#I thought his face was hard to draw but then I had to draw his hair haha ha but guess what THE FINAL BOSS WAS HIS STUPID SUIT PATTERN

[enwoso]

Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid

CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti

"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.

“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.

“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.

poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.

you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.

and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.

you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.

chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.

now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.

“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.

“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’

“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.

“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”

“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.

“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.

“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.

“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.

“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.

“well he’s not wrong”

now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.

“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.

“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.

lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.

by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.

lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.

tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.

quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.

crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.

“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.

“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.

you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.

you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.

“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”

#awfc imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc #awfc x reader #woso appreciation #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso #lia walti #lia wälti #lia walti x reader #enwoso

[cordeliawhohung]

Of Sea Foam and Iron [3]

general masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap

a storm hits

wc: 3.9k

warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, mythology!au, nudity, talk of war and gore

Cold linens awaited you when you truly woke from your rest as John and Simon’s presence had dissipated.

There was no chin to rest against the top of your head, or a strong chest to press against your back. In fact, the only proof that they had ever been there at all was their lingering scent on your skin. You closed your eyes as soon as they fluttered open, trying to draw back the memory of their hands on your waist and the comforting weight that accompanied it. It was only a pale imitation of the real thing, and it left your chest yearning for something you knew you would never gain the courage to ask for. 

When your eyes opened for a second time, they did so with a great huff from your lungs. Pale sunlight and a strong breeze drifted through the cracks of the closed shutters, and though salt was always ever present in the air, you could smell the promise of rain hiding underneath the brine. It would be a good day to stay inside. 

Usually you didn’t need your himation in the warm summer months, but without the golden sun to warm the house, a heavy chill pricked at your body. You wrapped the thick wool around your shoulders before you descended downstairs on creaky steps. Simon was already hard at work for the day, and you hardly got halfway to the landing before you heard his hammer echo with its metallic clink in the courtyard. All Simon had done since the day the two of you were bound together in matrimony was work. In the beginning, you were certain that it was to distance himself from you — his unruly wife — but once John returned home you thought he would allow himself to rest. Yet, it seemed as if that’s all the man ever wanted to do. 

“Mornin’ little dove,” John grinned. 

A strong fire blazed in the central hearth of the home where dancing flames attempted to lick John’s back as he sat faced away from his hard work. Blue eyes sparkled with a warmth that rivaled the fire behind him, and you almost felt a smile flitter across your lips. There was nothing different from his gaze that morning compared to the previous day, yet his fingers twitched as they rested on his bent knees as if they searched for something.

“Morning,” you replied, voice meek as you adjusted your himation. 

Johnny’s hand slipped off of his knee where he patted the hearth next to him invitingly. “Come, get warm.” 

Your bare feet hardly made a sound against the floor as you crossed into the threshold. Each step brought the warmth of the flames along your legs where they dethawed your cold toes and fingers. John watched you with careful eyes as you situated yourself on the stone slab next to him, and he hummed once you settled. Heat prickled up your spine and it chased away the residual morning cold that clung to your body; though, you were unable to tell if that was because of the fire, or because of John. 

“Rain is coming,” he said. His head tilted back to look up at the ceiling as if it were the sky instead. “A storm, maybe.” 

Over the roaring of the fire behind you, a dull roll of thunder grumbled somewhere in the distance. It was not frequent that your city received storms, as Poseidon often smiled upon you. Though one could argue he was angry, if the storm was mild, perhaps he only sent the rain to assist with the farmers and their crops. 

“That would be nice,” you mused. 

John chuckled warmly. “You like the rain?”

“I think so,” you answered. “I like the water. The ocean.” 

“A fine thing to love.” 

Instinct told you to look at him, yet you refrained from doing so. Despite the familiarity in the tone of conversation, John was still a stranger to you. Some man who had returned only yesterday to embrace your husband while dressed to gut enemies. Still, he was kind, but despite the fire at your back, you were silent and cold. 

“I… wanted to talk more about yesterday,” John continued through your silence. “I’m sure you still have many questions, as Simon isn’t the most prolific.” 

“Prolific?” you repeated with your snark hardly restrained. “He’s spoken a handful of words to me since we’ve been married.” 

“Like I said, quiet,” he repeated with a poorly hidden laugh. “Though, I wasn’t much help prompting answers from him yesterday, either. Dead on my feet after traveling. Took us just short of a fortnight to arrive home.” 

John rubbed at his eyes as if the exhaustion still plagued his vision, and yet even with his movement you did not glance at him once. Looking at someone often brought a weakness about you that you had difficulty conquering. There was something about their eyes that had you see the humanity within them, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. You would have hated to crumble in front of him. 

“Well,” you prodded, “perhaps you can get an explanation out of him, then. He spoke not a word of your existence and then introduced you as my second husband? Such terrible madness.” 

“I already got an explanation out of him this morning while you slept,” he sighed. “Which is why I want to talk to you. I’m better at explaining things than Simon is.” 

Bewildered, you finally allowed your eyes to fall on John. “Must you be so casual about this? Was this not a surprise to you? Coming home to your husband having wedded himself illegally to someone else?” 

“Simon is not my husband.” 

Your expression betrayed the icy exterior you used to conceal that softness inside. It was difficult to tell if it was because of your confusion, but you found your heart aching at those words. John could not look at you when he said them, and though they left his tongue with ease his tone was soaked in a somberness that burned. 

“Soldiers aren’t permitted to marry,” he explained, blue eyes trained on the floor in front of him. “They say love gets in the way. Muddles things up. Soldiers have only one duty, and it’s to the state.” 

He paused.

“I would have liked to have married him.” 

If it wasn’t for the pain in his voice, you would have been afraid. The lost longing painted you to be the ruiner; the pitiful being that tainted something that had not gotten the opportunity to bloom. A desert-like dryness settled on your tongue. It tasted worse than sand. It was bitter, grainy, and promised to end you. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. 

“Don’t be,” John said with an attempt at humor. “I told him to find a wife. To get married. Have children. I would have hated for him to wait around forever just for me.” 

“Could you not have waited? I thought soldiers were only required to serve for two years,” you pondered. 

John hummed again. He did that often, as if song better suited his ideas than mere words. Thick fingers pressed into the joints of his wrists as he massaged tired muscles and traced faded scars before answering you. 

“Most only serve for two years, yes,” he concurred. “But, you don’t earn the name Ares’s Dog by serving the minimum. My heart is here in the city, but my home is in the viscera leftover from battle.” 

He paused as he twisted his torso to look behind him. A large hand reached for a split log in the pile just next to the fire, and John expertly tossed it into the flames. The fire cracked loudly, content with its meal. 

“No. I told him to marry, so it wasn’t quite the surprise when I came home and you were already here,” he explained as he repositioned himself. “Find a wife. Start a family. And if his wife would have me too, then I would stay. But it seems things weren’t that simple considering your… situation.” 

“Yes,” you concurred, voice soft. “It wasn’t… proper.” 

“Simon told me what your father had to do to protect you. I’m sorry you had to witness such gore,” Johnny consoled. “I understand why he would hastily marry you off to Simon if it meant having the protection you deserve. And, well, knowing Simon as well as I do, he didn’t hesitate at all in marrying you if it meant aiding you.” 

A scoff tore through your vocal chords so fierce it left a sour aftertaste on your tongue. John spoke of Simon as if he were Apollo himself, guiding the sun across the sky to bring light and warmth to the soil beneath your feet. You were certain that John’s feelings towards Simon weren’t unfounded at all, but though he had never been cruel or unkind to you in any way, he was not loving. Not to you, anyway. 

“Could have fooled me,” you spat. “I feel like a ghost in this house. At least he avoids me like one.” 

Despite your sour attitude and words, John only chuckled. 

“His love is strange, yes,” he said. “It’s still new to him; love. Being vulnerable. Something he was never granted before. He’ll keep his distance, if you let him. I swear to you, you’ll find no finer man than him.” 

Another roll of thunder shook the sky. It was stronger than the quiet whisper of one you heard minutes earlier, and it all but demanded attention. Both you and John looked up to the ceiling, and moments later the soft trickle of rain engulfed the house. Though none of the windows were open, you pulled your himation closer to you as if to stave off the breeze that beat at the shudders. The thick wool soaked up the heat of the fire like a sponge, keeping you well insulated despite the impending storm. 

A content sigh left John as he carefully pushed himself to his feet. Soft trails of goosebumps prickled across his skin as he stepped away from the fire and into the cold, but he didn’t stray far before turning to face you once more. His hands reached for you where they hovered in the air, patiently waiting for you to accept his offer. 

“Come. We should eat,” he urged.  

It was not your first time putting your hands in his. He always seemed to want to hold you and gently guide you as if you did not know any better. Still, you accepted his assistance as he pulled you from the hearth. Somehow, his hands were warmer than the flames, and though you were standing on your own, he refused to let you go. 

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said, blue eyes boring into you. “I told Simon to find a wife, and if she would have me, then I would stay. If you do not wish for me to be here, say the word, little dove. Your father might have wanted for you to be under my protection, but I will not share a bed with a woman who would want someone else. I will leave no mark on this place when I go, if that’s what you wish.” 

No response rose in your mind or throat at his reminder, but a heavy fit of remorse weighed on your chest. He spoke those words as if he were the intruder. As if he had not loved Simon and lived in that house long before you ever came around. It was difficult to tell if you had fully accepted the idea that you lived with two men; though even if you hadn’t, it was something your father obviously wanted for you. Still, even if you didn’t want him around, you would not deny him the flesh and warmth of his lover. 

“Stay,” you said, voice quiet. 

John’s smile was the warmest you had ever seen. No hint of lust or darkness; only a pure appreciation for your kindness, something you felt like you weren’t capable of those days. His tongue darted out between his lips as if in anticipation, and you ignored the way it made your stomach churn. 

“Then it is done.” 

Trickling rain continued into the afternoon before it started to swell into a proper storm. Whistling wind became near deafening as it threatened to pull the house apart, and it wasn’t until the sky was black with clouds that Simon finally ceased his work and took shelter inside. With the amount of water that dripped from his clothes when he came limping into the kitchen for lunch, you were surprised he hadn’t drowned out there. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead and down the nape of his neck, and his chiton clung to his body in a way that certainly wasn’t comfortable. His frigid skin tinged pink with his scars extra angry and puffy. 

Both you and John looked up from your food at the sopping wet mess of a man who dirtied the kitchen. Simon’s chest heaved with fatigue, and his feet hardly lifted from the ground as he meandered towards John. 

“How’s the weather?” John asked facetiously. 

“Frustrating,” Simon huffed. “Can’t keep a goddamn fire lit or burnin’ hot enough.”

He paused once he approached John’s side, eyes focused on the plate of food in front of him. Without a word, he snatched a fair size of cured meat off of it before taking a bite and turning around. Simon continued his pitiful shuffle as he exited the kitchen, shoulders hunched and legs shaking. John did not appear to mourn the loss of his food, yet his eyes stayed trained unwavering on his lover’s body as he rounded the corner. 

“He seems upset,” you noted. 

“He’s in pain,” John explained. 

A clash of thunder sounded just as John rose from his chair, and he left his plate behind as he began to rummage for something around the stove. Its embers ebbed and waved with brilliant scarlet light, and it almost danced to life in flames when John knelt before it. He retrieved two medium sized, semi-flat stones tucked into the stonework and placed them on the small hearth next to the dying embers. Nodding to himself, he then turned to you, worry etched deep in his face. 

“Wait a few minutes, then grab these stones and bring them up to our chamber,” he asked while his feet began to wander out of the room. “They’ll be hot, so grab them with cloth. Take care not to burn yourself.” 

Without another word, he vanished out of the room where you then heard his feet stomping up the stairs moments later. Rain refused to quiet nor waver even as you carefully cleaned up yours and John’s plate. 

Pain? Simon was in pain? Well, John could certainly read your husband better than you could, because you thought he had just been his regular self. Still, you supposed it wasn’t entirely impossible. With as many scars that afflicted his body, you were certain the damage ran deeper than just superficial marks on his skin. 

As instructed, you waited until the rocks had soaked plenty of warmth before using the edge of your himation to grab them. With careful hands, you trekked up the stairs to the second floor where you found John and Simon in bed together. A drenched chiton sat on the floor next to the bed, but Simon’s naked body still glistened with the memory of its moisture. His chest heaved and he grunted like an animal as he slung an arm over his face, hiding his eyes from the light of the oil lamp that flickered on the nightstand. 

John’s thumbs dug into the muscle around Simon’s knees, massaging them with what appeared to be less than gentle touch. Simon hissed, jaw flexing as his teeth grinded together, yet he kept still as the man worked at him. You approached the side of the bed with hands outstretched, hot rocks tucked together underneath thick wool sitting in your palms. 

“Is he alright?” you questioned.

John paused long enough to turn and grab the stones from your hands. His fingers didn’t flinch when he grabbed them, as if he was so used to the heat of them that it no longer phased him. 

“It’s the weather,” he explained. “The old wounds in his knees are aggravated by the change.” 

You watched with apprehension as John pressed the rocks against Simon’s skin, yet your husband didn’t flinch. The tense muscles that flexed in his thighs slowly began to soften as John moved the rocks carefully around his knee, tracing the long scar that dissected his skin. It was one of the first things you noticed about him the day you got married. Deep and ugly, it ailed him so bad he couldn’t walk straight because of it; forever bound to limp in weakness despite the strong stature his body would otherwise have you believe. 

Another smaller scar mirrored in perfect continuity on his other knee. It was not as deep nor as angry, but you could clearly make out the line in which both scars connected. A blade. It must have been. There was no other weapon that you knew of that could’ve created a scar such as that. His entire body, even his face, was littered with the unsightly marks. 

Why would a blacksmith have such scars? 

John moved from one knee to the next, warm rocks soothing away the ache so deep in Simon’s body that hands alone could not heal. You quietly stole a seat on the mattress next to Simon, and you carefully watched the mesmerizing motions of John’s circling hands. He was so… soft for a soldier. Considerate. It’s a side of man you weren’t used to seeing after witnessing such violence in your home. For a while, you thought love was just violence; blood waiting to be spilled. Perhaps love was just warm rocks against tired skin. 

“What happened?” you asked with eyes still trained on the old wound. 

John’s eyes glanced up at Simon, who wasn’t able to see his gaze through the arm slung over his face. As if he felt the burn of his eyes, the man shifted on the bed before letting out a heavy sigh. 

“Tell ‘er, Johnny. Know you like tellin’ the story,” he urged. 

A grin bloomed on John’s face as he turned his attention back to Simon’s knee. “He got this from saving my life.” 

Stunned, you shifted on the mattress to get closer, and your thigh brushed against Simon’s leg. How your husband could handle the cold of your chambers completely naked and half wet was beyond you. Your body yearned for any warmth it could steal. 

“I don’t believe it,” you countered. 

Really, you didn’t. How could John MacTavish, hailed hero of your city, need any sort of saving? You didn’t at all doubt Simon’s capability of saving someone; it was just the thought that John could ever find himself in such a precarious situation that you doubted. 

“I’d never lie to you, little dove,” John chuckled. “No, Simon and I served together, once upon a time ago. Trained together. Fought together.” 

He paused his story in order to switch knees again, returning to the one closest to him. Simon’s breathing had already calmed, and he no longer panted like a mad dog. Any tension that had been harbored in his body when you first entered the chambers had almost been completely washed away. 

“Years ago both of us had been deployed in a large-scale battle. It was a bloody skirmish with swords flailing every which way, I swear the glint of metal was brighter than the sun that day,” John recalled. “But there was this big brute who fought with a club. Rivaled the size of Simon, even, which isn’t easy. Bastard snatched the shield right out of my hands and knocked his club against my chin. Split me right open and knocked me out cold.” 

A hand instinctively covered your mouth as John shared the story, and he paused for a moment to look at you. He seemed to take some sort of boyish pride in your worry, and he tilted his chin up to put his own scar on display. You had hardly noticed it before due to his stubble and your active effort to not look too many people in the eyes, but it marked his skin as clear as day. It was deep, spanning from the front of his chin and curling underneath the right side of his jaw in an angry, red line. 

“I wasn’t out long, of course, but I wasn’t all there when I woke up,” he continued. “Felt like I was underwater, could hardly breathe. Bastard stood over me ready to bash my head in like a damn melon when Simon swooped in like an eagle. Sliced him to bits before he could do anything else to me. But war is messy and unforgiving. Several others piled on him, got him pretty good. Still killed the bastards.” 

“All but one,” Simon corrected. He had been so quiet you swore he had fallen asleep. “One of ‘em ran off.” 

“He killed the bastards that weren’t cowards,” John amended with a chuckle. “But they got his knees. Surprised infection didn’t take him. But Simon, my love, stubborn man that he is, carried me off the field even with his wounds.”

“Would you rather I dragged you?” Simon asked. 

“You should’ve left me there.”

“I love you too much for that.” 

The sound of rain smothered the conversation as both men fell silent. Rotten shame boiled deep in your stomach as your eyes carefully scanned Simon’s body. Over the weeks, you had gotten so used to his unabashed nakedness to the point it didn’t phase you, but that wasn’t what made you feel shameful; it was the realization of how bitter you had been. 

On the day of your wedding when Simon lifted your veil from your face, the only thing you could think was how ugly he was. The scars that littered his body were just eyesores, and his limp didn’t make him a paragon of strength. Hardly the man that was supposed to protect you from the wicked ways of the world. How cruel you were for thinking such a thing. For looking at the scars he earned saving the life of his lover as if they were an eyesore rather than proof of his devotion. How dare you look at him as anything less than he was; a man who loved?

In an attempt to swallow down your shame, you found your own hands reaching out for Simon’s knee. The heat of his skin felt nice against your frigid hands, but he flinched at the sensation. You paused as you looked up at his half obscured face, and you didn’t look away until you felt his muscles melt and relax underneath your touch. 

In silence, you mimicked John’s movements with your thumbs. Tendons and muscle danced underneath your fingertips as you did your best to massage the pain from your husband. With hands as weak as yours, you were certain it hardly did anything to help him at all. Still, you continued, and you prayed to the gods that he could feel your silent apology through your touch alone.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #f!reader

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(The Maze Runner) Imagine: He Protects You

It can be dangerous, especially for the only girl in the Glade.

Warnings: Guys being creeps in the Glade (nothing graphic), bullying, the Maze, danger.

. . .Thomas. . .

It’s a beautiful evening in the Glade.  You’re walking straight along the treeline on your way to run a final errand for Alby at the end of the day.  The sun is no longer visible, as it already descended far enough to be blocked by the walls.

Suddenly, you get the creeps.  It was hard to explain, but you feel goosebumps bloom along your skin, and you get the distinct feeling that you’re not alone.  The lovely glow of the bonfire is in your field of vision, but it’s so far away. It’s where most of the guys are gathered.  You can hear their distant whoops and hollers, reminding you that help is far away too.

A twig snaps, and your suspicions are confirmed.  There’s a figure following several feet behind you, lurking in the shadows cast from the trees above.

So, you veer off your original path to draw closer to the homestead where there would hopefully be someone who hadn’t made it to the bonfire yet.  Whoever it was must have caught on to what you were doing because they instantly pick up their pace.  You begin to hurry, increasing your speed so that they can’t catch you before you make it to what you hope will be a haven of safety.

Your heart is pounding, and your chest heaving with panicked breaths as you finally make it to the homestead.  

“Hello?” you call frantically.  

Suddenly, Thomas appears.  He sees your nervous state immediately, his hand taking yours.  But then his eyes lock onto something behind you, and he moves right past you to intercept your pursuer, effectively blocking them from you.

“What’s going on?” he demands.  Your follower is frozen to the spot, stuttering, failing miserably to offer up some sort of explanation.  Thomas steps forward, towering over the guy.  It’s plain to see that he is furious.  His forearms flex and his jaw is clenched.  You can hear his angry breaths as he speaks again.  “That’s what I thought.  Now, get out of here.”

As soon as the guy is gone, Thomas turns around to face you.  His close presence eases your fearful state when he steps into your space, filling your nose with his scent. “You okay?” he asks gently.

You manage a nod.

“We’re going to tell Alby right away.  This isn’t going to happen to you again.  Come here…” He carefully pulls you into his arms for an embrace, as if you’ll break apart if he’s too sudden. You bury your face in his chest, breathing a sigh of relief.  His heartbeat is close to your ears, like a lullaby.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

. . . Newt . . .

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The teasing, the taunts… The inability of certain individuals to just leave you alone.  Ever since you’d rejected him, Allan had made it his life’s mission to make your existence in the Glade all the more difficult.

Most recently, he had purposely bumped into you at lunchtime so that your meal was spilled all over your clothes and onto the ground.  Resources were limited in the Glade.  It was understood that wastefulness wouldn’t be tolerated.  You couldn’t afford to lose food or have clothing ruined.  Fortunately, your clothes would be fine after a wash, but the discarded food was a different story.

You dab at your tank top with a washcloth and pause to look at your reflection in the mirror.  It was all too easy to recall how quickly you’d reached your limit after Allan’s ridiculous ploy.  Your face is still wet from crying, eyes puffy, and lips parted as you took deep breaths.

There’s no use crying over spilled milk, you thought. Or in my case, spilled lunch.

After composing yourself, you decide it’s time to go back out there and face the music. You toss the damp rag aside and march determinedly out of the empty washroom.  To your surprise, you smack right into another individual coming in.  You instantly recognize the blonde hair and grumbles of complaint as he reels from the collision.

“Oi, shank, watch where you’re going-”  Newt quickly realizes it’s you and clamps his mouth shut, extending his hands to each of your shoulders to steady you gently.  He takes in the sight of your tear-stained face with his eyes showing clear concern.  “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, just… Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Newt looks far from convinced, and you lower your gaze.  He’s about to inquire further, but a familiar voice sounds from outside the washroom.

“Hey, _______!” Allan calls tauntingly, making you freeze up.  “How’s it going in there?”

Newt’s eyes instantly flash, and his face scrunches up anger.  You can hardly believe it when Allan continues.

“Sorry about my clumsiness earlier.  Maybe I can make it up to you.  Come on out before I go in there!”

Newt can’t contain himself anymore.  He turns on his heel and heads out of the washroom, and you follow behind just to see the look on Allan’s face when he realizes he’s been caught.

It is so worth it.  Allan’s stupid grin falls hard into a look of horror as the Second-in-Command approaches him furiously.  He doesn’t lay a hand on him, but he looks like he’s awfully close when he jabs a pointer finger in his direction.

“If I ever catch you bothering her, or even breathing in her general direction again, you’ll be a permanent Slopper for the rest of your time here in the Glade.  Do you understand, shank?”

Allan nods quickly, and doesn’t even wait to be dismissed.  He just hurries away, leaving you and Newt both standing there watching him flee.

“Coward,” he mumbles.  Then, Newt turns to you, resting a hand on your arm in a comforting gesture.  “I mean it, you know.  He’ll never bother you again.”

. . . Minho . . .

It’s hard not to panic when you glance up and can no longer see the sun above you. It’s the end of the day, and you’re nearly out of time.  The lightning pain that shoots through your ankle suddenly just becomes too much.  You lean against one of the ivy-covered walls and exhale.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it,” you say aloud, and the words weigh heavily on you.  You mentally scold yourself.  You can’t afford to think that way.  A Runner knows better.  With a wince, you continue limping on your way.  It’s not that the exit from the Maze isn’t close.  If memory serves you right (which it did), it wasn’t too far at all… but at your pace, it would take a lot of effort and some good luck to get you back in time.

Just when you are about to give up again, you hear footsteps rapidly approaching.  Your first thought is that perhaps your cowardly companion had a change of heart, but the footsteps didn’t match.

“Hello?” you call.

“_________!” Minho’s voice responds, and your heart swells with hope.  You aren’t out of the woods just yet, but your chances were much better with help. Minho nearly slides to a stop in front of you, instantly taking your arm and putting it around his broad shoulders to help you up.  There is no time to stop and compare notes, so you update him as he begins helping you back along the path.

“I sprained my ankle.” You hold onto Minho like he’s your lifeline as you push through the pain to keep up with his pace.  He’s right to go so fast.  Time is running out.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks with a grunt.

“He…he left me,” you gasp in pain.  “I think he was worried he wouldn’t make it out in time if he helped me.”

Minho goes quiet for a moment, and you can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.  His eyes are focused straight ahead at the path, and he huffs.  Finally, he bites out a sarcastic comment. “I think it’s safe to say that he’s getting demoted from being a Runner.”

You keep talking, trying to distract the both of you from the familiar groan of the Maze walls shifting.  “Why did you come out here?”

“Because it was getting late in the day, and no one had seen you,” he pants.  “Usually, you check in with me right away.  I knew something had to be wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You continue limping with all your might toward the gate, feeling your heart jump, as the walls on either side begin their agonizingly slow crawl to a close.  There’s a small group standing on the other side, ushering you both out anxiously.  It was mostly Keepers, a select few who had been informed of the problem by Minho.

The two of you fell onto the green grass, gasping for breath, while the others surrounded you.  Alby knelt down beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder.  You just let yourself breathe, tears welling up in your eyes from relief.

“So it’s true?” Gally questioned, brows raised.  “Derek left her in there.” “Yes,” Minho replied, sitting up.  “And he will face the consequences.”  He looked over at you, finally catching his breath.  “You’re safe now.”

. . . Gally . . .

James had been haunting your steps for far too long.  He was always there, always hanging around, and sometimes showing up at the most alarming of instances.  What could be done about it?  It wasn’t as if he’d taken severe enough action to warrant disciplinary measures, you thought.  He was only ever seen staring at you, smirking, and just being an all-around jerk at times.

This time, he’d snatched your tools away from your working station while your back was turned. After uncovering a particularly tough old root, you turned around to get a spade to chop it up, only to see that your things were gone.

A few laughs caught your attention, and you glanced over to see James and one of his shadows standing there, staring at you from several feet away.  You couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed like they had something to do with your missing tools.

So, now you’re debating with yourself on the best course of action.  Do you ignore him and try to rustle up some extra tools from Newt or Zart?  Or do you bother to give this shank the attention he’s so desperately seeking to get your stuff back?

You don’t really like the latter option.  Frankly, James gives you the creeps. The last thing you want is to play his little game… But every minute that you spend deliberating is wasted time that could be put towards helping the Glade.

As much as you despise indulging him, you find yourself marching right over to his work area.  Both James and his minion are laughing in amusement, shoving each other at the sight of you approaching.

“Do you know where my tools went?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I might,” James replies cryptically.  “And I might be willing to strike up a bargain for that information.”

You fold your arms across your chest.  “What could you possibly want?”

“Ohh, I don’t know…Perhaps a kiss will do.”

You make a face as the disgust hits you.  “Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a ‘no’ for me.”  You wave off the concept, turning around.  You decided that your best bet is to find some spare tools.  This just wasn’t worth all the trouble.  Just as you start to leave, James comes running around to block you.

“Hey now, I didn’t say you could go.”

“Yeah, you might want to think about his offer,” James’ lackey said from behind you.  The two of them close in, and you clench your fists in preparation to fight.  If you make enough commotion, you’re sure that someone will notice and come to your aid.

You give him one last chance.  “Let me pass.”

“Come on, just one kiss.  Unless you want more than one after that-” to your relief, James is cut off by a new voice interjecting.

“What’s going on here?” The three of you turn to see Gally standing there, sweating from whatever project he was working on,with dirt and wood shavings on his clothes.  His expression looks expectant as he waits for an explanation, though his tall and bulky form makes him appear positively dangerous as he stares the two guys down with his hands resting on his hips.

“I, uh.. We…”  They break off in stutters and fumbled words.

“I’m fairly certain they have my tools,” you say, and Gally’s famous arched brows raise at the two guys in disbelief.

“Is that so?” As Gally walks forward, he plants his palms harshly on James’ shoulder, shoving him clear out of the way. James stumbles unceremoniously, almost falling straight into the grass.  Gally walks over to the bench and pauses.  He picks up a bundle of leather and tosses it to you, the tools rattling inside.  “Are those yours?”

You recognize it immediately.  “Yes, these are the ones.”

“You shanks had better never even speak to her again.  Understand?” He stares at each of them pointedly with all the authority of a Keeper, and they both nod.  With that, Gally walks up to you and ushers you away with a warm, gentle hand on your back protectively.

“Your timing was impeccable,” you say quietly.  “Thank you.”

“They won’t bother you again.  I’ll make sure of it.”

“I think you already have,” you chuckle.

#maze runner #maze runner imagine #maze runner reader insert #maze runner x reader #gally x reader #minho x reader #newt x reader #thomas x reader #the maze runner #maze runner gally #maze runner newt #maze runner thomas #maze runner minho #minho imagine #thomas imagine #gally imagine #newt imagine #maze runner fanfiction #tmr #tmr reader insert #tmr newt #tmr thomas #tmr minho #tmr gally #tmr x reader

[yunhoszn]

to hell with it

pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry

summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.

more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!

@atzhouse

“shit.”

the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.

it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 

you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 

and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…

“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 

your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 

the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)

you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)

he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 

but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  

“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.

“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”

the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 

not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 

Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 

“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 

Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 

“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 

No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 

“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”

he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 

this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—

fuck.

you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 

This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 

maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 

you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.

wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.

before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.

”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.

”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”

wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.

Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.

“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”

just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?

“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.

”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.

”this is—“

”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”

you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?

”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“

”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”

you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.

”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“

”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.

batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.

wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 

your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 

If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.

it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.

“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”

the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 

he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 

“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 

“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”

“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”

“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 

“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”

you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 

a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 

but enough is enough. 

placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 

you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.

your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 

his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 

you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 

he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 

wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 

your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 

“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“

“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 

“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”

the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 

his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)

“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”

you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.

wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 

the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.

with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.

you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.

”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”

at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.

”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.

”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”

“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.

you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”

he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”

your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”

”goodnight!”

her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.

“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”

if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 

but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 

your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 

having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”

he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 

you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 

wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 

the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 

as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.

“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.

”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 

“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”

wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.

”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”

you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 

at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#atzhouse #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez wooyoung #ateez jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #yunhoszn

[rafesfavgirl]

with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238

#rafe cameron #rafe #obx #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe fluff #cute rafe #obx fic

[alllgator-blood]

The way you draw Narinder infuriates me. And that isn’t meant as an insult. Every time you draw his smug face it pisses me off so bad, and based on your other posts about him I think you do it on purpose. So I want to tell you that it’s working. He ruins my day every time. And I really love your art style.

Okay you had me in the first half, I was SO sure this wasn't going anywhere pleasant but I started laughing my ass off as soon as I got to the third sentence. THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M GOING FOR WHEN IT COMES TO NARINDER, just a guy that you want to tie into a pretzel out of anger and throw into a brick wall because you'd do anything to wipe that smug grin off his face. But he just keeps on smiling......because he KNOWS his job as the death god means he's technically too important to be killed off. Bro can get away with aNYTHING and it's the WORST!!

I posted the leshy autism shirt thing earlier and it's actually from a sketch dump of all the bishops wearing stupid shirts I found on the blog "shirts that go hard", here's the narinder one especially for you because he pisses me off too </3

(idk why it's a crop top I just thought it'd be funny, plus he's way taller than everyone else so I don't think regular clothes would fit him right)

#cotl #narinder #the one who waits #cult of the lamb #I literally could not tell you why I characterize him like this besides “it's funny” #he just seems full of himself in-game!!!!!!

[obsessedwrhys]

MAGNETIC LOVE

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Raiden develops a crush on the waitress who works at Madam Bo's (fluff, Raiden being hopelessly in love, Kung Lao is the wingman??, I know this trope has been used a lot but this is my take on it, reader is fem!!)

ᯓ★

Being Earthrealm's champion can be exhausting sometimes, so he figured, what's better than to take a break at one of the places that reminds him when times were simpler.

However, the problem was that he didn't expect to end up spending half of his time at the restaurant staring at the waitress Madam Bo had hired just recently. He was staring so much that he lost track of time.

In defense, how could he not?

Your smile was intoxicating and your eyes were mesmerising.

The way you worked fast yet elegantly.

And how he would catch a whiff of your perfume when you walked past his table.

Everything about you was drawing him in and he hasn't even asked for your name yet nor did you even know anything about him.

Just as he spends another of his free days at the restaurant, technically just there to watch you work, he suddenly felt a hand pat him on the shoulder. He looked over his shoulder to see it was Kung Lao.

"So this is where you go to when you're not busy" He said as he took the chair beside him.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"It's not hard to track you down when you know so little places" He said, relaxing in his chair until he notises the plate of food on the table.

It was untouched and already growing cold. This peaked interest in him since he never does this. To be honest, who could say no to Madam Bo's food?

"Do you just come here everyday to waste food? What a customer you are" Kung Lao jokes and Raiden struggles to find the right words to say, but the second you stepped in frame, his eyes darted towards you which Kung Lao easily followed suit.

It didn't take long for him to understood what was happening.

"Oooohhh... I get it now. You have a crush on the waitress working here, huh?" He nudges him with a teasing smirk.

"Is it that obvious?" Raiden asks.

"Uh... yeah. Judging by how you looked at her just now, I'm pretty sure everybody knows" Kung Lao pointed out how his face seemed to light up the moment he looked at you.

Hearing him say that, Raiden couldn't help but steal a glimpse of you wiping a nearby table clean after disposing all the dirty plates into the sink. The way the strands of your hair fell from behind your ear and you quickly tucking it back in place made him swoon even more.

"You're doing it again...! Have you not said a thing to her? Not even a hello?" Kung Lao grabbed him by the shoulders to force him to focus on him.

Raiden simply shakes his head at his question.

"I've thought about it but I'm not sure if I want to disrupt her working hours"

"Well she doesn't work ALL the time. You can just wait for her to finish her shift. Wow, are you that in love that your brain stopped working?" Kung Lao said, poking him by the shoulder playfully.

"It's not as easy as it seems"

"That's just you" Just then, Kung Lao got up from the chair causing it to screech a bit against the wooden floor.

"Welp, I better get going. Unlike you, I managed to score myself a date with someone. Good luck" He said with a strong pat on the shoulder before leaving.

He had to admit, he could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest just considering the suggestion. As far as he knows, he's good at starting up a conversation with anyone, it's just he'll be doing it to you and the thought alone makes him nervous.

What if this wasn't the first time a customer tried to get with you? Considering how attractive he found you to be, you must have dealt with this situation a lot. So that means you've rejected a lot of people or...

Maybe you were already dating someone??

He gulps at the thought and tried to brush off the feeling by drinking his tea. Well he doesn't see a ring so you can't be married. No matching jewelleries or anything. So you can't be taken yet right?

All this overthinking was doing anything but help him. Maybe he'll just ask you... riggght after he's done boosting himself up.

By the time the sun was setting and that the sky has gone pinkish orange, you grabbed your bags from the locker after changing back into your casual clothes.

It was already an exhausting day, it's a relief you didn't have to deal with any rude customers.

Just as you left the restaurant, you were suddenly approached by a man. A customer actually. You recognised him easily since he always ordered the same thing.

"Hi" He greeted you with a smile and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Hello"

For an awkward moment, you two were just smiling at each other until he finally realised he was supposed to say something next.

"I'm Raiden"

"(Y/N)"

Another awkward silence drops upon you. You're starting to feel like he's not good at starting conversations.

"Did you want to talk to me about something?" You asked and he had to blink a couple of times to snap out of his head.

"Well uh... I just wanted to get to know you..."

"Oh?" You were surprised at his answer and he couldn't help but wonder if it was a good surprise or a bad surprise.

"I hope I don't come off as a creep"

"Ehh... well... to be fair you've been staring at me as I worked these days" You said as you awkwardly avoided his gaze and he swore he almost choked when he heard you.

So you knew all this time and you never did anything about it? Now it just makes him feel even more of a creep.

"But I asked and Madam Bo told me a lot about you, she says you're a good person and that you're very kind" You smiled at him and it eased his nerves a bit.

"What else did she say?"

"She also told me to make you stop coming to the restaurant because of how she's fed up with you not eating your food when it's hot but only when it's cold. She says its a disgrace to her cooking" You said and it made him chuckle softly.

"She said that?"

You nodded.

"Will I be blacklisted?" He asks and you pretended to reconsider the consequences but it also seemed like you were playing around with him.

"I guess you won't be... if you ask me out for dinner" You said and he felt his heart flutter for a second.

"Well then... do you happen to be free now?" He asks which had you grinning.

"Mm... I don't have plans tonight but it depends on where you're taking me"

"I know a good restaurant around the block. It'll be my treat, what do you say?" He said, his behaviour seeming to appear more layback and confident.

"How can I say no to free food?" You chuckled and it just made the smile on his face grew wider.

Days later, you would find yourself frequently taken on dates after your shift. Sometimes they were fun and sometimes they were romantic. Either way, it was perfect. You didn't think you'd fallen for the guy but you did. He was really everything Madam Bo said, except for the fact that he short circuits whenever he's flustered, which you easily found adorable.

All this effort and you two haven't even made it official yet.

On another working day, you stood by the desk as you accept the customers payment. Once you were done, you saw a couple more customers enter but one of them caught your eye immediately. You grabbed your pen and notebook to take their orders. As you approached their table, his eyes were focused on you straight away.

"Welcome to Madam Bo's, what would you like to eat?" You asked, trying to stay professional.

"I have to admit Raiden, this place is great!" His friend with the glasses spoke.

"You're just saying that because he promised you money if you agreed to come" The man with a blindfold (?) said .

"We'll just have the usual" Raiden said to you as the two went on bickering. You nodded and shoot him a playful smirk before delivering his order to the kitchen.

By the time their food was done and after you served it to them. You just went on doing your work but you couldn't help and turn your head every now and then to see him eating or chatting with his friends. Honestly you found it ironic how the tables have been turned. Now you were the creep watching him do his thing.

The second the sun setted, you grabbed your stuff and left the restaurant once you were finished with helping Madam Bo close it. However as you waited at the door for Raiden to pick you up for one of your dates, you didn't see him anywhere. Was he too busy with his friends that he forgot?

Feeling a bit disappointed but trying not to let it ruin your mood, you decided to head home. Though it took you only a few steps until you heard someone call out to you. With a knowing smile on your face, you turned to the other way to see Raiden running towards you, a hand hidden behind him as he was obviously holding a bouquet.

"Is that for me?" You nodded at the flowers and he seemed embarrassed that his surprise was already blown.

"Yeah... I had to run to the other side of town because the shop I usually buy from was out of stock" He handed it to you and you could see a clear view of the variety of flowers.

"Romantic" You smiled as you took it from him.

"I'm glad you like them... but I need to ask you something..." He said, his body language shifting from tired to serious. You look up at him with intrigue.

"I hope these past few days have been great for you but all these moments we've shared. I can't help but wonder if you feel like there's more to it" He said, his eyes never cutting contact with yours. You blush.

"Are you asking me if we're exclusive?" You said and your forwardness made his heart beat faster.

"Yes"

"Do you want it to be?"

"More than anything" His answer delivered without hesitation.

You stare at him... your lips soon forming a genuine smile.

"Then there's no point in denying it... we're official" You said. For a second he seemed to be frozen in time but you noticed how his eyes also sparkled with joy.

"Oh um... well... that was easier than I thought... does that mean you're still up for dinner?" He asks, trying to calm himself from how happy he was, he could feel his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much.

"Yes, but this time, I'll pay for us. My treat" You pat him on the chest before walking off and he could only chuckle as he quickly catches up to you.

You were definitely something...

#IMMA NUT #DO IT JIGGLE? #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 raiden #mk1 x reader #mk1 x you #mk1 x y/n #mk1 raiden x reader #raiden x reader #raiden #raiden x you #raiden x y/n #raiden x reader fluff #mk1 fluff #x reader #fluff

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter Six

(AO3 Link) | Master List

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You)

Word Count: 3800 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT). Jealous Astarion, lake scene.

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A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content)

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A/N: Splish splash I was takin' a bath...

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Chapter Six - Splash

Picking a semi-dry spot in the soil, you try not to spill your wine as you lower yourself into a cross-legged position. Astarion does the same beside you, much more gracefully, stretching his legs out and resting his weight on his arms behind him. For a moment, you both take in the serenity of the lake, not injecting a word into the comfortable silence. You focus on your breathing, then on his. The rhythm almost matches, but the more you focus on it, the more irregular it becomes.

“So, the story?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes… Turns out I’m being hunted. Or, was...” He replies, nonchalantly.

You turn to him in confusion. “Hunted? You specifically?”

He nods and looks at you for a moment. His smile leaves his eyes but not his lips as he inspects your face. He sighs and looks down. “I corrected you last night. I told you that I’m a vampire spawn. Remember?”

“What’s the difference?”

He scoffs at your naivety, shaking his head. “Everything. A true vampire has power. A spawn… Is a slave- no, less than a slave. Our master speaks, our bodies react…” He takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “My ma-... old master is Cazador Szarr, a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. He turned me two-hundred years ago, and for two-hundred years, he has been my tormentor… He wants me back...”

You nod, thoughtfully. It’s hard for you to picture a man so well kept and confident in such a position. Then something clicks. “Szarr… As in, Szarr Palace?”

He cocks his head in intrigue. “The very same. You know it?”

“Yes. Or, at least, the outside of it. I was never allowed in… It always looked so grand. To think, it’s been crawling with vampires this whole time…” You look to the floor as unpleasant memories flash before you: Hands. Dragging you along as you tripped on cobbles, the thunk of palace doors, the sun drying your lips as you waited for hours at a time, not allowed to sit, not allowed to move, not allowed to think…

Astarion furrows his brow in concentration as he inspects your face, desperately trying to remember if he has (and praying he hasn’t) seen you before. You snap yourself out of your spiral and are startled by the intensity of his eyes. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing…” He looks away and you do the same.

A moment of contemplation passes as you draw patterns with your finger on your knee. “I’m sorry… Two-hundred years, it-... it sounds awful.”

He rolls his eyes, flippantly, clearly reluctant to accept your sympathy. “Ugh… Well… Thank you, darling.” He leans back a little, silently thankful that the difficult sharing portion of the conversation is over.

The side of your mouth curls into a subtle grin. His stubbornness is endearing, in a way, and you suppose you can hardly blame him, the last thing you would want is pity either. So, you decide to move onto the facts of the situation: “How did you escape?”

“I was in the middle of er- doing Cazador’s bidding when the mind flayers snatched me. Ever since I was infected with this tadpole, his commands haven’t been able to reach me.” He can’t help but smile as he tips wine into his mouth.

“Hm, that’s lucky.” You are about to take a sip of your own wine when you decide to raise the cup in a toast instead. “To being lucky.”

He chuckles, softly and clinks the cups together. “To being very fucking lucky.”

After swallowing the tart wine, you trace your finger around the rim of the cup in thought. You want to ask him why he’s telling you this, but before you can speak the words, he stands and walks closer to the lake. His hands find the hem of his bloodied shirt and he begins to lift it. “Woah! What are you doing?!” You cover your eyes with your hand.

He pauses his motion and laughs. “Well, as lovely an accessory as the blood of my enemies is, I don’t fancy wearing it throughout the night.”

“Oh, right, okay, I’ll let you get on with it then.” You stand, still blocking your vision and start backing away, using your free hand to feel out for any obstacles.

Then cold, smooth fingers wrap around yours. “Darling, not to be rude, but when was the last time you bathed?” Your eyes widen behind your hand and you sniff under your arm…

Okay… It has been a while…

“I won’t look, I promise. Not unless you want me to.” He purrs, the sound of his voice making you blush and scoff. Then you feel something solid placed in your hand. It’s cube shaped and a little slippery. You brush your thumb over it, popping tiny bubbles on it’s surface. Soap. The thought of bathing next to each other is both incredibly enticing and terrifying. You wonder if you can truly trust him not to look, or if this whole thing is just some manipulative, gross attempt for him to get in your pants. But presently, you can’t even read his face. No, it’s too much, too soon. You can’t do this… At least… Not alone…

You pretend to be unaware of his intentions and pray to all the gods that he can’t see through your feigning of innocence. “Hold on, I’ll ask the others.”

“The others?” You feel his grip on your hand loosen.

“Surely, it’s been a while for everyone. You weren’t planning on keeping me all to yourself now, were you?” You smirk and turn away, removing your hand and allowing vision to return to your eyes. You hear him chuckle as you saunter off towards camp.

The others agree to join you, with Gale nodding a little too eagerly. “Yes!” Karlach fist pumps the air in excitement as Shadowheart looks up at her, smirking. Even Lae’zel takes you up on the offer, quickly retrieving her things with a seductive gaze towards Wyll, who bashfully agrees too. Together, you make your way back to the lake; towels and soap in hand.

The water is up to Astarion’s chest, concealing everything but his pale shoulders from your view. Just as he notices you and begins to grin, he is immediately consumed by a wave crashing into him, followed by Karlach’s cackles. Somehow she is already in nothing but her underclothes and bobbing her head above the surface, revelling in the feeling of crisp, cold water soothing her blazing skin. “Come on! Get in!” She shouts. Astarion’s head appears again, curls straightened by the weight of the water and flopping over his face, you can’t help but laugh. Shadowheart and Lae’zel waste no time and follow in Karlach’s footsteps, swiftly undressing and stepping into the water. Lae’zel looks behind her at Wyll and beckons him with a gesture of her hand. He clears his throat and begins to unbutton his shirt.

Suddenly, warm breath tickles your ear. “Can I tell you a secret?” Startled, you look behind you to see Gale, cheeks red and bashful. “I’m a tad nervous about all this…” He definitely looks like it, it’s sweet. You smile warmly then take a step back and look him up and down. He’s clearly an attractive man and that robe, although humble, clings to his soft yet somehow firm physique. “W-what is it?”

“Just surprised that you are nervous about this, that’s all.” You smirk at him, playfully.

He chuckles. “Ah, well, thank you,” He tucks his hair behind his ear. “But that’s not it, exactly. It’s just a bit… Exposing…”

You nod, understandingly. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“Yes, don’t worry, I am well aware. But gods, if I’m totally honest… Tav, I stink.”

You giggle. “Me too. Come, we can do it together.”

You hold out your hand and lead him closer to the lake where you begin to undo your pants, not seductively in any way, just like you would if you were alone in your tent. But that doesn’t stop Gale from having to clear his throat and pull his eyes away from you to undo his robe, revealing the white wrap shirt and leather pants beneath. As you slide off your trousers over your plump thighs and step out, your, now untucked, burnt orange shirt flows halfway over your rear. You stand straight and struggle with the tight fastenings of your shirt. You sigh, annoyed at the effort. “Do you… Um… Need help?” Gale asks, sheepishly. You chuckle and nod, stepping closer. He tries to maintain his composure as he reaches for the knot above your chest. You look up at him, amused by his embarrassment.

You notice the several difficult knots that hold his wrap shirt together. “Thanks, um… Do you need help?”

“Oh-um… Yes, please. Thank you.” You smile and work on undoing the shirt until it’s hanging off his body. He pulls away and shrugs off the fabric. You lift yours above your head, feeling his eyes on your body as your vision is momentarily blocked by the linen of your shirt. Once you can see again, he’s already looking away.

Taking his hand again, you step into the water together. It’s delightfully warm, thanks to Karlach who’s having a splash fight with Shadowheart not too far away. You close your eyes and sigh as the water soothes aches and embraces skin. Gale, too, revels in the feeling, wading a little further into the lake, letting go of your hand as the surface swallows his body up to his chest. Opening your eyes at the loss of contact, you follow him. His eyes find yours again, smiling, grateful for your company. You smile back, eyes trailing down his face and focusing on the design between his collarbones. You mustn’t have been very subtle about it as you see his hand emerging from the water to touch it.

“It’s pretty.”

He smiles. “Thank you… It’s not here by choice though, I’m afraid.”

“Is it something to do with that bomb-thing in your chest?”

He furrows his brows in surprise and confusion. “How did you…” You gesture towards Astarion who’s washing himself at a distance from the rest of the group, sulking. “Ah…” Gale looks down, irritated, an emotion you haven’t seen from him before. “I didn’t give him permission to tell you about that… But,” He sighs, letting his hand drop beneath the water again. “Oh well, you know now…”

You bite your lip in regret, you didn’t want to cause any rifts between them. You try to save it. “I don’t know much, just that it’s there and you have to consume magical items to stop it from killing us all.” You avoid the topic of Mystra, unsure of how he would feel about you knowing about her.

He chuckles at your blunt delivery. “That’s certainly a simplified way of putting it…” He takes a deep breath, clearly feeling a little awkward and lathers his soap, offering you the bar to do the same. You take it and scrub the bubbles into your skin. 

You avoid looking at each other as you wash yourselves, then after a loud silence, he cuts through it. “Would you believe me if I told you it was all my fault?” You look at him with a raised eyebrow and shrug. He laughs. “Fair enough, I suppose you don’t know me all that well yet… It was an accident. I was trying to impress someone, but it went too far.” He shakes his head in shame.

“A girl?” You ask with a teasing smirk.

He laughs again. “A goddess. My goddess. Although, I don’t think she’d appreciate me calling her that anymore. I was one of her chosen… And later, her lover.” He pauses for effect, as painful as it is to relive the memories, he can’t resist a humble brag. You raise an eyebrow and  nod slowly, understandingly and not wanting to press him for more information. As much as you want to ask about it and as hard as it is to believe that a mere mortal can satisfy a goddess, his wounds seem too fresh. “When she found out what I’d done, she cast me aside. We haven’t spoken since.” His slight smile drops and he stares into the rippling water.

“I’m sorry… It sounds like you were really close.”

He nods, taking a deep breath. “Yes, well, that was then. And, I suppose, this is now.” He looks up at you and offers a bittersweet smile, you return it.

The moment is interrupted by a large splash of water over you both, startled, you look around, frantically, and find Astarion, closer than before, making his way past you, heading to the shallow end. “Whoops.” He states, unconvincingly. You scoff at his pettiness.

“Excuse me, Gale. I’m getting the slightest feeling that someone wants my attention. I’ll see you later.” He goes to say something, but instead he smiles and nods, resuming his bath. You, however, charge full steam ahead through the water, following Astarion.

The surface lowers as you move, revealing more and more of your body, concealed only by your underclothes. “Oi! Get back here!” He laughs, pleased to hear that you’re following him. The cold air hits your chest and you start to shiver, eager to submerge yourself back into the warm water, but you’re determined now and Astarion annoyed you. You follow the back of his head as his shoulders become a torso, above the water. You stop. You stop because you see them.

Scars.

Gods above…

Raised and red, curving into circular, indecipherable language. An abhorrent marking of possession. Of property. Between painful lines are glimpses of untouched, undefiled skin. A fractured memory of what it was before. It’s terrible, it’s tragic, it’s poetry and it’s torture.

He hears your halt in movement and turns around, eyes already low and prepared to gaze at your form, which he does. He follows your lines until he meets your face. Your eyes are wide, lips are parted, brows are knitted. It’s something he never wanted to see on your sweet face: Pity. For a moment he forgot about it, the burden he carries, the weight on his back. He’s shocked to realise it and even more shocked to realise this isn’t the first time it’s happened when he’s around you. But he pushes the thought aside and clears his throat. He looks away in shame, suddenly feeling creeping vulnerability on his exposed skin.

SPLASH!

With no time to react, Astarion is engulfed in a wave of surging water. It’s not enough to knock him over, like Karlach’s, but it’s enough to drench him again. He gasps and wipes his eyes, peaking through the blur to see your determined grin and readied stance. You might be shit on the battlefield, but this is no typical fight. This is a motherfucking water fight.

He laughs, relieved to have the moment of tension broken. It’s infectious and you giggle along with him, momentarily lowering your guard. A mistake.

SPLASH!

“Oh, you motherfu-!”

SPLASH!

He cackles at your sopping wet state, slicking back his hair, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Each time he tries to open his eyes, he sees your hair dripping and sticking to your fierce, determined face, setting off another bout of laughter. You giggle for a moment, appreciating the unrestrained sound that rumbles from deep within his chest. “Alright, alright, it’s not that funny.”

He half regains his composure. “Oh but it is, darling. It really is.”

You flick him with the drops that formed around your fingertips. He scrunches his face in a delightful way as they hit him and chuckles. In retaliation, he cups his hands and lowers them below the surface until they’re full, and moves closer, taunting you with it. “Nooo! No! No! Don’t you dare!” You scream and laugh, frantically wading backwards through the water to get away from him. He follows closely, laughing at your panic as he raises his hands over your head, preparing to drop it. You try to duck away but he lets go at just the right time. You narrow your eyes up at him through the drops cascading down your face. He smugly peers down at you, chuckling softly. For a moment, you both just stay there, laughing at each other, dripping with lake water.

Then all of a sudden, he’s leaning in. No, he’s throwing himself at you. No, he’s… Falling? His face lights up with panic as he’s forced forward, you hold your arms out, bracing yourself for the impact. “Shit, sorry!” cries Wyll. Astarion tries to grab onto your shoulder to steady himself but it’s not enough and he crashes into you anyway, pushing you down with him. The water, although shallow enough to comfortably stand in, is deep enough that lying flat isn’t really an option. You’re submerged in the water, the gasp you took as you fell, being the only air in your lungs. Your head hits the rocky ground with a muffled yelp. An arm curls around your waist, pulling you up for air. You inhale and cough.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, just bumped my head. But, I’m fine.” Moving your hand up to rub the injury, you’re surprised to touch a colder hand, already rubbing it better. You wipe the water from your eyes and open them to find a heavy breathing Astarion over you, scanning your face with fierce concern. You take in the sight of his worried, wide eyes: a change from his usual, steel-crafted mask. His fingers find the sore spot on your crown and massage it in circles. He’s doing it a little too hard and so you wince, but don’t stop him. It’s a strange sight, a strange experience to watch him do this. One you can’t quite pull your eyes away from.

“Oh, gods, Tav! Are you alright?! I’m so sorry!” Wyll rushes to your side. You flick your eyes to him and notice a new addition to his skin: peppered hickeys along his neck and collarbone. You can only assume what he and Lae’zel were up to before knocking you both over with such force. A badly stifled snort of laughter emerges from you, causing Astarion to look at Wyll in confusion, only to fall into the same trap and start laughing himself, but he doesn’t bother trying to hide it. Wyll follows your eyes and covers his neck with his hand, bashfully.

Lae’zel steps behind him, looking down at the little gathering impatiently before speaking. “Wyll. I don’t like waiting. And I wasn’t finished tasting you.” Her words inspire another intense, red blush on Wyll’s cheeks and a roar of laughter from you and Astarion.

You compose yourself enough to get some words out. “I’m fine, really. Don’t let me stop your… ‘Tasting’.”

As Wyll clears his throat, nods and shuffles away with Lae’zel, you return your attention to Astarion, still hovering over you and chuckling at them. Once you become a little too aware of his knee, sitting between your thighs, you decide it’s time to stand up. “I-um, I can probably get back up now.”

“Hm? Oh, of course.” He quickly retreats, his hand slips away from your scalp and you shiver at the gentle loss of contact. Now standing, he holds his hand out for you. You take it, sliding your palm into his and letting him hold your weight as you lift yourself out of the water.

As you emerge once again, he avoids gazing at your body, with effort. You giggle. “It’s alright, it’s not like Gale didn’t get an eye-full earlier.” His eyes narrow at the thought but turns it into a smirk. You grin right back and turn around, wringing out your hair, flipping it back and intentionally whipping him with it. He playfully scoffs. You turn your head, looking at him over your shoulder. You take the moment to subtly glide your gaze over his lean, toned body. Porcelain skin, gleaming in moonlight. Before you lose yourself in the sight, you look away.

In turning back to him and noticing that his eyes are nowhere near locked on yours, he reminds you that he’s not the only one exposed. You, too, are down to nothing but your underwear, and he seems to like it. For a moment, you consider covering yourself, but instead you choose to embrace it, resting your weight on one hip. “So, you, very rudely, interrupted our conversation and now you have my attention. What did you want?” He yanks his eyes away from your body and flicks them back to your face. He clears his throat and begins to speak but can’t find the words. He didn’t think that far ahead, he just knew he wanted you to look at him. 

“I was just trying to save you from whatever tedious trivia Gale was, no doubt, spewing.” He shrugs and smirks. You chuckle and shake your head. “It was a delightful conversation, actually. Thank you very much.”

“Ah, then by all means, my dear!” He gestures towards Gale, knowing you won’t turn back now.

You grin and walk towards the shore. “Actually, I think I should probably get out before I turn into a prune.”

He watches as you pass him, pondering whether or not to follow. You step on cold soil and reach for your towel, patting away the moisture on your body and scrunching your hair, encouraging the natural waves to bounce back. You turn back, towel now secured around your chest to observe the scene before you: Gale rinsing out his hair and making his way to shore, Astarion drying himself in the corner of your vision, Shadowheart making a pathetic attempt at a backstroke and Karlach hovering, coaching and cheering her on. Wyll and Lae’zel are nowhere to be seen.

Probably for the best…

You smile at the sight and make your way back to your tent, soaking in the scent of burnt wood from the remnants of the campfire. On the way, you spot Scratch, curled up by the entrance of Karlach’s tent, snoozing away. Ducking under your tent flap, you slip off your towel, undress and wrap yourself snugly in your bedroll.

Hesitant, shuffling footsteps approach, followed by a hesitant, warm voice. “Goodnight, Tav. I… I enjoyed talking to you tonight. Thank you… For listening.”

You smile. “Goodnight Gale, I enjoyed listening.” With a deep breath, he walks away and the flap of his tent is the last thing you hear before a new set of footsteps take his place.

These are stronger, bouncier, unashamed of the space they occupy. They stop outside your tent and for a moment, it’s silent. You’re tempted to poke your head out, but instead you wait…

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

“Sweet dreams, Astarion.”

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Previous Chapter

#astarion #bg3 #spawn astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #vampire spawn #astarion baldurs gate #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #astarion x female tav #astarion fluff #astarion fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 fluff #bg3 funny #astarion acunin #astarion brainrot #astarion bg3 #astarion my beloved #astarion romance #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 5 (final)

Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, angst, angry sex, p in v, anal, sex on Negan's bike, slight daddy kink, situationship

Part 4 here // Part 1 here

“Knew I’d find you here, doll.” Negan got off his bike, sighing before he sat next to me on the steps of the cabin. “Wanna tell me why the hell you just up and left?” His leg pressed against mine as I stared ahead at the ground, unable to look at him. 

“Just needed time to think.”

“Look at me.” His voice was deep, demanding, and I could hear the pain dripping from it. I refused to look at him.. refused to blink. All I could do was stare at a walker pinned to a tree in the distance like it might save me from this moment. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Negan nod disappointedly before looking away and my heart sank.  “We’ve both had enough time to think, y/n.” His voice cracked when he said my name like tears were forming in his throat. “On the drive over here, I had every intention of fighting for you. For us. But then I thought, I don't want to be with someone who isn’t certain they wanna be with me too.”

I nodded acceptingly. “That’s fair.” I refused to cry, not wanting him to see how this was affecting me. I’d be brave now, and feel sorry for myself later like always. “So why are you even here, then?” I asked and the question made Negan scoff. “Because I at least have enough respect for you to tell you goodbye.”

“I guess you don’t remember our first night together.” I scoffed back at him. 

“How can I ever fuckin’ forget? … and that? Is the problem. Buuut…” His voice changed suddenly, like he switched into the asshole character I saw at Alexandria the first time. “...If I can survive losing Lucille, I’ll damn sure be okay losing you, darlin’.” 

His words felt like a punch to my gut, leaving me numb and speechless. Negan stood after a few moments, whistling as he walked back to his bike but I was behind him before he could reach it. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” I whisper-yelled, not wanting to draw the attention of the dead. 

Negan quickly turned to face me, smirking while he towered over me. “It means.. I’ll go back to my wives at the sanctuary. And you? can sit here for the rest of your lonely little life.. wishing you still had me.” 

My only response was my hand colliding with his cheek hard enough to sting my skin and draw blood from his lip. Negan grinned wider, showing his white teeth as he wiped a drop of blood away with his thumb. There was a darkness in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before and it made me wonder how I was stupid enough to ever believe there was good in him. 

“Fuck you.” My jaw clenched as I spoke and mindfully held back my fists at my sides, desperately wanting to press one into his arrogant skull. 

“Yeah?” He asked, tilting his head. “Okay.” He breathed before pulling me forward by my wrist and smashing his lips into mine. I tasted the lingering blood on his mouth and sucked harder at his lip like it was some miracle drug that would heal me from his hurtful words. 

He bit me back and I shoved him away, breathing heavily. A low grumble came from his throat before he pulled me back to him and wrapped his fingers around throat. “You want me to stop? Tell me.” His grip tightened around my neck and my lips remained closed. His head fell back as he let out a loud chuckle and returned his heavy gaze to mine. My eyes watered from the pressure building in my neck and his eyes softened along with his grip.

Negan looked away before letting go of my neck completely. For a moment I thought he felt bad about it, until he grabbed my wrist and maneuvered me to bend over his bike. I gasped when my stomach pressed into the seat and knocked the wind out of my lungs. Before I had a chance to stand, Negan yanked my shorts down along with my underwear and lined his already hard and ready cock up to my entrance. 

"You ready to stop with the dramatics, darlin'? We both know we can't stay away from each other." He slid into me with one deep push and kept himself there for a moment. "Feel how perfect that is? We were made for each other, baby." He began thrusting and my moans grew louder as heat flooded my core. 

His hand found my ponytail and he jerked it harshly, making me yelp and my back arched while his dick reached a deeper level inside me.

"Negan, fuuuuck, feels so good."

"I know baby, I know." He breathed heavily, keeping his pace fast and steady. Letting go of my ponytail, his hand dropped to my ass while the other remained squeezing my hip. I exhaled a pained breath when I felt his thumb force its way into my other hole.

"So pretty and tight." He said, looking down to watch his thumb and cock slide in and out of me simultaneously. Then suddenly he removed both and I whined at the empty feeling.

He circled the head of his dick around my asshole and my eyes went wide with the sudden painful stretch of his tip entering.

"Fuck." Negan grunted before pushing the rest of length inside me until his balls were pressed against my pussy lips. We both moaned in unison as his pace sped up. "Shit, baby, look at you. Taking daddy's cock like a fucking pro. So fucking proud of my girl." He yanked my ponytail again, hitting a spot that made me see stars.

"Negan!" I practically screamed.

His other hand reached in front of me, covering my mouth. His fingers gripped painfully around my face, bringing tears to my eyes while he ripped my insides apart.

"Goddamn it, doll. Gonna fill that little ass with my cum and watch it drip outta you. You want that? Huh?" He pulled you back further towards him, biting your neck after whispering the filthy words in your ear.

The heat continued to build in your core and you felt yourself getting close. "Yes, please Negan. I need it, please!" I begged desperately.

Negan chuckled darkly and pulled back, leaving you empty again. He finished himself off with his hand, grunting as he spilled onto the ground.

I turned around, pulling my shorts back up quickly. "What the hell?" I asked, confused at his sudden change of plans.

"Ahhh." He said relieved, buttoning himself back up and adjusting his clothing. "Something wrong, darlin'?"

I scoffed, staring at him in disbelief. "No, not at all."

"Good. Because I'm done pleasing you, sweetheart." Negan smirked at you, throwing a leg over his bike and starting the engine.

"Just like that, huh? You're just.. giving up that easy? Did I mean anything to you?"

"Of course. Always will. And when you work out your own shit and realize you fucked up, I'll be here. I love you, y/n. Nothing will change that."

I watched him disappear in the distance as he drove off, taking my heart with him.

Three weeks later:

I've settled back into Alexandria, slowly making amends with the group. The Saviors had a falling out the day we attacked the Sanctuary and we haven't seen any of them since. Except Negan.

After our escapade at the cabin, Negan had apparently drove to Alexandria and surrendered. He's been a prisoner here since the day he showed up and my heart hurts for him. I haven't been to see him, and by doing so, I'm only hurting myself. I guess its my punishment to myself for letting him go. But its been three weeks now and I can't wait any longer.

Everyone knows about our past situationship after I felt it necessary to come clean. I figured we would never be able to move on unless I told the truth. At first it didn't go well, but time mends everything and I think they're starting to forgive me.

It was getting dark when I knocked on Rick's door, explained the cause of my desperation, and he reluctantly gave me the keys to Negan's cell. Arriving at the door of the basement, I took a deep breath, and walked down the stairs into darkness. The only light in the cold room was the moonlight shining through one small window by his cell and it reminded me of our moment together in the trailer - the day I took a bullet for him. I knew then I was in love him with him and nothing has changed since.

"Negan.." I whispered, walking closer.

He lied on his back on his cot, looking up at the ceiling with a hand behind his head.

Silence.

"Please talk to me."

Nothing. He wouldn't even look at me.

"Ok, I'll talk then." I leaned against his bars. "I'm sorry it's taken me awhile to come see you. I needed some time to work out my shit - as you put it." I paused, giving him a moment to react but he didn't. "Well.. it's worked out. If you care?" I said teasingly.

His head fell to the side as he looked at me, trying not to smile. I took that as a welcome sign and quickly opened his cell door with the key. He barely had time to stand up before I ran to his arms and kissed him like my life depended on it.

He lifted me before laying me down on the cot and climbing over me. His mouth stayed connected to mine and without words, we made a million promises to each other in that moment.

We'd never leave again.

A/n: This final part was slightly difficult for me to finish. I have so many other one-shots in process that I'm ready to focus on, so I'm sorry if this felt rushed. But this entire story was so fun to write. Thanks so much to whoever requested it! <3

Tag list: tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174 @fanficwriter5 @theoraekenslover

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan fanfiction #jdmorgan #jdm fanfiction #negan smith #jdm x reader #twd negan #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jdmfanfiction #negan smith fanfiction #negan x you #negan x reader #negan smith x reader #the walking dead negan #negan smith smut #negan twd #negan smut #negan smith x you #jeffrey dean morgan x you #jeffrey dean morgan smut #jeffrey dean morgan fanfiction #jdm x you #jdm smut

[claiestve]

HEY I HOPE YOURE DOING GREAT !!! I have an idea so … this scenario is like a week before they became a couple (audio 9) and they had a day off since listener finished a case and they decided to take a day off. As listener got ready for sleep they got a little sad and basically went to sleep crying, Isaac still saw light coming from the room and since it was late he decided to check up on them. He walks in and as he was about to turn of the light he sees the tears and puffy cheeks from sleeping listener THEN ISAAC GETS SOFT AND WORRIED SLOWLY TOUCHING THEIR FACW AAAAAAA

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ꨄ Isaac

˜”* ❝𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʜᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏᴋᴀʏ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

It’s been so hard to get used to this type of life. Yeah, it’s been some time but damn, this shit is hard. You felt like you didn’t belong here no matter how much closer you and Isaac got, it just felt like you were out of place. And what about when you left? It didn’t feel like he wanted you to stay even if you wished he would. It was getting difficult for you to hide your feelings for him. 

There was nothing left to do anymore. You finished any piece of work that came your way and now, you were left by yourself in your own company. It was peaceful but it felt overly lonely. That’s what you’ve been feeling lately, lonely. It was hard for you not to get all in your head when you were alone like this, especially at this time. Isaac was busy and there was nothing to distract you. 

Why did this have to happen? You didn’t need a savior if things just went differently. It just felt like you were a burden on Isaac and you did not want to feel like that. Your eyes tear up at that. The thought that you were a burden on the only person you had, someone you really fucking like too. 

Now, you’re sitting here bawling. It seemed so silly, like something you’d do if you were still a kid. Just crying about nonsense. But, it was your head getting to you. You were just glad Isaac didn’t see you like this. It would’ve been mildly embarrassing and you didn’t want to deal with that at all. You weren’t even sure if he was up at this time. You decided to go to bed as it was late and crying wasn’t going to fix anything, no matter how much you needed to.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Y/N?” 

Your door cracks and eventually glides open revealing a sleepy Isaac. He came in to check on you since you left your lamp on. He already knew you were asleep but something inclined him to just get closer and check. 

“You awake?”

A hand glided across your face with gentle intent. It was a sweet, soft touch almost like a caress. His hand met and caught a tear from your closed eyes. “You’ve been crying… why…”

He focuses on your puffy red face. He wasn’t used to seeing this, not from you at least. All of a sudden, you feel the bed move a bit. When you lifted your head, there he was, draped on the bed next to you. 

“Isaac, why are you in here?”

“The light was on and um, I was worried.”

“Aw, thank you for worrying but there’s nothing to worry about.”

You roll over, looking away from him. You knew he saw your face but you didn’t want to draw any more attention to it. You’d rather hide under a thousand heavy covers than let him see your face like this. It was embarrassing and you’ve already embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 

“Please look at me.” He says in a desperate tone. It was on the verge of an eager request with a slight whimper.

With that voice, damn, you wanted to. You wanted to do anything he asked if he asked in that tone. 

“Why?”

“I want to look at you when I talk to you.”

You sigh and turn around seeing his face. His expression is full of concern and sympathy. It wasn’t a pitiful expression, no, it was so much kinder than that. Somehow, it was comforting. 

“Y/N, why were you crying?”

“There’s just a lot going on in my head right now, don’t worry, Isaac.”

“Are– are you sure? I mean, I can sit here and listen to you talk about it if you want.”

That was sweet of him but you didn’t want him losing sleep. Not for something like this anyway.

“It’s okay. Go to sleep, Isaac.”

“Fine,” He stood up, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

i miss isaac so bad now i know how the andrew fans felt UGHSAHG

#zsakuva #asmr #sakuverse #zsakuvaxreader #isaac #isaacrhoades

[average-mako-enjoyer]

So, I've seen some interesting posts about Spacer Shepard and Colonist Shepard and the struggles they had to face, so I just want to ramble about my favorite Earthborn, why I think it's such a powerful background and what makes it especially heartbreaking.

It's easy to guess why both the Colonist and the Spacer chose to become soldiers. For the Spacer it was the most obvious choice available (and we see a lot of these "dynasties" in the game: Ashley, Kaidan, Tali, Jacob…), for the Colonist it was revenge, but what about the street kid, the Earthborn? What kind of hell was the Earthborn living in that the only way out was to join the fucking military? Were they even 18 when they enlisted? Shepard calls the place they grew up a "war zone," so you can draw your own conclusions.

We kind of get the inside scoop on Shepard's gang days thanks to Finch, and this whole quest really got me thinking: what kind of stuff was the teenage Shepard involved in that Finch (and I don't think he's a stupid guy) really thought he could blackmail the first human Spectre?

Also, how did gang life affect Shepard? Military training must have been hell for them, because it's based on trusting your squadmates, your commanding officer, the whole chain of command, and gang life is pretty much the opposite: trust someone and you're likely to get fucked.

And what about the whole "Take Earth back" thing? There was a very interesting thought in the post about the Colonist, asking why Shepard should care about Earth at all when their own home was destroyed and their parents were killed? And it got me thinking about the Earthborn: why should they care? They saw the absolute worst that this planet can be: they were an orphan in a war zone, forced into the gang just to survive. Someone like Kaidan is fighting for his family, for his orchard and the view over English Bay, and what is Shepard fighting for? For the slums where they grew up?

What I love about this background is how well it fits the Paragade route and how well it explains some of the moments in the game.

Shepard charming the Citadel shopkeepers into giving them a discount? Street kid moment.

Shepard getting really excited about finding the credit chit between the couch cushions? Street kid moment.

Shepard fleecing their own engineers in the sci-fi poker game (after telling said engineers not to be so hard on the rookie)? Street kid moment!

Shepard getting all sarcastic around C-Sec officers and scolding mercs? Street kid moment!

And you know exactly why Shep is so good at hacking and lockpicking, and why it takes some devilish concoction to finally get them drunk.

I honestly have so many heascanons about the Eartborn that I could ramble on all day. Also, following this topic, there's a point to be made about how Bioware handles the issue of sexism in their own games, but that's definitely for another time. Bye.

It's also the reason Shepard can't dance, hums rather than laughs, and smirks rather than smiles.

#mass effect #commander shepard #my thoughts

[puppyeared]

axolotl

#covers my face. this is dumb theyre dumb idk what was going thru my mind making this.h #i like this brush tho i think ill keep using it #i had this thought awhile ago that axolotls kind of remind me of macs ears. and i had a nice thought that if wukong ever saw one #he'd say the same thing. and thats why im sitting here with my head in my hands #macaque doesnt know if hes embarassed amused or straight up smitten. its all 3 #i have such a hard time drawing necks and shoulders.. mac is supposed to kind of hunch up his shoulders #the way some ppl do when they bow their neck down kind oflike. defensive-tucking in position when theyre making themselves small #i cant really get it to look right so it kinda looks like his head is sunken too close to his shoulders. so i guess ill keep practising #maybe if i brought his head closer to the collarbone it will look better. but i struggle with foreshortening so theres a chance itll #just look like his neck starts at the collar. ughhh #god have mercy if i ever draw hugs. i hate positioning the shoulder i hate hate hate it. 10 dead 17 injured #i have new design note ideas for em but ill post another time #myart #doodles #lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #shadowpeach #lmk sun wukong #lmk swk #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #lmk liu er mihou

[ryuucae]

A dialogue on heroes

#ffxiv #ff14 #elidibus #emet selch #art #illustration #posting this at 2 am cuz I tried and put so much effort into this but a little shy to show #it was just an idea I had where I wanted to draw the two just having a conversation on what their theories and logic behind heroes #cuz elidibus has wolidibus and emet has innocence #and i think in his own way innocence / vauthry saw himself as a hero as well #so i thought it would be interesting but meh #storytelling is hard #also i need to stop drawing tiny characters and making pikachu face when I can't see their expressions lmao #edit: if y'all saw the error w/ the layer mask...no you didn't...

[sluckythewizard]

YOU JUST HƎARD IT FROM [HIS MOUTH] FOR SURƎ!!!

#cw gore #cw blood #jrwi fanart #jrwi suckening spoilers #jrwi suckening #BEEN VEHEMENTLY SCRIBBLING THIS THING ALL DAY #IM SO FUCKING IN LVOE W THE NEW EPISODE #VIV N VEX ARE LITERALLY EVERYTHING I COULDVE EVER WANTED. I LOVE BLOOD AND MEAT AND BLOOD AND MEAT #THE SCRIBBLE IS KINDA ROUGH SO DONT LOOK AT IT TOO HARD BUT EHEHEHEEEE THE FACE THAT I CREATED UNNERVES ME #AND IM VERY HAPPY ABOUT THAT. I LOVE CREATING SOMETHING AND HAVING IT EVEN SLIGHTLY PHASE ME #I LOVED ALL THE TOOTH RIPPING NOISES IN THIS EPISODE. AHVE U EVER HAD A TOOTH REMOVED? #SHE USED A BLUNT METAL TOOL TO PUNCH IT OUT. IT REMINDED ME OF THE SPLINTERING OF A TREE. THE WAY IT TORE. #SUCH A SPECIFIC SORT OF CRUNCHING AND SPLINTERING AS A MOLAR WAS RRRRIPPPEEDD FROM THE SOCKET. OHH I LOVE IT. #GOING IN FOR A ROOT CANAL NEXT WEEK AND IM VERY EXCITED. ALL THE DENTISTS LOVE ME N ARE SO NICE TO ME #WHAT A GREAT EPISODE. I HOPE THE URGE TO DRAW MORE STRIKES ME LIKE THIS AGAIN. WEEEE!! #I WANNA ANIMATE EMIZEL GETTIN HIS EYE RRIPPED OUT. BUT. IM ALREADY COOKING 3 OTHER VIV N VEX ANIMATIONS #THERES NO WAY THEY WILL ALL BE FINISHED HELP!! HELP MEE!!!! I HAVE TO MANY IDEAS AND NOT ENOUGH HANDS. DO U GUYS REMEMBER HTF? #OR HAPPY TREE FRIENDS. THE CUTE ANIMAL SHOW W ALL THE BLOOD AND GORE AND TERRIBLE TERRIBLE THINGS HAPPENING TO THE CUTE ANIMALS #in elementary school i would show the 'eyes cold lemonade' to other kids and tell em thats how they make pink lemonade. #hope that helps you undertsand. i wish i could make a lil cartoon w just viv n vex doing what they do best #LOST MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT. IM GOING BACK TO MY LAB. DONT EXPECT TO HEAR FROM ME IN A MILLION YEARS

[britneyshakespeare]

I love drawing in charcoal because when you're in the beginning of a work, instead of looking like something reasonable it's perfectly acceptable and natural for them to look like this

#does that look like anybody you know #tales from diana #(c'est moi) #i was trying to redraw brian protheroe (the same pic of him as edward iv i sketched roughly--and p badly--last month) #in charcoal. bc my mom got me charcoal PENCILS for christmas instead of sticks of vine #which were what i really needed. i dont like to use pencils hardly at all #it was an utter failure. i started off by just trying to do the basic contours of his face + neck + the crown #and then after about 20-30 minutes when i had an ok start i was like ill take a break to refresh my head #went away from it for like an hour. and was like why dont i just try it w the vine #i thought i would improve it. and i suppose i could've if i had REALLY tried #but i was exaggerating the proportions and making the worse while trying to fix them. everything got larger #and i was essentially erasing EVERYTHING i started with while i was trying to even them out #so i just gave up. lol #a girl has learned to quit while she's ahead. and she learned the hard way. #but i wasn't happy to just leave off that drawing a failure wo any plans to do something else #so i went looking through my photos on my phone and found a pic from nov. 2022 that i was going to use #as a reference pic for a figure drawing assignment that i was going to use. but my professor allowed me to draw #my grandmother instead of myself. so i never did that dramatic self-portrait assignment. i did a dramatic grandmother portrait #but i did like the dramatic-lighting picture i took of myself well enough and figured i would draw it someday #im just leaving this as a started picture for now. this wasnt much work at all maybe like 15 minutes #it's an ok start. #bc of the fucked up nature of forming a charcoal drawing i have to admit i usually like my progress pictures more than my final works. lol #like they just have a sort of monstruous edge to them. lol

[mars-ipan]

i’m having a moment of boiling rage over the way my obvious neurodivergence has been handled by my doctors and attempted therapists

#marzivents #thought one vent post was enough. it is not i am angry #like. ok i’ve known i had /something/ for as long as i can remember #i remember talking with my mom as a kid about whether i should go to therapy #(i for some reason thought it was a thing for older people? idk why) #my main suspect has changed over the years. from social anxiety to gad to depression to adhd to maybe autism? #but that’s not the important part #the important part is that it’s something. and i’ve literally always known this #but every time i try to bring it up. oh you’re fine. oh you’re okay #even my favorite therapist dodged it! she did however acknowledge that yes i was exhibiting Real Symptom but she avoided drawing conclusions #which. honestly fine she can’t technically diagnose me #but it is so frustrating #especially when i compare it to my brother’s experience #my brother was diagnosed with autism at 2. 2!!! #he’s faced a fair bit of ableism from classmates and teachers and i am not going to glorify that #but he’s also always had access to accommodations and he doesn’t need to justify needing anything #i mean it’s to the point where he feels babied. he wants to have his autonomy respected #once again. i’m not glorifying ableism. it genuinely sucks that he’s going through that/has gone through that #but god at least he has a word to call it! he never had to question why some things were hard for him and others were incredibly easy #he never had to question whether he was making all of it up #he never needed a reason to need help. if he needed it that was it. there were no extra questions #i never got that. and i’m not envious of him. but i am a little angry at the fact that i never got that #i doubt myself all the damn time. i hesitate to say that i’m probably not nt #if i’m struggling suddenly it becomes ‘what happened’ and not ‘what’s bothering you’ #instead of ‘we’ll work on it’s i got ‘try to fix it’s #i’m so sick of constantly having to justify it. feeling the need to apologize every time i ask for help #it’s maddening. it drives me crazy #god. i gotta get that fucking diagnosis i’m gonna die at 30 from sheer frustration #i know this about me. i know it. will people please fucking listen #sigh. curse of being afab