sitting up now, he held your hips in place, and looked up at you.

“Is this ok?”

You’re face turned redder, if that was even possible, the blush reaching the tips of your ears now. You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut, expecting Octavio to leap on you like you were a canary in a cat’s bed. Octavio, however, gently lowered his tongue between the folds and brushed slow, steady circles around your clit. Your thighs shook and found their place around Octavio‘s neck, where he gently rubbed his hands along the sides of. He felt like he was in a trance, but not in a bad way. Octavio is a fast paced human, eager to get things done as soon as he starts them, but he could be tucked in between your thighs forever and never complain once. His pace never changed, the steady circles with the up and down motion while listening to your sweet moans made it all ok.

“Ah, T-Tavi please.” He looked up at your blissed out expression and thought that he had died, face to face with an angel. Your mouth was slightly agape, pupils of your eyes blown wide, and a dusted pink spread across your cheeks. God, he was fucked wasn’t he?

Octavio did something out of character. He didn’t increase his pace, he didn’t chase your high like he oh so desperately chased his during the games. He didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t want to stop hearing you mewl and cry at each differing movement. He would edge you out as long as he could.

“P-Please Tavi, I- I’m so—,” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. Octavio flicked his tongue up and you gushed around him, a moaning mess. He worked his tongue through your orgasm as you carded your fingers through his dark hair. Eventually, he stopped, and pulled himself up where his chin rested on your chest.

“How do you feel, mi alma?” You smiled at the pet name, and held Octavio’s face in between your hands, gingerly stroking his cheeks.

“Good.” Your voice was barley a whisper, and Octavio leaned up to kiss you, his clothed erection rubbing on your sensitive clit. You moaned into his kiss, and Octavio felt his world shake. He wanted so much more. His arms snaked behind you and un clipped your bra. Instinctively, your arms flung around your torso, trying to cover yourself as much as possible.

“Tan tímida, mi alma. ¿Por qué te escondes de mí? Eres hermosa.” You couldn’t understand, but you didn’t need to, Octavio pulled your arms to his neck and slid the thin straps off of your shoulders. He stared. You were as perfect as he envisioned you. He leaned in to kiss you and, in this moment, both of your hearts were thumping out of control.

You were getting restless, he could tell. You pulled at the waistband of his boxers, attempting to slide them off of him. Octavio understood, picking himself up so you could slide them off with ease. His erection sprung out, dripping little drops of precum on your stomach. He lined up, and looked you in the eye.

“You tell me it’s too much and I’ll stop, I promise. Okay? I’ll stop. I won’t get mad or upset with you, I want you to be happy. This is all for you. I would never hurt you. I know I do stupid shit a lot of the time but I would never ever—,”

You stopped his rambling by giving him a kiss, and, Octavio pushed himself up into you. You cried out in his mouth, he eased you into it by running his hands along your chest. “Ay dío...” Once Octavio was all the way in, he could feel you squeezing and pulsing around him. So needy. He wouldn’t last long, so he was going to drag this out as much as he could.

Giving you a second to adjust, Octavio slowly pumped himself in and out. Trying to keep himself steady even though his limbs felt like jelly. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. A wet, hot, moaning mess, your hands came to his hair and held them tightly.

“Mi tesoro, mi vida, mi todo.” Octavio whispered into your neck, softly nibbling at the spots that made you whine. “Detendría el mundo por ti.” He thrusted again, and hit a soft spot of flesh in you. “Fuck! There?”

You nodded frantically, holding onto him like it was the last thing you would ever do. The moans and cries never ceasing. God, your whole apartment complex could probably hear you. Who cares, you look so good to him, so fragile and precious.

“Dios, fuck.” Octavio rose a hand to play with your nipples. “Do you like it?”

You nodded your head again, but Octavio wasn’t satisfied.

“Por favor amour, I... fuck, I-I need to hear you say it. Say something, ngh— anything.”

You could barley form a sentence, babbling and moaning, but you pulled yourself up to his ear and spoke.

“Please.” A whisper, but still a request.

“Por favor? What? What do you want? Anything. Anything at all.” Octavio’s words were frantic.

“Please, Tavi. Tavi please please please.” The word sounded unnatural at this point.

“Tus palabras, mi amour. Your words.”

“Faster, oh god, faster. Please. Tavi faster.” You turned away from him, embarrassed at the request.

It’s like he was just jammed with his stim. There was no high like this one, no high like you. Octavio pulled himself almost all the way out, the tip being the only thing still inside, and then mercilessly slamming back into you, quickening his pace. He could feel you move underneath him, your hips sliding back and forth as if you were moving with him.

You would always keep up, wouldn’t you?

“Ah, yes! Feels good. Mmmh, god, fuck.” Your hands cupped Octavio’s face, trying to keep yourself steady. You were hungry, chasing your high. One of your hands came to your chest to play with your own breasts. Octavio noticed, and brought one of his hands to the bud of your clit and started rubbing fast. You were almost screaming. “I can’t— I’m so— I-,”

You came, hard, squeezing the flesh of Octavio’s dick with your own. A small squirt came from you and sprayed against Octavio’s abdomen. He worked himself through your orgasm, watching every expression on your face as your body tried to understand how to feel, or what to do. In a fit of bliss, you cried out for him.

“My Tavi...”

Octavio groaned. He grabbed your hips and held them in place as he reached his high. He half hoped it didn’t hurt you, but also half hoped it would leave a mark. His cum nestling inside of you, everything Octavio could possibly think about was just you.

He pulled out, after so long of just panting and staring. Octavio collapsed on the bed beside you, and curled himself around your body.

“Are you okay?” Octavio traced the curve of your hips, trying to feel out a bruise.

You laughed. “Better than okay.” Flipping over and meeting his eyes, you cupped his face and gave him a passionate kiss. “You’re too good to me Octavio.”

Octavio laughed, your faces so close together it seemed like your breaths were one with each other. “It’s not my fault I’ve got someone so beautiful next to me.”

Gently pulling the covers over you, Octavio held you closer to him and felt your head tuck into the crook of his neck, legs twisted together, with his hands gently running up and down your back.

“Goodnight, mi alma. I love you.” Octavio hummed.

“I love you too Tavi. Goodnight.” You brought your hands up to his hair, your nails gently scratching at his scalp. “Hey, Tavi?”

“Hm?”

“What were you saying earlier? In Spanish.”

Octavio smiled. “Those words may be about you, but they’re for me right now. I will teach you someday.”

“Boo.” You wanted to protest, but were simply too tired to care anymore.

Octavio kissed your forehead. “Te enseñaré un día, cuando pueda llamarte mi esposa.” For now, though, he’ll take it slow.

#cassy gets nasty #octane #apex legends #apex legends x reader #apex legends octane #octavio silva #octavio silva x reader #octane x reader #nsft

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kookingtae · 3 years

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falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts scenario #i hope this is good enough for the time being!!! im sorry its taking me so long to get pt 8 posted #u guys are the best i love u <3333

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

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Damocles

Characters: Zhongli, fm!reader

Word Count: 3,211

Warnings: Hanahaki disease – depictions of a fictional illness with symptoms mimicking tuberculosis, mentions of coughing up blood, talking a lot about death

Premise: In which the reader thinks Zhongli doesn’t reciprocate their feelings, and fears the consequences.

Author’s Note: Ngl, I don’t think I’ve ever really heard about this trope before, except maybe in passing. So if it’s a little weird that’s why.

I ended up taking the story in a bit of a macabre direction. Hopefully not too melodramatic, but I kinda like how it turned out.

Zhongli

“Thank you for telling me, but I’m afraid I cannot return your feelings. I’m sorry to be a disappointment.”

In truth you couldn’t decide whether or not you had expected your feelings to be returned. You and Zhongli had been friends for years now, and you had grown closer to him than you had to most of your previous friends and acquaintances. Indeed, you had grown closer to him than you had to many of the people you’d been in previous relationships in. You called upon him in some form almost every day, whether it be to discuss something of importance or simply bask in his presence. When there was something new you found about, whether it be a story in a book or a particularly funky looking shell, you almost immediately sought out Zhongli to share your find with.

For Zhongli’s part, he also liked to share experiences with you. At the very least you couldn’t say that your friendship was one sided. He often would be the one to walk up to you on the street, a new brand of tea written down on a piece of paper in his pocket, or a location where one could find particularly beautiful glaze lilies on his lips. He never seemed to mind when you peppered him with endless questions, or talked his ear off about your own day; something which you often asked if he found annoying. No, you were very sure that Zhongli wasn’t simply spending time with you out of pity.

In truth it was your friends who guessed the trajectory of your personal feelings before you did. Though you often found their poking and prodding intensely irritating, they had the common sense to keep the questions to a minimum – perhaps in hope their silence might guarantee that your affections would reveal themselves naturally one day. Now though you had to admit they had been right. You had fallen for Zhongli how long ago? It seemed so difficult to say when, so gradually had your feelings changed from viewing him as a confidante to viewing him as something more. Once you had finally come to terms with it you’d put off revealing your feelings as long as possible.

It wasn’t just the chance of rejection, something that would already cause emotions to run high. You had seen what sort of disease could ravage those who were unlucky in love. One of your own friends had suffered from such a disease, a fellow member of the Liyue Qixing had died from such a thing only a few months ago.

It was a terrible disease, everyone at least could agree about that. The origins of such an unfathomable sickness was much less understood. Most saw it as a curse from the gods, a punishment to the humans who would love a fellow mortal more than those who ruled above them, who gave their protection, their mercy, and their gifts to the people below. Others argued that it was simply a result of stress, for what heart could take the shock of a truly deep rejection. A rare parasite, a curse from malevolent demons, all these theories made little difference when it came to the actual disease. You were fairly sure anyways that people dying of it couldn’t care less why it happened, only that it was happening to them.

First came the coughing, easy enough to ignore in a land where the common cold truly lived up to its name. Then you couldn’t run as fast or as far as you had once, at least on the days were you weren’t fighting off crippling fatigue – the night sweats doing little to help you in your desperate need for rest. Then the fever set in, then the blood that stained the porcelain sink. By the time the first few petals would appear emaciation would already begin to claim your muscle mass and the precious body fat that kept you alive. Some people didn’t even get to the point of regurgitating fully formed flowers. Those people were usually considered lucky, for when one must deal with an incurable disease, well, surely it is better to go sooner rather than later.

You wouldn’t lie and say that wasn’t one of the reasons it took you so long to confess. After all, what you don’t know won’t kill you, right? You weren’t actually sure about that, but it sounded right in your mind, regardless of its actual veracity. However, as with most people in love, you’d found a growing recklessness inside you, paired with the sudden desperation for a happiness which you would certainly never obtain at this rate. So you’d made up your mind to tell him, deciding that perhaps the certainty would be better than the ever growing cloud of anxiety that surrounded your thoughts.

Now you’d been rejected. You had to admit that your first reaction was utter panic, the distinct feeling of having made a terrible sort of mistake. Oh sure, your feelings were undeniably hurt, but that was less important than the virtual death sentence you’d been handed. Why oh why had you decided to do this? The world seemed to swim in front of your for a moment, as simultaneously everything came into sharp focus and faded away into the recesses of your mind. What would you do now? There was nothing to do, you just had to wait for the inevitable, wait for the cold embrace of death to welcome you to its abode. You took deep breaths, trying to control yourself. Tears were forming in your eyes, but you knew that they weren’t from romantic distress. Ironically romance was the last thing in your mind right now.

“I, I see. Thank you for your honesty.”

It was all you could manage to make out. Turning around, head light from fear, you bolted down the streets of Liyue, desperate to be in your home, desperate to ignore the sword of Damocles that now hung dangerously low over your head.

Zhongli watched you go, watched as you stumbled your way through the crowd that always packed the streets of Liyue in the daytime. He was fine, he was perfectly fine. He had seen it through, had done what he knew was right. There was no reason to regret. Surely the small stab of pain he felt was temporary, a pinprick compared to all that the ex-archon had suffered over the years.

Zhongli had suspected that a confession like this might’ve been on the horizon for quite some time now. Not that he was dreading it out of a personal inability to reciprocate. No, in his heart Zhongli already reciprocated your suspected feelings. He loved you, adored you even; within the stony heart that had atrophied over years of war, suffering, and personal duty, grew a love that Zhongli had not felt for a very long time. He cherished every moment with you, knowing that his long life would try to compress the memories that were so precious to them. Seeing you whenever he could, dragged out conversations as long as he possibly could, Zhongli was practically desperate for time with you. He was also intensely aware of how short that time would ultimately be.

How could Zhongli push the curse of loving an immortal being on you? For it truly was a curse, to both parties involved. His side was painful of course, the knowledge that your memory, you lifespan even, would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. He would always be wondering whether or not the two of you would be experiencing a “last”. Last visit to the sea, last time to climb up the Huaguang Stone Forest to watch the sunset together. Last, last, last. Always the shadow of death would hang over you, so palpable in Zhongli’s mind that he might almost reach out and grasp the gossamer veil that would eventually steal you away. Yes, it would be a truly painful experience. Not nearly as painful however as your own experience.

Zhongli had long ago come to the conclusion that mortals had no true concept of the passage of time. You were young now, the world was your oyster. Zhongli’s immortal status would be nothing more than a passing thought, an anomaly and nothing more. Then your 40th birthday would pass, then you 50th, then you 60th, 70th, 80th. By the time you reached the end of your life the difference between you and Zhongli would stretch out like a chasm between the two of you, something to never be reconciled, for the old rarely forgave the young for their youth. Not to mention the other scenario, the one that Zhongli would never allow the freedom to truly cloud his thoughts. Your death of old age would be a tragedy, the alternative a catastrophe.

He knew all this, had seen it time and time again. Zhongli was hardly the first immortal being to fall in love with a mortal, would not be the last. Adepti, archons, all walks of immortal life were drawn to humanity, drawn to the freedom that came with mortality. Humans did things because they died; they had no forcible tie to nature, no innate duty other than to themselves. Humans could be wicked or kind or cruel or merciful as they wished. To those who were chained by their destiny, well, there was something very anomalous in such a choice. Perhaps it was no surprise then that an immortal being would inevitable find themselves interacting with those supposedly below them. Perhaps it was no surprise that this often led to love.

All that being true, Zhongli still refused to give into his needless selfishness. He loved you, yes. Knowing that was enough. He wouldn’t push such a burden on you, wouldn’t cause you resentment or pain. It would be better if you thought that your feelings weren’t reciprocated, it would be less painful.

Nor would you have to worry about the curse to which many less lucky fell. Zhongli still loved you, still cherished you deeply. You would never have to worry about that, for archons and adepti do not move on from love the way humans do. Zhongli’s love for you would long outlast your lifespan, one which, the archon prayed, would be very long indeed.

Yes, everything had been handled well enough. Perhaps you would never wish to speak with him again, perhaps you would grow to resent him even, how quickly love can turn into hate. It didn’t matter though. Zhongli had shielded you from long, drawn-out suffering, and that was all that mattered. He should’ve been satisfied, should have felt relief. Instead however he only felt a great sadness pressing down, a sadness combined with the pain that accompanied a love that must never truly be realized.

It had been nine days since you’d been rejected by Zhongli. Crossing off another square on the calendar which you had dug out of your old stationary you sighed. The nine days succeeding the encounter had been utter hell. At first you were convinced that the worst thing that could happen was the symptoms of the wretched illness showing up quickly, so convinced you were that the next day you would wake up with blood on your pillow. Soon however, you’d come to a completely different conclusion. There was nothing worse than waiting.

Every day was spent in the agony of anticipation, every day waiting for the coughing to begin, for the night sweats to begin ravaging your sleep, for the breathe to be stolen from your lungs. Yet every day you woke up with none of these things, though your fatigue was real enough.

You should have been relieved, should have been glad for the opportunity to live even a few more days. Yet instead of relief you only felt deep, unrelenting dread. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, so crippled were you by morbid anticipation.

Not that your thoughts were particularly worthwhile either. Perhaps it would be one thing if your ruminations had brought up something profound, something that you could write down in a book for your family or your friends. Though it still would be poor solace, well, at least it’d be something. But your thoughts had all turned to mush, replaced by a paranoia so strong it confined you to your bed most days.

You thought that the death sentence would in some way be freeing, that you might be able to recklessly throw yourself at all the things you had avoided out of fear for so long. Instead you found yourself depressed, waiting for an inevitable so terrifying you found yourself disconnecting from the people around you. What did it matter anyways? You’d be dead soon enough.

This gross neglect of your wellbeing was at least somewhat allayed by the routine that had been drilled into your body from so many years working for the Liyue Qixing. Though you didn’t go to work, something you were sure you were going to hear about eventually, you still dared to venture out to the market. At the very least you would eat your fill in good for before the end was nigh. No need to worry about your health after all. Besides, your definition of good food didn’t necessarily always align with completely unhealthy.

Walking through the familiar streets you stared at the people around you. How odd it was to see people so close you could touch them but so far they might as well have been in Inazuma. Was there anyone else here suffering like you were? Anyone who could understand the thoughts that now flooded your brain? You stared at the ground, trying not to think about it. You’d be confronted with these thoughts the minute you got home anyways. Might as well delay it a bit.

Turning to find the fishmonger you spied a familiar silhouette. Stopping in your tracks you stared unabashedly at Zhongli. The man seemed to be carrying himself much as ever, but the unapproachable atmosphere which he’d blanketed himself in seemed somewhat more prominent. Perhaps it was your imagination, he seemed to be talking to the butcher easily enough. Not that it was any of your business. Zhongli wasn’t any of your business anymore. It would be better if you could forget him, if you could erase this feeling in your heart that refused to go away. Even now Zhongli was beautiful. Even now you wished to run up to him, to hug him, to make pretend everything was right with the world. You couldn’t do that though. Just as you couldn’t forget him, you couldn’t love him. Not in the way you wanted. Turning away you trudged back home, good food utterly forgotten.

It was day eighteen since Zhongli had rejected you, and by now your emotions were running almost unbearably high. You’d sunk into an odd reverie of adrenaline, anxiety, and utter disbelief. What in the world was going on? This was a familiar illness to you, something that had almost claimed the life of your friend and had felled your coworker. You knew everything about symptoms, timeline, etc.; and what you knew was you were supposed to be falling ill ages ago. Eighteen days between the initial rejection and the beginning of symptoms? It was unheard of! You didn’t know what to think. Were the rumors about the gods true, had Zhongli imposed some divine protection on you for the sake of your friendship? Were you somehow a superhuman who had the white blood cell coding to defeat the bacteria that caused this disease? Why hadn’t your descent begun yet?

You lounged on the couch, having moved out of your bedroom on the thirteenth day, three days after the latest possible showing of symptoms. Though you still felt deeply afraid, you found that curiosity was a surprisingly good deterrent when it wanted to be. Your fears hadn’t disappeared, but mixed with them was a disbelief so great that you often found your thoughts drifting to questions of how rather than questions of when.

Of course your initial instinct had been to seek out Zhongli. Pride mixed with fear however had kept you firmly at home. Really what was the point in even seeking out the answer to your miraculous reprieve at this point? It wouldn’t really change the outcome. Instead you might as well enjoy this unexpected extension of your life. Besides, you didn’t want to tempt the fates a second time.

Zhongli stood at the window of your first story apartment, a glaze lily in hand. He hadn’t meant to do this, but the urge refused to leave him.

He’d noticed you a few times at the market, face drawn, eyes empty. Zhongli wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting, but certainly this wasn’t it. He knew you weren’t suffering from illness, your pace was strong, if slightly erratic, your general aura not that of the sick that Zhongli was all too familiar with. Why then did you look so terrible? The doubts that had plagued Zhongli began to rise again, jeering at the mistake he had made. He was supposed to protect you, right? Why then did you look as if you had experienced a total health collapse?

At first Zhongli tried to ignore it. You had not come to him for help, it was not his place to try and insert himself back in your life once more. The more he thought of you however, the more he found himself uneasy. He had to have some form of communication, some way to enquire about your health. At least one last time. If you explicitly rejected all forms of contact, well then Zhongli would leave. He would never defy your wishes in such a way. Until then however, he felt like he needed to ask.

The idea of walking up to your apartment and asking you was utterly off the table. Who knew how that might end? No, he wanted a subtler way. Glaze lilies had always been a favorite of yours, sneaking out into the evening to see them bloom even more so. He would simply leave one on your windowsill. If you took it, then he would enquire about your health. If you left it, well Zhongli would have his answer.

His hand trembled slightly as he stared at the windowsill, causing the gold ribbon tied around the lily to tremble slightly. At first Zhongli wanted only to give you the flower. He realized soon however that you might be confused, wondering if someone had not simply dropped a flower on your windowsill, or had the wind blown it there? The ribbon would hopefully clear things up. Even if it looked a little silly.

Slowly placing the flower down onto the open window Zhongli sighed. Turning around he did not dare spare a glance backwards. He would have his answer soon enough after all. Until then, well, there was no point in looking back.

You exited from the kitchen, having finally felt the energy to make yourself that good food you’d been promising yourself. Going to look at the sunset you let out a soft gasp.

On your windowsill was a single glaze lily, wrapped in gold.

#no one dies but I left the ending a bit ambiguous on purpose #I wrote more about it in the ask #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin impact #requested #oneshot #my writing

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 3 years

Note

ahh im obsessed with the summer prompts. Can I request Lifeguard Tom with prompt 36 please? preferably fluffy ending but its all up to you thanks!

This became very long sorry bestie. I hope you still enjoy it tho! Love you so much, thank you for the request love!

Reminder to everyone else that the Summer of Love is still going on and I'll be accepting requests for it until September 22nd! You can find the prompt list here!

Let’s Give It a Shot

36 - It’s the last day of summer, and your last day together

Pairing: Lifeguard! Tom x Reader

Summary: Tom shows you exactly why you love him so much

Warnings: angst, crying, fighting

Masterlist

Summer of Love

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tom peaked at the bed as he pulled his shirt over his head, a smile came over his face at the sight.

“Good morning angel,” he cooed, “Like what you see?”

“I liked it better when you had your shirt off,” she teased, her voice still raspy and tired, “Remind me why we agreed to work today?”

“It’s only till noon,” he reminded as he bent to kiss her. He laughed as she attempted to pull him into bed, “I’ve got to get going, swim class starts at 7.”

She rolled onto her back and groaned, “Who the fuck takes their kids to swim class at 7?”

“Their toddlers angel, most of them have been up since 5,” he pecked her lips one final time before standing up, “I’ll see you at 8?”

She hummed, nodding once before she closed her eyes again, “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he watched her settle back into bed before leaving, closing the bedroom door as quietly as he could behind him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Bye bye,” Tom waved to the kids as they padded through the lobby.

“We’ll see you all Thursday,” Harrison added.

“Well I really appreciate it,” Tom smiled in response, falling into the spinning chair that she usually sat in, “Seriously, I owe you.”

The kids filed out, being ushered away by their parents while the boys hung around the front desk.

“I can’t believe I agreed to take you shift,” Harrison yawned, stretching his arms above his head, “You’re such a dick.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the best,” he glanced towards the door, just in time to spot (y/n), “Oh shit, fun’s over Tom, time to get back to work.”

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes, “What are you two doing at my desk huh?”

“You’re desk?” Tom smirked, “This is my desk today angel.”

“Oh and I suppose you want me to save the drowning children?”

“No,” he stood and grabbed her by the waist, “Haz is going to watch the pool today and I’m going to help you up front.”

She raised a brow and turned to Harrison, “Really?”

He nodded, “Course sweetheart, happy to give you a little extra time together.”

“Aw, thank you Haz,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You’re welcome,” he gave her a squeeze before dropping her, “Alright, I’ve got to go clean up, you two just make sure everything is done. I don’t want to get in trouble because you two were making out instead of working.”

“We will, don’t worry,” she laughed, “Thank you guys, I couldn’t have dreamed up a better last day.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom hummed, pressing his lips to hers as she tried to reach for the computer behind him, “We could do this everyday if you stayed, I could switch to the front.”

“Tom you know I can’t,” she sighed, “I don’t think we should be having this discussion at work either, it’s just gonna make us both emotional.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow morning so I’m gonna be emotional no matter what,” he sighed, “You never want to talk about this.”

“Because I don’t like thinking about leaving. I don’t like the idea of being far away anymore than you do.”

“Then don’t leave,” he grabbed her hands, preventing her from getting to her job, “Just stay here. You can move in with us, Haz adores you, he won’t mind.”

“Tom I can’t. I have to go back to school, and right now I have to open, so can we please save this for later?”

He sighed and nodded, “Yeah, yeah, we can talk about it later.”

“Thank you,” she kissed his cheek before pushing across the floor.

He laughed as the chair spun away from her, “I don’t know how you expect me to help from all the way over here.”

“I expect you to go make sure the bathrooms are stocked,” she flashed him a cheeky smile while she popped open the register, “And I’m gonna count the cash.”

He sighed and dragged his feet towards the closet, “Fine, fine, I wouldn’t do it for anyone else though.”

The day continued as normal, despite Tom’s best attempts to distract (y/n) from work. Tom had surprised her by doing most of the work throughout the day, insisting she simply sit and handle the register. It was a nice change, normally when Tom hung out in the front it was just to steal drinks and tease. Tom busted through all of her tasks, seeming impossibly determined to get them home as soon as possible. He’d managed to do it too, Harry arrived at exactly noon and he’d rushed (y/n) right out the door.

“Hurry,” Tom shook her shoulders while she gathered her things.

“I am, I am, sheesh,” she shoved her phone into her purse and stood, “What’s the big rush?”

“I’ve just got a lot planned for today,” he beamed at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, “Now come on, our first stop is this way.”

“Our first stop?” she knit her brow as he led her towards the pool, “Wait why are we going to the pool?”

“Because it’s our first stop,” he repeated, stopping just outside the doors, “See that?” he pointed to one of the lifeguard’s chairs.

She nodded, trying to imagine where he might be taking the conversation, “I do see the chair Tom.”

“It’s the most important chair in the world,” he kissed the top of her head with a smile, “Because I was sitting in that chair the first time I saw you.”

She flushed, biting her cheek to try and fight off her smile, “Stop.”

“I remember it exactly. You walked out of there and I just couldn’t take my eyes off you, you wouldn’t believe how disappointed I was when they said you were gonna be up front.”

“I thought you were pretty cute too.”

He laughed, “Thank God you did.”

“Did you bring me out here just for that?” she raised a brow, “You’re not trying to throw me into the pool?”

He shook his head, “No, just wanted to be a little sappy. Now I’m gonna take you on that date and be even sappier.”

“Lucky me,” she chuckled, “So, where are you taking me now?”

“Minx,” he smirked, “Alright darling, just get ready for the best date of your life.”

“Back home, I can’t parade around the town dressed like this,” he motioned to his swim trunks with a smile, “As much as you might like that.”

“I’d rather save that for tonight,” she teased back, “When I’ve got you all to myself.”

Tom took her home, refusing to reveal even the tiniest detail about their date as they both got ready. He claimed it would be long, that’d they’d be out until that night, but refused to give her any more details. He even went as far as to try and blindfold her when they got in the car, but he quickly dropped it when she refused. She expected he’d be taking her somewhere new or out of town because of this, she was completely in shock when he just drove her to a sandwich shop just up the street from the pool.

“Seriously? We eat here like everyday,” she rolled her eyes, “This cannot be it Tom.”

“It’s not,” he laughed, “Obviously I’ve got something more than this planned. I just thought we could stop here.”

“Why?”

“Because, if you remember,” he began to explain, a smile overtaking his features, “You stayed late to help me clean the pool and I took you to lunch as thanks. It was like our first half date.”

“Half date?” she laughed, “That is not a thing Tom.”

“Yes it is, it was the first time we hung out outside of work together, and it’s when I asked you out, it’s a half date.”

“Those are very specific circumstances that define a half date,” she pursed her lips, fighting her urge to smile.

“Whatever, the point is, this place is special because it reminds me of you,” he leaned over the middle console to press a kiss to her cheek, “And I just wanted to tell you that before we got to the real date.”

“Aw,” she cooed at him, “Don’t tell me it’s going to get even sappier than this.”

“Oh angel, just you wait, it’s only getting worse and worse from here.”

She watched out the windows as Tom drove her across town to another restaurant, though this time she knew exactly why he’d brought her there.

“Tom,” she bit her lip as she spoke, “This is incredibly cute.”

“Ah not here angel,” he grabbed her hands as she tried to open the door, “Just being sappy again. Remember what happened here?”

“Our first date, how could I ever forget that?” she smiled as she reminisced on the happy memories, “We got all dressed up and you brought me flowers. Then we talked until they closed, and we still couldn’t get enough of each other so you drove me up to that cliff side and talked all night.”

“No, no, it was nothing like that,” he rolled his eyes, “I picked you up and you looked so fucking gouregous I could barely speak. Then I took you to this restaurant and I tried so desperately and to seem interesting enough to keep your attention. For some reason you put up with me, and we talked and talked and talked. I thought you’d want to go home at the end of the night but you still weren’t sick of me so we drove up to that little lookout point and I fell madly and deeply in love with you while we talked the night away.”

“You did not fall in love with you on our first date,” she rolled her eyes, “You’re just trying to make me emotional.”

“I fell in love with you the first time I laid my eyes on you, it just took me a little while to realize it.”

She sighed, letting her head fall onto his shoulder, “I fell in love with you the first time we kissed. I’ve never felt like that with anyone else.”

“Mine was cuter,” Tom hummed as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Oh whatever,” she rolled her eyes, “Alright, are we going to the real date now?”

“You’ll see, you’ll see,” he shushed her, driving just a few parking lots over to the local bowling alley, “Remember here?”

“Another one?” she sighed, “Alright, you took me here to introduce me to your brothers. I found out that I majorly suck at bowling that night.”

“Yeah you do,” he laughed, “But my brothers adore you, they treat you like a sister and it totally melts my heart.”

“Yeah, I think they’re cool too,” she chuckled, “So, is there an actual date or are you just taking me on a victory lap of the city?”

“There is a date, at the end of the victory lap,” he admitted, “There’s just a couple more things I want you to see first.”

“You’ll see, just give it a second,” he hummed.

Tom drove her all over the city, stopping anywhere with even the tiniest amount of significance. He took her to the club where they’d spent Harrison’s birthday, the fairgrounds where they spent way too much money on rigged games, even the local park, where her and Harry had gotten way too competitive with a game of frisbee golf. He took her to more sentimental spots too, like where they’d had their first kiss, the hill where they’d fallen asleep watching a meteor shower, the place where they’d first said I love you, where they’d had their first time. It was like a montage of their greatest hits, that had her falling in love with Tom, and the city, all over again. She was almost in tears when Tom finally declared that the tour was over, and it was really time for their date.

“Okay, where are we really going then?” she pressed, her eyes glued to the window for any clues, “I mean we’ve pretty much been everywhere already…”

“Looks like we’re heading to your place, or work,” she knit her brow.

“Does it?”

“Does it?” she mocked, “We have to get out of this car soon or I’m gonna pee myself.”

“Well,” he flicked his blinker on and turned into the pool parking lot, “Good thing we’re here.”

“Tom I swear to god I-”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughed, “But you can run inside real quick and use the restroom before we go.”

“They’re closed.”

“I have my keys,” he flicked off the car, grinning as he waved for her to follow, “Hurry up angel.”

She followed him inside, suspicious that he had some kind of ulterior motive, “We are not fooling around in there Tom.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he hummed as he opened the front door, “Go on, take care of your business.”

“Thanks,” she scampered off to the bathroom, only to find Tom was missing when she returned, “Tom?” she peaked around the lobby but found nothing. She got no response when she knocked on the men's locker room door, and the employee lobby was empty. “Tom?” she called again, peeking at her phone for any hints, “Come on,” she sighed and headed for the pool.

“Surprise!”

Out jumped everyone she’d spent the summer with, Tom, Harrison, his brothers, everyone they’d worked with at the pool, all the friends she’s made across town. The pool was all lit up, lined with tables full of food and drinks. (y/n) was in shock, her jaw hung open as she took it all in.

“So,” Tom’s arms wrapped around her waist and he pressed a kiss to her cheek, “What do you think?”

“This is amazing,” she squeezed his hands, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” he kissed her cheek again before stepping away, “We all wanted to make your last night really special.”

“It’s perfect,” she confirmed, “Seriously, I couldn’t imagine anything better than this.”

“Glad to hear it love,” Harrison wrapped his arm around her shoulders for a quick hug, “Come on though, you’ve got lots of people to say goodbye too.”

She was led around to say hi to everyone, progressively becoming more and more emotional as the night went on. Tom stuck right to her side, doing his best to comfort her as the night went on. It was nice, she appreciated the gesture and everyone being there, but the realization that this was her goodbye just kept creeping back up. Tom could tell she was drained by the end of the night, obviously ready to just curl up in bed.

“Angel, are you ready to go home?” he hummed.

“No, no, I’m okay,” she insisted, “We should stay and help clean up.”

“You can’t clean up your own party,” Harry rolled his eyes, “We’ll stay back and clean it up. If you’re ready to go you and Tom can head out.”

“Are you guys sure?” she wrung her hands nervously, “We can stay and help.”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, it’s not very much anyway, we’ve got this.”

“Thanks guys,” Tom squeezed her side, “Let’s get you home then yeah?”

She nodded, “Thanks guys.”

She moved to give each of them a hug, mumbling a quick goodbye, hoping to escape to the car as quickly as possible. Harry seemed to have other ideas in mind though.

“I love you,” he squeezed her tight.

“Aw, I love you too,” she chuckled.

“I’m gonna miss you so much sis,” he patted her back as she pulled away.

She forced a smile as she stepped away, waving to them while her and Tom slipped away.

“Are you alright?” Tom squeezed her waist.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she insisted as she climbed into the passenger seat, “I just wanna go home.”

“Alright, we’ll go.”

“He called me sis.”

“What?”

“Harry called me sis.”

Tom chuckled, “Well yeah, I told you earlier, they think of you like a sister.”

“But it’s different when he says it,” she sniffled, her facade finally crumbling, “I don’t wanna go Tom.”

He moved to her side as quick as he could and pulled her into him, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to angel. If you want to stay you can, Haz and I would be more than happy to have you.”

“But I can’t! I can’t just ditch everything for a summer fling! I have to go back to school and my family and I have to go home! But I don’t want to go back there! I want this to be home, I don’t want to leave!”

Tom took a deep breath and kissed the top of her head before scooting back to his seat, “I know we went a lot of places today angel, but I’ve got one more thing to show you alright?”

“No I don’t wanna go fucking see anything else Tom! I just want to go home…”

“We will, I just want to show you one thing angel, it’ll make you feel better,” he promised, slipping a hand over hers, “It’ll be quick.”

“Okay…”

She was quiet the rest of the short drive, he’d taken her to a small cafe, they’d only been there once before.

“Come on angel,” he waved for her to follow him.

“Why would you bring me here?” she scoffed.

“Just come on,” he insisted, smiling as she slammed the door behind her, “Come sit with me,” he patted his lap.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before falling into his lap, “Why are we here?”

“Do you remember what happened here?” he hummed.

She nodded, “Yeah, we had our first fight here, and it seems like you’re trying to have our second too.”

“No, I’m making a point,” he corrected with a smile, “We had our first fight here, and then we never came back here again. But that is not why I brought you here, I brought you here because that fight made me think about us, and the fact that you had to leave at the end of summer. I kept trying to think of ways around it or ways for us to minimize our time apart, but you know what thought never crossed my mind?”

“What?” she sank into her chair.

“That when summer came to an end we would break up, because we aren’t a summer fling. We never were, not even for a second, and the sacrifices we make are not for a summer fling, they’re for a real relationship that both of us treasure. If you really, really don’t want to go then you can stay, and I mean we’ve got a Uni nearby and you’ve always got somewhere to stay here. But if I’m the only reason you don’t want to go then you need to go, and we’ll suffer through the long distance until my lease with Haz is up and then I’ll move to you.”

She shook her head, “It’s not just you, I love this town, and the friends I’ve made here, it’s everything about this place. I just feel like I belong here, and I’ve never felt like that back home.”

“Obviously I’m biased here,” he chuckled, “But you could always just give it a semester out here, transfer back if you hate it, or vice versa. Just remember this long distance thing is going to be temporary no matter what, and even then we’re only a couple hours apart.”

She was silent as she tried to sort out her thoughts, “Yeah, school’s a little cheaper out here too, that’d be nice. A-And I haven't paid for anything yet this year so I’m not really obligated to go…”

“You don’t have to justify anything to me angel, obviously I want you to stay” he kissed her shoulder with a frown, “If you wanna give it a shot then I think you should, but if you don’t, we’re still gonna make this work, because I love you.”

“I love you too,” she sniffled while he wiped her eyes, “Thanks Tommy.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallberry @namoreno @spideyssunshine @thevery-firstpage @outshineallthestars @roseke @zspideyy @tomsirishgirlx @emistrash @andreagf956 @peachyafshawn @spideyspeaches

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halcyon-writings · 3 years

Note

i checked this list and it said persona so im hoping this is still ok. Date night with the protagonists? (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and thank you >///

ー『anonymous: Can i get dating headcanons for the persona protags (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and super thank yous. I love these boys so much. ;A;』

note(s): I am going to combine these requests as they are similar enough I hope that is alright! no real warnings for this one either, I just think these dudes are neat. Also I know they all have like 5 different names, so I just went with the ones I am more familiar with. Maybe(????) spoilers for 3, 4, and 5, so if you haven’t finished or played them, be warned (although, idk if anyone would read it if they haven’t played the respective game but idk warning for spoilers just in case) also idk how i feel about these hcs rn, but i did my best dhdjdj

all my other links can be found in my navigation post!! If you like my writing and you’d like to support me, my tip jar is also linked there!

hcs under the cut so i’m not clogging anyone’s dash (originally these were gonna be a short set of hcs but i guess not dbdndn)

What our dear protagonist lacks in overall extrovertedness, he makes up for in action. Surprise surprise, dates can either range from hanging out in the dorms and cooking a nice meal together. Or maybe going to the mall and heading to the arcade. Or basically wandering around until your legs hurt and your purchases range from new outfits to weird antiques from the antique shop.

However he really does treasure these little trinkets, because the memory of your laughter when you were given a certain item will forever be ingrained in his mind. It’s a comfort in the end too.

Date nights are focused on you and you only. He definitely sets a date where he knows you both are free so that there’s less likely of a chance for being interrupted. He definitely wouldn’t want his time with you to be wasted. Although seeing his small pout when it does happen is very cute.

You also gotta be keen on if he sees something he likes and wants. While Minato won’t exactly say it, his gaze lingers a bit longer than usual. But he ultimately won’t get it, because he wants to focus on you and also save up for when the group goes to Tartarus. So if you surprise him with whatever he had wanted, he’s so happy.

While he is slightly more reserved in comparison to Yu and Akira, Minato speaks through action. Whenever you two are walking together, he always has your hand in his, or keeping close by in some way. He likes to cling to you when it’s just you two, his head buried in the crook of your neck as you two nap tother, legs tangled up together. Or the small jokes he says loud enough for only you to hear, but they’re still so funny. Sometimes you’re asked if he’s really a good boyfriend, and you have to laugh off the doubt, because they don’t see the sides of him that you do.

My god. Yu would absolutely be the best at arranging dates and hangouts. I take no criticism. Like you guys could literally just be walking all around Inaba, or just sitting by the river bed and it could be one of the greatest times you’ve both had together. A romantic at heart, Yu would also be a bit cheesy in arranging dates.

He shows affection through communcating it. Whether it’s a new outfit or something, he’ll say that you look incredible or if you’ve studied for a hard exam, he’ll make sure you know how amazing you are for passing. Idk just anything that has you smiling from sweet compliments and other words of affirmation. A big sap, honestly you try and joke about it but he just earnestly says “Who wouldn’t be for you?” And you have to sit down and hide your face in your hands for a solid 5 minutes.

You also gotta be cool with Nanako. But then again she’s a cute kid and a sweetheart so idk why you wouldn’t be. Although he does get a little flustered if it’s you two watching her while Dojima-san is working late at the station and the old ladies coo over how you three look like a mini family yourselves. Which is kind of a common occurrence. And I feel like Yu would know pretty well if he sees a future with someone he’s with, and with you he does shhh

Date nights in Inaba are really fun and a good way to wind down, sometimes it’s wandering Junes and finding whatever the newly advertised, as seen on tv appliance is. Or other parts of the shopping district, where he can really let go and just have fun for himself. When not worrying about school work or the cases the Investigation Team is working on.

some spoilers here; but after Izanami is defeated and the year ends. When Yu has to leave Inaba it doesn’t mean that he won’t put his best efforts to keep up the relationship. If possible, video calls or just the occasional text too. And when he visits, while he does miss his friends, he’s especially antsy to see you too. And when you’re both together again, he refuses to leave your side.

Now, Akira can be described as this suave, casanova type character. But he’s also a giant dork and you know it, he knows it, the Phantom Thieves all know it, hell even Sojiro knows it. It doesn’t mean his attempts at flirting doesn’t get you blushing. And when he sees the flustered expression, it only motivates him to keep going. But turn the tables on him, and he’s putty in your hands. (And he looks very cute).

Because of the way you met, aka, at Shujin, where his reputation was basically over and done with before it even began, he has a lot of doubt and trust issues, what if someone dared you to speak to the “criminal” or something? While he won’t show these doubts out loud to his friends, it’s still something he thinks back on a lot. But when you defend him vehemently one day, he knows he was right to trust you.

A part of dating Akira, is eventually finding out who he is. Maybe trips to Mementos cause him to be late to dates or not even show up at all. You end up stood up more often then not once things begin to get really serious. From small time school teachers to the literal Yakuza (and eventually a candidate for Prime Minister, and a god), you don’t know where he is. And that becomes really stressful because then the doubt™️ sets in.

To make this less angsty and more funny, imagine you know from figuring it out. He’s suspiciously watching the news on the PT, and no offense to Ryuji, he’s not the most quiet. So he’s so nervous trying to tell you when you’re just “yeah I know, sorry for not telling you, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to know.” and he’s just the surprised pikachu face.

As for date nights, the city is your oyster. I’d say the world but mans still currently has a criminal record so probably not yet. But he’s gonna take you wherever you want. Whether it’s a themed cafe, or just the streets of Shinjuku, as you take in all the sights from the bright places, he’s willing to do whatever for you. That includes facing off kids at the arcade for a stuffed plush you saw and admitted it was cute. He is a man on a mission. And you cannot stop him. So you both end up back at Leblanc at the end of the night carrying your plushies and eating some curry that Sojiro left warming for you. That even includes the Big Bang Burger challenge he will do it for you , even though you probably do laugh at his pain after but you still coo and praise his efforts.

After he goes back home, record clean and world hopefully peaceful. Virtual dates become a thing, either just sitting and talking while having dinner or something is nice. He still loves to say those cheesy pickup lines that had you hiding your flustered expression as you walked through the streets of Shibuya on call. You only hung up on him once but he quickly called back and was very pouty about it. You were forgiven though with the promise of giving many kisses when he visits.

#persona imagines #persona x reader #persona 3 imagines #persona 3 x reader #minato arisato x reader #persona 4 imagines #persona 4 x reader #yu narukami x reader #persona 5 imagines #persona 5 x reader #akira kurusu x reader #mine

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hercleverboy · 3 years

Note

Congrats!!! I love your writing!! I’d like to request a blurb with #36 from the general list and #41 from fluf 💕💕💕

thank you so much! enjoy!

I don’t really like this piece too much, so please let me know what you think!

wc ↠ 1.7k

General #36 ↠ “Do you trust me?” “No.”

Fluff #41 ↠ “You say you hate him but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

Spencer Reid had hated her from the moment he met her.

Y/N was absolutely sure of it. When they met for the first time when she joined the BAU, he seemed polite enough. Though he just never let her in the same way he let in the other team members. She understood at first, Spencer had known the rest of the team for years at that point. She even found herself incredibly attracted to the young genius, developing somewhat of a crush on him. His reputation certainly proceeded him, particularly when it came to his issues with germs, so she kept to herself. She understood it would take him time to get used to her, but where the rest of the team warmed to Y/N and accepted her as a part of their family; Spencer never did.

During paperwork days when Y/N would get up to make coffee in the corner of the bullpen, Spencer would already be in the kitchenette, stirring his sugar in with intent. She’d always offer him a polite smile and some light conversation. However, it seemed that as soon as she started to speak, Spencer would pick up his coffee and head back to his desk. She let that go, thinking perhaps she was getting too much in his personal space, though it hung around in the back of her mind for weeks afterwards.

After cases when they’d get on the jet to go back home, she would take a seat opposite him, offer him a kind smile and then pull out a book to read, wholly intent on minding her own business. But Spencer, without even looking up at her, would simply get up and move to an empty seat at the other end of the jet.

Y/N exchanged a look with JJ, who had just shrugged in response. She couldn’t understand Spencer’s dislike for the woman who’d been nothing but kind, and who the team were all already incredibly fond of. She had good initiative, was brilliant in the field and had a capability to pick up on patterns earlier than the rest of them, sometimes even before the resident genius himself. The team suspected that Spencer’s supposed hatred for her was actually his poor attempt at disguising the fact that he was madly in love with her, but he never confirmed nor denied it.

Then somehow, as if she didn’t already think Spencer hated her enough, it got worse. Any time she made contributions to their group conversations, Spencer would cut her off. It was belittling, honestly. It made her second guess her intelligence whenever she’d pose a theory. Every time, without fail, Spencer would pipe up and say, ‘You’re wrong. It’s actually more plausible that—‘

One day, they were sat around the roundtable, having finished debriefing after a long case. The team exchanged murmurs of plans to head down to the bar, with Garcia smiling enthusiastically and insisting that the first round was on her. Y/N had felt pretty awful for the majority of the case, and to top it off she was sure she was coming down with a cold too.

“How about you, Y/L/N? You coming?” Morgan piped up, his usual smirk on his lips.

She forced a smile, scoffing. “No, I think I’m just gonna head home, but thank you.”

Morgan shook his head, determined. “Come on. Even Reid’s coming!”

Y/N looked over at Spencer then, who busied himself with packing away items in his satchel, although she didn’t miss the scowl that seemed to plant itself on his face. She looked back to Morgan. “Sorry Morgan, I’m just not feeling it.”

Morgan sighed, but still tried one last time, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “You sure? It’ll be fun, maybe you and Reid will finally start getting along after a few drinks.”

“Y/N bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sure there’s at least a hundred other people that Reid would rather spend the evening with.”

At that comment, Spencer threw his satchel strap over his shoulder and left the room in a hurry, a look on his face that seemingly resembled hurt.

Y/N swatted Morgan’s shoulder playfully. “Look what you’ve done now! You know how much Reid hates me.” She whined.

Morgan chuckled. “Please, Pretty Boy doesn’t hate you.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“It’s true! Don’t tell anyone I told you, but the team has an ongoing bet on when you two will finally admit your feelings for one another.” He leaned in closer to her. “And I’ve got $20 riding on it being in the summer, if you could help a guy out?”

Y/N groaned at that. “Well be prepared to lose your money, it’s never going to happen. Spencer Reid hates me, and do you know what? I hate him too.” She said defiantly, although it was all too obvious that she was lying through her teeth.

Morgan smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. “You say you hate him, but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

Y/N just waved him off, ignoring how he chuckled at how flustered she’d gotten, and that was that.

Reid’s quite frankly petty behaviour was really winding down on Y/N mentally, and although Hotch often told him off for his snarky comments or gave him the third degree for constantly trying to one-up her, Spencer persisted.

They’d been working on a new case for a week, and Garcia had just sent the team the location of where the unsub was holding his fourth victim hostage. Hopping out of the SUV’s, the team regrouped in front of the house as Hotch ran over the plan with them.

“JJ, Morgan and Rossi, you’re with me. Y/L/N and Reid will take the back. We take the unsub in alive if possible, understand?” He instructed, everyone nodding as they reached for their guns.

“Can’t you switch Morgan and Y/L/N over?” Spencer began to whine but was quickly shut down by Hotch shooting him a warning look. He scoffed, rolling his eyes in defeat. “Great.”

After entering through the back of the house, the two began checking each room they passed by. As they rounded a corner, stalking towards a closed door, Spencer moved so he was in front of Y/N, in what she noticed was an almost protective manner. He leaned closer to the door, listening intently for any sign that the unsub was inside.

“Is he in there?” She whispered, and Spencer looked back at her, nodding.

“I think so.”

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment in thought, running over the important details of the profile in her head. “Do you trust me?”

Spencer scoffed quietly. “No.”

“Well, you’re not going to have a choice.” She mumbled, and before Spencer realised what was happening, Y/N had burst open the door, her gun drawn.

Y/N was stood in the local police station’s conference room, collecting together files and taking down crime scene photos from the evidence board. The case had ended well. Based off of the profile, Y/N had decided that the best course of action was to confront the unsub head on- and it worked, too. Hotch had already told her that she’d done well that day, and that made her heart swell with pride. But Spencer? He hadn’t said anything on the ride back to the police station, busying himself with other things as they prepared to head back home.

Y/N sighed at the thought, looking up from the evidence board just as Spencer entered the room. He immediately turned around, heading back out the door when she called out for him.

“Reid!”

He stopped, turning back around. “What, Y/L/N?”

“What is your problem with me?” She asked, exasperated. She was so tired of just accepting his mistreatment, and she refused to do it any longer.

“I don’t have time for this.” He shook his head, turning to leave again.

“Spencer Reid! You’ve made my life hell since I first joined the Bureau and god help me, you are going to tell me what your problem is!”

“My problem?” He countered, his jaw clenched. “My problem is you! Putting yourself in danger like that without a second thought for the consequences.”

“The consequences? It turned out fine! My plan worked!” She bit back, voice rising.

“It was stupid and reckless, you know better than that.” He spat, making Y/N scoff.

“Why do you care?” She shouted frustratedly. “You can barely stand to be in the same room as me, and for the life of me Spencer I cannot figure out what it is that I did to make you hate me so much!”

Spencer’s defensive stance dropped, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find appropriate words. “Y/N, I know you think I do, but I don’t hate you.”

She gave a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, well you could’ve fooled me.” She sighed, hands running over her face as she attempted to calm herself down. “I don’t understand why me putting myself in danger bothers you so much-”

“Maybe because I love you!”

The silence that fell between them only lasted a handful of seconds. Spencer, prompted by the look of shock on Y/N’s face, scrambled to explain himself.

“I don’t hate you. I-I don’t really think I could if I tried.” He reiterated, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. “I’ve loved you since the day I first met you.”

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly so dry. “I don’t understand-“

“I’m so sorry, I know how poorly I’ve treated you. The only explanation I can offer is that I was so sure you wouldn’t feel the same that I thought it would be better to push you away than face rejection.” He whispered, moving closer to her, shame in his tone.

“You love me?” She murmured in disbelief. The words barely left her lips, so faint and shaky that Spencer nearly hadn’t heard her.

He laughed quietly, as though he was laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, yes I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

He’d moved to stand before her, the two of them looking at one another in absolute awe that they both felt the same way. Spencer’s eyes trailed down to her lips, moving back up to meet her eyes.

Y/N didn’t know how to respond, looking up at him incredulously. “Spencer..”

He bit down his lip, the words leaving his lips in a whisper. “Would it- would it be alright if I kissed you?”

She was nodding before she’d even processed his words, and when his lips met hers- it was euphoric. Like they were simply meant to be.

Perhaps Spencer Reid wasn’t that bad after all.

#kate writes blurbs☘️#spencer reid one shot #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader #mgg #criminal minds

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poisonmedani · 3 years

Text

The first letter | Calum Hood

Calum Hood One Shot

words 1.4k (~7min)

fluff, angst

note: maybe there'll be a part 2, idk yet. let me know if you like it <3

MASTERLIST || REQUESTS

You were always writing. Whatever it was. You were writing. A grocery list, a page number on which you stopped reading, a day (because you always forget whether it’s Wednesday or Thursday), your plans for the day, and, of course, little notes you wrote for me every day – sometimes I would find more than one, because you were leaving them in most absurd places and just forget about it (to be honest I wish there are more left in the house, I found one today and it made this nightmare of the day more bearable).

So, I decided to write to you as it is your language of communication. Frankly speaking – as you often used to say – I never understood how can you like my handwriting? But I try not to think about that much, I just hope you’ll like that piece of writing too (if I ever get the nerve to actually send it). Maybe it would’ve been more sensible to type it, because it’s easier to send (or correct; or delete) – at this very moment I feel just like you: can’t seem to stop speaking (in this case writing) because it feels like there’s not enough words to say what I actually want to say – but it’s soulless, it’s no fun – another thing you often used to say and then you proceeded to wink, oh to see that again.

I guess I could just tell you this one thing using, like, six words, but what’s the point then? I hope you will get through my mumbling.

As I found your little note my heart dropped, I looked inside, and it said ‘do you remember the day we met? you were trying to be so tough it was hilarious. I’m glad you showed me who you truly are <3’.

I remember.

I’ll never forget. I hope you won’t too.

This one probably was old. ‘Old’ like in ‘before-what-happened-old’.

I told you before, but every time I remember something new that you thought was important – every single time, it’s cute how you love little details – so I’m going to tell you one more time, maybe you’ll see something important.

It was the 1st of February, Friday. I just turned 23 few days before, so I felt like I was this wise old man that knew everything – I guess you can say it was one of the reasons why I was acting like a jerk. Guys and I went to this stupid party that someone threw – I don’t think there was anything worth celebrating though. I saw you as you entered the room, but frankly speaking – see what I did here yet again? – I didn’t put too much thought into it. I just remember I glanced at the door, there were you and some dude you were with, my mind said right away: ‘she’ll never look at you’. Of course, she wouldn’t, I thought to myself. So, the next twenty minutes I was just living my life – chatting with someone I cannot remember for the love of me. And then there you went, you passed me, and – I didn’t want to, but – I breathed in your scent. You smelled of cherry. You were headed to the balcony, and I noticed you were holding a lighter. I excused myself and followed you – I don’t know what I was thinking really, I was so done with the people that were talking to me (it was more of a monologue), I wanted to either hear nothing or you. I almost ran to that balcony just to be the one to offer you a cig (so pathetic of me, now I say it). You were right in front of me, lighter in your right hand, still nothing to light. You reached the edge, took a deep breath and turned, there was me – kind of funny to say that – I pretended to take a cigarette out of the pack for myself, but what I really wanted is for you to ask me for one. You did. I looked tough maybe but inside I was burning, I wanted nothing more but to hear you speak, actually speak not just throwing a brief question. You took a cigarette (that was meant for you) and lit it. You were so perfect at this moment. Then you smiled, not just smiled, but smiled at me! Do you remember what you were thinking about when you gave me your first smile? I certainly remember. I thought how weird it was that I actually cared whether you were smiling or not. I nonchalantly asked if you knew the host – maybe a stupid question but I was desperate to hear you – you said no, I didn’t either, I think we bounded. After that you offered your name. Still think it’s pretty. I offered you mine. You smiled once again. Don’t really remember the rest of the conversation, just remember we laughed a lot, even though I was trying to be tough – I was trying to impress you really.

I’m so glad I asked for your number that night. I reckon, if I didn’t, this would’ve been the biggest mistake of my life. I called you a taxi and made sure you got home save. Perhaps some thought I was weird: why would I care about some random girl getting home save, but you weren’t just some random girl. After your text I sent you another one wishing you sweet dreams, but you weren’t planning on sleeping just yet. I thought you’d leave me on read (I would still ask you out first thing in the morning), but you called me, I loved the initiative, it gave me much needed confidence. We talked all night long, I sometimes think back to that phone call when I couldn’t get enough of your stories, your voice, your laugh. It was 7 in the morning when we said our goodbyes because your phone was dying. But right before you hung up, I asked, asked to see you again. So, we did, we met that very evening. And I like to say that we were together ever since.

The first handwritten note you gave me was on our third date. I feel so foolish still. How couldn’t I see the signs? The signs you were giving me so I would kiss you. God, I wish I kissed you earlier than I did. We went to the theatre – I remember you mentioned that you wanted to go there but no one cares as much as you do so you were almost okay with the fact that you were missing on the production – as we were discussing the play while walking through the park near your place you stopped just for a sec when you saw the fountain still working at this late hour and you rushed to it nonchalantly grabbing my hand and leading me with you. You sat at the border and faced the water; your fingers coyly touched the water. My eyes were fixed on you. You looked up at me and playfully splashed me with a bit of water that was on your hand. We laughed – we always do – I sat next to you, I was so hesitant about kissing you (I think you saw that), you smiled and went through your purse, you finally found what you were looking for, you hand it to me still smiling. It was a paper napkin from the café we visited the day before. Inside it had the prettiest handwriting I ever came across. It read ‘will you kiss me already?’

I still have it. It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.

I don’t know if you’re going to read this letter or not, or if you manage to read to this point, but I hope you do.

I’m maybe a coward but I’m just scared that I’m going to lose you forever. I need you. I need you back.

Or I’m going wherever you are. I love you.

I hope shortly after you receive this letter we will meet. Just so you know I already bought the tickets. I’m going.

What I said that night you left… you know I was stupid? I am stupid. Need you to at least listen to me. If you don’t want to, it’s fine. But I hope you still have it in you.

Forever yours,

Calum

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