#It would probably drag if it went on for longer

[ihadlife]

Achilles' Heel

pairing: (aged up) pro hero!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

synopsis: You and Bakugo aren't dating, so you can't be really mad when he's toying with you. What you can be, though, is miserable. Especially when you get laid off from work. And to whose else's arms can you run into other than the person's who's hurting you the most. 

tags: 18+, adult content, fem!reader, fem gendered pronouns and pet names, angst, so much fucking angst, baby trapping, unprotected sex, dumbification, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talking, oral sex (male and female receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, impact play, unrequited love, reader and other people smoke, reader has crippling mommy issues and self-isolates, the worst possible decisions ever made at all times, toxicity contest between reader and Bakugo i guess

an: crossposted on ao3. reader makes decisions so bad i wanted to smack her head against concrete all the time. if you're reading this for the smut i suggest you skip this one, it's not centered around it. it was pain in the ass to write bakugo’s direct speech but if it doesn’t make sense from an accent standpoint i’m begging you let me know and i’ll adjust it. and as always, english is my second language so if you spot any mistakes or even typos pls let me know.

“I get that he was like… busy, and probably exhausted after, but he could’ve sent me a message at least, you know?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been telling you he’s a dick.” 

Your best friend inhaled the cold autumn air through the tobacco and filter in their cigarette, filling their lungs with smoke before exhaling it, letting it mix with the breeze. 

“He’s not a dick… there’s just a lot on his plate.” You tried defending him, but even to your own ears, the words that had left your mouth sounded pathetic and feeble. “God knows how I would’ve acted if I had his job.” 

You were looking down at your own hands, playing with the handle of the mug that was now empty, the coffee in it long gone. You didn’t even have to look up to know that your friend was giving you a dirty look. 

To be fair, they weren't completely wrong. You still couldn’t get behind their words – a dick – but you more or less agreed with their general idea: he wasn’t treating you right and you deserved better. 

Knowing and realising all that, you still couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it. 

“You would’ve been honest and communicated.” They took another drag through their cigarette. “And he should be too. If he wants to keep a relationship.” 

The truth was, he had a demanding job. Being a pro hero and saving people’s lives almost every single day was taxing. Not only physically, but also mentally. You understood that. You had let him know that you understood. 

Still, as your friend said, and even as your own head was telling you, wanting him to communicate his needs and intentions beforehand was the bare minimum. Not even letting a problem arise and preventing it. Because he should have cared. 

The thing that hurt you the most was that it hadn’t always been like that. 

At the start, when you two met, he was attentive. Funny. Kind. Charming. You were sure he was still the same person, only not towards you. Not anymore, at least.

You entertained your friend and they tried to distract you from your own thoughts for about another hour before you both got up and went separate ways, counting on seeing each other sometime in the next two weeks again. Not that any of you could make it longer without seeing each other. 

You decided to take the longer walk home, hop to a small market on your way and buy some necessities you needed. Maybe pick up something small to treat yourself. 

Your heels were clapping on the sidewalk loudly, your tempo moderate. Your feet hurt after spending the entire day in your heels and once again you cursed yourself for choosing this type of footwear when you had known you would have to spend an entire day in them. There was a huge blister forming on your right Achilles, you were sure. 

You fished your phone from your purse without even thinking about it, your thumbs moving on the screen as if they’d had a mind of their own. Or maybe it was a muscle memory at this point. 

You opened the messages app on your phone and stared at the screen. Maybe hoping that if you stared long and hard enough, you would somehow manifest his response. Or maybe he would even open and read the message instead of leaving you on delivered. 

I’m sorry to hear that! You really should take a few days off, you deserve it :( 

Pathetic. 

Scoffing at yourself you put your phone back into your purse and entered the small market. After greeting the lady who owned the shop you grabbed a basket and started browsing the isles. 

You liked this market. The owner was aloof, she never asked you personal questions. You had been going here for long enough for the lady to remember you, you were one of the regular customers, yet she treated you like a stranger every time. 

You appreciated that. This kind of curtness. 

You began your usual route around the small store – a route you’d walked so many times you would be able to walk it with a scarf around your eyes without bumping into a single thing. 

You idly strolled through the shop, picking up the stuff you needed. 

Toast bread. 

A premade sandwich with cheese, ham, and cucumber. 

Spam ham. 

Canned fish. 

A few packets of instant ramen. 

Cheap coffee. 

Two single rolls of toilet paper. 

Two bottles of soju. 

Your feet stopped once you were in front of the register. You put the basket on the counter with a tiny smile and waited for the owner to scan the items. 

Your eyes slid from the small woman to the stand next to the register, where the magazines were, all kinds together. The serious ones and the ones that just wrote about celebrity gossip. Living and lifestyle ones. Ones for teenagers. Weekly sudokus and crossword puzzles. 

You weren’t the same scared, shy, uncertain intern as you were a few years ago. You’ve earned your place in the publishing company; you were a proper columnist at that point. So when your boss had assigned you the interview with the pro hero that would be the main feature of the next issue, you had been elated and had readily accepted the task. You had been sure this would help further your career. Maybe help you get a raise. 

As you had soon learned, you might have been a good columnist, but you were still very much naive. You hadn’t gotten a raise. Nor had the feature helped the career. 

What you’ve gotten out of the interview, however, was your phone number in Dynamight’s phone. 

“Thanks for the interview, it was great.” You smiled and closed your laptop right after saving the file. 

“No, ya were great.” 

You laughed a little, bashful, a quiet ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you put your laptop into its case and into your faux leather bag that was resting against the chair you were sitting in. 

“I mean it,” he leaned back in his luxurious office chair, his elbows resting on the arms of the seat. “Most of the interviews I do are real uncomfortable. People love bein�� nosy and invadin’ my  fuckin’ privacy.” 

“You can’t blame them,” you grinned. “Of course, they wanna know everything about one of the most popular heroes.” 

“And ya?” He asked after a slight pause and butted his chin in your direction. 

“Me?” 

“D’ya wanna know everythin’ ‘bout the most popular hero?” 

You didn’t miss the way he changed ‘one of the most popular’ to ‘most popular’. Shameless. 

“Uhm,” you bit your lower lip, not really sure what to answer. 

“Lemme take ya out.”

You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. His cockiness and the roughness around the edges were more alluring than you would like to admit. 

“Okay.” You breathed out and gave him a nervous smile. 

Were you ready to go on a date with a pro hero though? 

“Sorry?” You apologised to the woman when you realised she had said something. 

She repeated the total price to you. 

Oh, right. 

You fumbled with your purse a little and fished out your wallet. 

“Could you please add a bag to that?” 

The woman grabbed one plastic bag from under the counter and put it on top of the things you purchased, not bothering to bag them. 

“Actually… I would also like some cigarettes. And a lighter.” You put your wallet on the counter and started bagging the groceries yourself. 

“What kind?” Was all she said, but you didn’t miss the judgy look she gave you. 

“Gold Marlboro.” 

She turned around to retrieve the cigarette box and basic, plastic lighter in a bright blue colour and handed them to you. 

You finished bagging your stuff quickly, paid for it and with a goodbye exited the market. 

A silent groan left your lips when you felt the rocky cement underneath your feet again, the back of your shoe digging into your Achilles more than before. The blister was going to be a big one. 

The rest of the route to your home was uneventful. Thankfully. Once you opened the front door of the crappy building where you lived, you stood in front of the elevator. 

It was old, unreliable, and just barely held together. This is why you usually took the stairs, but the painful cushion filled with fluid made you reconsider your actions. You looked from the elevator to your feet. It was either the stairs which would abuse your blister even more, or the risky elevator. 

You sighed as you carefully stepped out of the heels. 

“Shit.” 

The blister that formed on your Achilles during the day must have popped and was now bleeding. Your entire heel and the inside of your shoe were stained with red that was slowly turning brown; the edges were crusty and flaking.  

“Great.” 

You bent down to pick up the bloody shoes in your free hand and started walking up the stairs. The stone and occasional tiles of the floor were just a tad too cool on your soles but you didn’t necessarily mind the sensation. It felt nice on your slightly swollen feet after the entire day. 

Once you made it to the seventh floor – your floor – you stopped in front of the door to your apartment, and with a loud bang let the shoes fall from your hand to the floor. The bag with your groceries followed suit and soon you were trying to fish out your keys from your faux leather shoulder bag. 

Your phone started vibrating, set on silent mode. Scrambling to quickly pick it up, you found your phone in record time and checked the caller’s ID, hoping to find a certain hero’s name on the display. 

Your eyebrows furrowed a little when you found out it was your mother calling you. Inhaling deeply and breathing out through your nose, you slid your finger over the screen and put the phone against your ear. 

“Hi, mom!” Your voice was too high-pitched as you greeted her. You leaned your head heavily to the side and squished the phone between your ear and your shoulder to keep your hand empty. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You pulled a face at the pet name. You hated loving it. 

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy right now. Is it important?” You slightly fumbled with your bag as you kept trying to find your keys. 

“Oh, no, I just wanted to call and ask how you’re doing,” you could hear the smile in her voice. 

“I’m doing fine! Listen, would it be alright if I call you tomorrow? I’ve got a lot of things I still gotta do today.” You were lying through your teeth. 

It took only a few more seconds of conversation with her, and you both agreed on a call the next day when you ‘have more time’. You tossed the phone in your bag and rummaged through all the things once again before you found your keys in the bottom corner of your bag and unlocked the door. 

 First, you walked into the small and cramped hall of your apartment and put down your purse, then just halfway stepped out of your flat to retrieve your shoes and finally the bag with groceries. 

Eventually, you closed and locked the door behind you, the grocery bag in your arms as you stepped into the apartment that was way too small to even fit a single person. Not even two steps later you were in your living room and bedroom and after three more steps and turning the corner twice you were standing in the ‘kitchen’. ‘Kitchen’ with quotation marks, because the very few cabinets with a sink and without a proper oven could hardly count as a regular kitchen. 

The apartment was horrible. It was in a worse part of town – not necessarily the worst, but bad enough. The prefabricated block of flats was old and in desperate need of renovation; the plaster on the outside of the building was slowly crumbling, the insolation was thinner than the walls between apartments, the pipes were rusty, and you heard that several neighbours of yours from lower levels had complained about mould. 

Most of the people here, except for a few old grandmas and young women around your age, were unfriendly. The neighbours, with whom you shared one of the living room walls, were too loud. 

Oftentimes, there were strange smells, ones you could not identify or describe. Whether they were lingering in the hall of the building or, for some godforsaken reason, in your own flat, they always lasted only a couple of hours. 

During your walks up and down the stairs to get to or from work, you’d meet people who’d make you cross the street if you met them in the city at night. They were mostly younger men with pronounced eyebags and a strut that was either overconfident or not confident enough. 

The only reason you stayed there was because it was cheap and the commute to your work from here was alright. Even with a salary that was too low for the job you did, you were able to afford it and even save a little bit of money on the side for any possible emergencies. 

You set the grocery bag on the counter and went back into the hall to take your probably ruined shoes, bringing them to your minuscule bathroom and setting them on the floor in your shower, deciding on trying to salvage them later. 

On your way back to the living room you took your work bag with you. Opening the window first and letting the cold autumn breeze in, you sat down on the couch and fished around in your bag once again, looking for the cigarettes and lighter that you put separately into your purse. Once you found it, you chucked the bag without any care on the floor and leaned back on the couch, putting your bare feet up on the coffee table. 

You hissed as the raw meat on the back of your heel came into contact with the old glass top of the table that needed some proper cleaning, but ultimately did nothing to alleviate the pain. Instead, you took a single cigarette out of the package and rested it between your lips, inhaling at the same time as your fingers brought the fire from the lighter to life. 

You left the cigarette hung from your mouth, held by your dry lips, and leaned your head back, your hands splayed on the sides of your body. 

The fact was, you were exhausted. 

And you didn’t even have a good reason for it. 

Sure, work sucked. You worked like a dog only to be constantly overlooked and not earn enough. You were lying to your own mother every time you talked, pretending you were much more successful than you actually were, trying to get on her good side and receive any bit of praise. You hated living in your apartment. You were seeing a man who probably didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him. 

The only good thing was your high school friend, always by your side and ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. 

Maybe you should go see a therapist. 

You closed your eyes and deeply breathed in the stale air that refused to move even with the window opened through the tobacco and filter. You wondered what Bakugo was doing right now. Maybe he was working on the paperwork in his office, sitting behind the big, wooden table that you’d once seen. Or maybe he was out, patrolling with one of his sidekicks, walking in the streets. Maybe he was covered with fake sweat, flexing his muscles for a shoot for another men's magazine. 

Your mind lingered on the image of that. 

His healthily tanned skin taut over his herculean muscles, the drops of water rolling down and creating a web of moisture, leaving goosebumps behind. 

You pressed your thighs together, putting a small amount of pressure on the nether part of your body. 

You thought back to all the passionate moments you’d spent with the pro hero. Bakugo might have been getting on your nerves lately due to his behaviour but he was an exceptional lover. He was the best you’d ever had, not that you would admit it out loud. That fiery personality of his projected itself well in the bedroom. 

You brought your hand to the cigarette between your lips, took it away from the dry skin and shook off the stack of ash that was growing bigger and bigger at the end of the tobacco. Even though the hot ash landed on the floor covered by very cheap linoleum that was slowly peeling in some corners, you didn’t care. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, princess,” Bakugo was panting above you, the drops of sweat rolling down his forehead, neck, and chest and occasionally landing on your damp skin. 

Your pussy was drooling on his dick, your juices wet on your inner thighs as well as his entire crotch and lower abdomen. He was bullying your body with his cock, repeatedly slamming it in and out of you at a fast pace. 

“Katsuki,” you pleaded. You didn’t even know what you were asking him — to slow down? To change the angle? To fuck you harder? Your brain was a mush at that point and all you could think about was him, him, him. 

“Not my name, sweetheart,” he grinned and slapped the top of your cunt with his hand, successfully hitting your clit. 

You winced and tried to comprehend what he just said to you. Once the words registered, you corrected your mistake. 

“Dyna- Dynamight!” His hero name on your lips was cut in half by your gasp. 

“There we go.” He praised you. He didn’t move his hands from your hips when he angled them more, making your back arch and your pussy more open for him. “Your pussy fits me like a fuckin’ glove.” 

Your head was swimming from all the sensations. Bakugo’s dirty talking, his hot breath hitting your calves while your legs were propped up on his shoulders, the blunt nails on his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, the tip of his dick dragging along your warm walls while he made sure you could feel him for several days to come. 

“Look at ya,” he continued. “My dick feels so good’ya can’t even think, huh? Did I fuck ya dumb, princess?” There was a mocking tone to his voice while he talked. 

In a normal situation, if you were having sex with anybody else, you would’ve been embarrassed. Both about the mocking and also about the fact that he was right. To be fair, none of your exes were able to fuck you good enough to get you into this state. But with Bakugo you couldn’t even manage to form thoughts coherent enough to feel the embarrassment at the moment. 

“Dynamight,” was all you managed to let slip from your lips. 

With the cigarette still between your lips, you unbuttoned your trousers and pushed your dominant hand under the fabric of your panties, the tight cotton sandwiching your fingers between the textile and your cunt. 

You circled your entrance to gather some moisture, your pussy just starting to get wet. With the now slick pad of your finger, you moved it upward, tucking it a little underneath the hood to touch your clit directly. 

Breathing out cigarette smoke from your nostrils, you leaned your head back, resting it against the headrest of your couch. With your eyes closed and a gentle sigh leaving your lips, you started moving the finger in circular motions. 

“That’s right, princess.” 

Your eyes were watering as you tried to swallow around the thickness of his cock in your throat. 

“Fuck yeah, just like that.” His grip on your hair tightened. You were running out of air and fighting your gag reflex when you put your palms on his strong thighs, ready to tap out at the last second in case you needed to. “Choke on my dick.” 

Your nose scrunched up against the neatly trimmed pubes as you gagged hard and you quickly tapped his thigh. Bakugo didn’t release your hair, instead, he tugged your head backwards so you would get him out of your mouth quickly. Your lips were red and swollen, covered in your own spit and as well as his precum, parted as you panted for air. Two tears rolled down both of your cheeks as you looked up at the man standing in front of you. 

“Good girl,” he sadistically grunted through his gritted teeth. “You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t ya?” 

You closed your eyes as he gently, almost affectionately, slapped your cheek a few times. 

“Open,” was all he said as he pushed two fingers into your mouth, reaching so far into your throat it made you gag again. 

You grabbed the butt of the cigarette with your hand that wasn’t down your pants and leaned over to your coffee table to put it out against the glass. Leaving the butt there, you reclined against the couch once again, moving your finger from your clit back to your entrance, adding a second one to cover them both in your wetness and pushing them inside of you, immediately targeting your g-spot. 

“Don’t stop.” 

Bakugo’s hand on your hip helped with guiding your movements, effectively pushing you up and down on his cock as you rode him. You were so close to him your nipples were rubbing against his chest with every motion and you were practically breathing each other’s air. The tip of him was deep inside of you and rubbed against your g-spot each time you moved. Your arms were resting on his shoulders. One hand was leaning your weight against his trapezius and the other one against the god-awfully expensive leather sofa of his which you were probably staining now. 

“Fuck,” he groaned so quietly you were only able to hear him thanks to the proximity. “You’re mine, do you understand?” His other hand, which wasn’t holding your hip but was snaked around your waist and pushing in between your shoulder blades so that you would be close to him, moved upwards and firmly, but not forcefully, squeezed the back of your neck. The gesture only made you feel that much closer to him. You nodded your head as fast as you could, but that was not enough of an answer for him. 

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” 

There was a certain desperation in his voice. Desperation that you heard for the first time with him. 

“I’m yours.” 

The words silently left your lips with a puff of air following suit. Bakugo wasted no time and kissed your lips passionately, seemingly putting all his feelings into it. 

But you knew better. 

“Say it again.” 

“I’m yours.” 

The buzz of your phone vibrating in your bag next to the sofa disrupted you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You let out an angry grunt. 

You debated not picking it up and calling whoever it was that interrupted you later, but decided against it when you felt a considerable amount of guilt in your throat. What if it was important? 

You quickly pulled your hand out of your trousers and wiped your wet fingers on your blouse, leaving shiny, sticky splotches behind. Fumbling with the bag a little, you managed to find your phone just in time, not even looking at the caller ID as you swiped your finger against the screen and put it against your ear. 

“Hey.” 

Your body froze a little at the sound of the unusually cheery voice on the other end. He must have had a pretty good day, judging by his tone. 

“Uh, hi.” 

“Ya busy?” 

You straightened on the sofa and tried to clear your throat as discreetly as possible. 

“No, I was just cooking, sorry.” Lie. 

“Cool. Listen, we haven’t seen each other for a while so I wanted to call ya.” 

“That’s nice of you.” Bare. Fucking. Minimum. 

“Yeah. I can’t really talk now, I’m ‘bout to go grab a few beers with my mates. I’ll call ya later, so we can talk properly, yeah?” 

“Oh, sure.” You turned your head to look at the clock on the wall in your kitchen. It was already nearing eight o’clock, just how late did he mean to call? 

“Alright. I’ll talk to ya later.” 

He ended the call sooner than you could say goodbye. 

Your hand that was holding the phone to your ear fell limply against the couch with the device still between your fingers. You didn’t know if his call made you feel happy or even more pathetic. 

It was good that he called you, right? He obviously wanted to check up on you. And also promised to call you again later. 

So why were you feeling like this? Where did this feeling come from? 

You gulped the saliva that gathered between your teeth and the flesh of your cheek, accidentally swallowing a bit of air as well. 

No, you thought to yourself. He was trying. That was good enough for you. For now. 

You raised your hand with your phone again and unlocked it, opening a food delivery app. You debated between classic pizza and maybe something healthier, but your finger ultimately landed on the pizza picture on your screen, successfully tapping it into the cart. You chose the address for delivery and type of payment and locked your phone.  

Releasing a deep breath, you stood up and with your phone still in your hand walked the few steps to your bed. The pizza was supposed to be delivered in 30-60 minutes. Might as well masturbate properly with your vibrator in the meantime. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

After giving yourself two orgasms, eating the entire pizza and drinking several shots of soju, you fell asleep on your sofa just a few minutes after midnight. Bakugo didn’t call. 

»»————-　　————-««

It was several days later that you heard from him again. This time, he didn’t even bother with calling you; he decided that two texts would suffice. 

hey, sorry for not calling you the other day, i got wasted 

you wanna see each other sometime again? ;) 

‘That’s not a proper apology. Send him to hell.’ your friend replied when you sent them a screenshot of said messages. 

You were sitting behind the desk you were assigned at work, your hands idly resting on the keyboard of your computer, but your eyes were glued to your phone that lay locked next to your cup of coffee. You should send him a reply. 

“Do you have a minute?” 

You jerked in your seat involuntarily, the sudden proximity of the voice effectively scaring you. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face, when you realised you were caught slacking off. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied to your boss, not exactly enthusiastically. 

“Great.” He gave you a fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes and quickly left his lips and tapped the side of your cubicle a few times before he turned around and started walking towards his office, obviously expecting you to follow. 

You cleared your throat and got up from your seat, tugged your pencil skirt down a little and followed him as quickly as you could in the garment that was sexy and elegant, but also restrictive. 

You closed the door once you stepped into the personal office that was separated by glass walls from the rest of the cubicles where you and your colleagues worked. 

“Sit down.” Your boss moved his hand in the general direction of the seat that was positioned in front of his desk. 

The table was made of a grey and white particle board, as well as all the desks you and others worked on. The carpet in his office was originally the same shade of dark blue as the rest of the entire floor, but was less walked on and therefore managed to retain its colour better than the carpet in the rest of the space. 

The window behind his back that you were facing and that he liked to stare out of so often was as bleak as it always is this time of the year. The strange shift between autumn and winter when the weather gets even colder and the days even shorter, when you usually reach for your second-hand wool coat before leaving your apartment. 

“We need to talk.” 

You were fucked. 

»»————-　　————-««

Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you held the phone in your hand. 

When are you free? We need to talk. 

A small part of you wished Bakugo cared about you enough to actually get stressed after reading your message. But the more rational part of you knew that that wasn’t the case. The pro-hero with a super-inflated ego wouldn’t get anxious due to a mildly threatening message from an average journalist who had had his balls in her mouth not so long ago. 

Unemployed journalist. 

You debated calling your mother but ultimately decided against it. You weren’t in the headspace to deal with that kind of phone call. 

You also considered calling your friend. 

You didn’t, though. 

You knew they would pity you. You didn’t want people to pity you. You just needed somebody to listen. And maybe a hug. But none of the people you were in contact with or that were in your life would ever just listen. 

So you were left all alone with all these feelings that felt just too heavy on your chest. A lead that made it hard to breathe, a lead that your muscles had to actively fight against to fill your lungs with much-needed air. A lead that made you drag your feet against the pavement. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand. 

this thursday at 5pm, come to my apartment

You didn’t even open the message to properly read it, your eyes just skimmed over the message in the notification on your lock screen before you stuffed the electronic device in your bag once again. 

Good, you thought for yourself. You had three days to somewhat get your shit together before visiting him. As much as you had feelings for a certain pro-hero, you were not about to let him see you like this. 

Especially not since you were determined to end whatever the weird situationship between the two of you was. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

You rested the back of your head against the cool mirror behind you. The extra thick layer of concealer underneath your eyes to hide the dark circles was slowly creasing even though you’d used enough powder to set it… you could almost feel it. 

The Visine in your eyes to make them appear whiter and not like you cried just this morning felt unnatural – too watery and a tiny bit stingy when you closed your eyes for long enough. 

Your thought process? Don’t let him see your weakness. Don’t look like you actually care about this ‘relationship’. Could you even call it that? Could you call this situationship a relationship when he kept you secret from the public and his friends as well? When all he ever wanted to do with you lately was to fuck you? 

The odd smell of the hairspray that you had used deliberately to keep your hair bouncy was almost palpable in the air, even though you used quite a lot of perfume. Those two smells as well as the lingering stench of a cigarette you smoked earlier combined were almost suffocating you, pressing down on your person, making you feel smaller and smaller. 

The supposedly calming music that was playing in the elevator was paradoxically making you even more nervous. 

The trousers you decided to wear that day made your ass look extra good, but cut into your stomach every time you sat down – a decision you, again, made on purpose. To get it over with quicker. You can’t even really sit down with these on. Plus, obviously, it wouldn’t be bad to remind him what he was going to lose, right? One last look at your ass was all you were going to grant him. 

Saying that you were uncomfortable was an understatement. 

You lost your job just a few days ago. It was clear to you you’d have to consider moving soon; the shitty apartment you lived in was cheap, but not cheap enough to keep while unemployed. And now, on top of your job and an apartment, you were about to lose him. 

Maybe it was a good thing, though. Even though he made you feel like you were on cloud nine in the beginning, showering you with affection and spending most of his free time with you, lately all you’d been getting from whatever was happening between you two was stress and anxiety. Self-doubt. More insecurities. 

Besides, were you really going to lose him? Could a person lose something they’ve never had in the first place? 

Your mind wandered on its own to your favourite memory with him. It was still quite fresh, you could remember it as if it had happened a few days ago, even though in reality it had been weeks. 

Your head resting on Bakugo’s thigh, the sound of the television and the feeling of his fingers playing with your hair inevitably lulling you to sleep. Your belly was comfortably full thanks to the amazing dinner Bakugo had cooked for you. 

“You’re sleepin’.” 

“Am not.” You replied, but you could hear it in your own voice, the tiredness and how you slightly slurred your words, your eyes still closed. His smell and proximity was just making you feel so, so safe.

A sigh left your lips as your hand moved on its own and started rummaging in the small purse that you’d brought with you. The fluorescent light in the elevator did nothing to flatter your appearance, quite the opposite, actually. You found the lip gloss you were wearing that day in the depths of your bag and reapplied it generously. You gave yourself another look in the mirror as you stuffed the small thing back into the bag. 

God, it looked like you’d tried too hard. 

Quickly, with only a few stories left, you tried to card your fingers through your hair to make them messier and ruin your appearance a little. Your hand flew to your lips to wipe off all the gloss you’d just put on as the door of the elevator opened to Bakugo’s floor. 

You hesitantly stepped inside of the apartment and took off your shoes, the elevator door closing behind you. Leaving your coat and scarf on the hanger that was situated in the dead end of the hallway, you then stepped in the other direction to actually get further into the flat. 

Your feet were quiet on the overpriced Persian runner rug, so you called his name to announce your arrival. 

“Hey.” 

You were looking directly at his back as you walked into the more open space and the centre of the floor. With his back to you and broad shoulders covered by a simple oversized black hoodie, he was standing right in front of a kitchen counter, probably mixing something judging by the sound of it. 

“Hi.” You replied, your voice lacking the usual enthusiasm that laced it whenever you were with him. You put your purse on the couch in the living area and walked closer to where Bakugo was standing. 

“Hope you’re hungry.” He said without raising his head or really looking at you. 

When you came close enough, you were actually able to see what he was cooking – tamagoyaki. 

“Not really.” You’d kill for some tamagoyaki at that moment, to be honest. “I'm not planning on staying long, actually.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your weight against the kitchen counter, resting your hip against it. 

“Hm.” Was all he said. 

You watched as he poured another part of the egg mixture into the pan, helping it spread by tilting the metal and sort of pushing the liquid with chopsticks. 

Bakugo was an amazing chef. You’d asked him about it when you were eating curry rice during one of the occasions that you’d visited his flat and his response was a grunt and cookin’s not that hard. 

“You know why I’m here, right?” You asked. 

You hoped that he would say it first. Yer leavin’ me. You had prayed that he would say it, make it easier for you. Spare you from having to force air over your vocal cords and formulate the sounds with your tongue and lips. 

He didn’t. 

The silence stretched on as he seemingly minded his business, rolling the tamagoyaki into a perfect little roll and adding more egg mixture. 

“I can’t…” You started but cut yourself off. You gave it another thought before you started again. “This has to end.” 

Bakugo didn’t move a single muscle to indicate any sort of reaction he might’ve had. You watched him finally move as he took two bowls out of his kitchen cabinet and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen aisle. 

“Siddown, food’s almost ready.” 

He started filling the bowls with steaming rice straight from the rice cooker while the egg was frying on the pan. 

“I said I’m not hungry. I’m not here to eat.” 

“And I didn’ ask.” 

“Stop treating me like a child.” Anger was gathering in the pit of your stomach, twisting it more than it already was. 

“Then stop actin’ like one.” 

A moment of silence. 

You were speechless. 

A lump formed in your throat, successfully gagging you and preventing you from defending yourself. You could feel them, the tears forming in your eyes, threatening to fall over your lower lash line and roll down your cheeks. 

“Please, siddown so ya can eat your food.” 

You swallowed around the tightness in your throat and just nodded your head, not trusting your voice to keep steady. Without another word, you walked around the kitchen aisle and sat down on one of the tall bar stools, resting your forearms on the cold granite countertop. The stone was cold enough to sting your already cold skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. 

After not even two minutes the meal appeared in front of you – a bowl of rice, another bowl of miso soup with tofu, a plate filled with cut tamagoyaki and a small bowl of steamed spinach with garlic. 

“Eat up,” Bakugo said as he put his own bowls and plate on the countertop, sitting next to you. 

The food was warm, filling your tummy with a nice feeling. 

“It’s delicious.” You complimented after a few careful bites. You meant it. 

“It’s alright.” 

Ever the critic. Even when it comes to himself. 

The two of you were eating in silence, only the sounds of chewing and slurping filling the air. 

Bakugo raised his eyes from his meal when he noticed your reluctance to continue eating about halfway through the meal. 

“Why aren’ ya eatin’?” 

You could hear the disapproval in his voice. Not worry, not even concern. Just disapproval. 

“Uhm,” you started, but couldn’t finish your sentence. 

The godforsaken jeans you’d decided to wear were digging into your stomach painfully, to a point where a sharp pain was shooting up your chest. And you filling your belly more wasn’t helping it. 

“D’ya not like it?” 

“No! No, that’s not it.” You moved a piece of the omelette with your chopsticks around on the plate. “It really is delicious.” 

Hmph. 

You chewed on your lower lip. Bakugo was obviously unhappy with your answer. He was still staring you down. 

“I’m wearing my standing jeans.” You admitted after a few seconds. 

“Standin’ jeans.” He repeated, obviously not understanding the term. 

“Yeah. Standing jeans. Jeans that look great when you stand up, but you can't really sit down in them because they’re too tight.” 

Your laughable reason was met with silence, he was obviously letting you stew in the ridiculousness of it all. 

“They’re too tight when I sit down, they dig into my stomach.” 

Bakugo blinked at you once before he rolled his eyes and without a word got up and left the kitchen, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. 

You heard some sounds coming from the other side of the flat before he reappeared with grey sweatpants in his hand, handing them to you. 

“Change.” 

“I’m not going to change into your sweatpants.” You protested, looking at the fabric in his extended hand. “I didn’t even want to stay here. Nor eat your food. Can we just get this over with?” 

You were this close to begging him. This close. Begging him to say the final words, those ones you had no guts to really say. Even though they were long overdue. 

“Ya look like shit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ya heard me. Ya look like a’mess. Change'nto those damn sweatpants and finish your food.” 

You looked from his face to the sweatpants he was still holding out for you. Reluctantly, you took them and stood up, immediately feeling the relief in your midsection. You walked back into the hallway where you came from and disappeared in the door on the left – Bakugo’s bathroom. 

You peeked a look at yourself in the mirror immediately after closing the door behind you. He was right. You looked like shit. The concealer was cakey under your eyes; the foundation was sitting on your skin almost unnaturally, making you look like you were wearing some sort of a mask. The mascara formed spider legs on your lower lash line – where some stray tears had gathered. The Visine you had used obviously wasn’t working.

You could just leave the apartment. Just leave and not look back. Obviously, he would get the hint, right? 

Leave and not say a word. Save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation, the uncomfortable feelings that would inevitably bubble up your chest and settle in your throat. 

You sighed and put some liquid hand soap in your palm, turning on the water with your other hand. Smearing the soap across your face, you rubbed hard enough to get the mask off your face, so you could feel the inevitable tears on your skin without any barrier between the two. The soap was slightly stinging as it got into your eyes, but it didn’t stop you from rubbing your face with your nails until your skin was all red and the makeup was now underneath your fingernails. 

It didn’t matter if you wore your mask or not. Not anymore. He had seen right through it. Might as well bare yourself to him. 

Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you saw the black streaks of mascara all over your face, which made you dunk your face into the watery, soapy concoction for longer, until it was running down your forearms and to your elbows, dripping down onto the grey rug on the floor. It didn’t bother you at this point. 

You only opened your eyes again when you ran out of breath, now looking at beet-red skin with two bloodshot eyes that were staring back at you in the mirror. 

That would do for now. 

Opening the drawer underneath the bathroom sink, you knew exactly where to look to find the hair accessories Bakugo kept for all his hookups. Grabbing the ones you needed, you pinned your slightly damp hair out of your face. Stripping off your standing jeans, you folded them neatly into a nice square before you put on the grey sweatpants that were ill-fitting on you. 

It didn’t matter now. 

Didn’t matter what you looked like. 

You sniffled a little and opened the door, emerging into the hallway and letting only the slight taps of your feet announce your entry to the kitchen. 

Bakugo looked up from his meal, unphased, and nodded his head to himself. 

“Thanks for the sweats.” You put your jeans on the counter to your right, where there was empty space. 

“No problem.” 

That was actually kind of nice of him. 

Your brain whined in your head. 

He wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Not now. Not when you needed a final push to end this. Like a coward. 

“Is al’this just ‘cause of me, or did somethin’ else happen?” 

You stayed silent for a while, instead putting in your mouth a spoonful of miso soup with a piece of tofu. 

Should you be honest with him, or lie? 

…It didn’t matter anymore, did it? 

“I got fired.” 

You stuffed your face with the fried egg. 

It was really nice to eat a warm meal after some time. Only now that you were wearing his sweatpants and your entire stomach wasn’t hurting from those damn jeans did you realise how much you actually relished the feeling of warmth filling you up. 

“Sorry t’hear that.” 

All you replied was a low hum from the back of your throat, continuing to fill the dark, empty space inside of you with the home-cooked meal. 

“Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” He asked after a minute. 

You could see in your peripheral that he was looking at you now, pausing his eating. 

“Not really.” 

After that, the two of you finished eating in silence. Once you accepted that Bakugo knew you weren’t alright, the silence actually turned comfortable. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking things over while the two of you were eating. Was this really the last time you’d ever see him? He deserved to get dumped for how badly he had treated you, right? 

Maybe he had his reasons. Maybe something in his life happened the same way you got fired just recently? 

You shook your head from side to side discreetly as you swallowed down another mouthful. It was too late. You came here for a reason, and that reason was exactly what you were mulling over now. 

Don’t be a fucking coward. 

It was the right thing to do. 

Bakugo treated you as disposable. If that was what you were to him, there was no reason for you to stay. 

Were you ready to prove to yourself that you truly were disposable to him, though? 

You realised you had been staring at now empty plates and bowls in front of you only when Bakugo’s hand appeared in the picture to collect the dishes. 

“Thank you for the food, it was really nice.” 

“Hm.” 

You stayed seated at the kitchen island as you watched him neatly put the bowls and plates into the dishwasher. It was obvious that he followed a certain system. You didn’t even consider getting up and offering any help. You knew him well enough to know that he would scold you and tell you to sit down again. 

Your eyes drifted over his body while he was bending down to put the porcelain away. The way his back muscles moved underneath the fabric, the way the dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck brushed against the skin. 

You could almost feel it. Feel his muscles move under your fingers, taste his skin on the tip of your tongue. 

Your eyes followed his movement as he finally turned around once he was done, resting his backside against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes met and your look didn’t falter. It didn’t. 

“So ya wanna break up?” 

You let him win and looked down at your lap. All you saw was the grey fabric that belonged to him. 

“Is it really a break-up if we haven’t even properly dated?” You dared to raise your eyes again. 

“Fair enough.” 

It was him now that looked down. You won this round. 

You were sitting on the bar stool in silence while he was just standing there, in the kitchen, the kitchen island creating sort of a safe barrier between you two. Your fingers were fidgeting in your lap, trying to make your mind focus on anything else than what was really going on in your head. 

Don’t say it. 

Don’t. 

“What happened?” 

You winced. You said it. 

“Whaddya mean?” 

This was a mistake. 

You abruptly got up and grabbed your jeans from the countertop. You were leaving in his sweatpants. You’ll send them back to him sometime later. 

“Wait.” 

You could hear his hurried footsteps following you to the living room area where you collected your purse from the couch. 

“Wait, god dammit,” he grabbed your arm and spun you around so you could face him. “What didya mean by that?” 

You were staring at the neckline of his hoodie, tears smudging your vision. There was not enough of them to roll over the notional barrier, but enough of them for you to fear that they would. 

“What didya mean by that?” He repeated the question. Now that he was so close to you, his voice got much softer. Much quieter. 

That along with the smell of his cologne and deodorant made you realise just how much you’d missed him. The emotion filled your body with a strange feeling of sorrow and grief. 

His hand left your arm and you craved for his touch to return. 

“What happened?” Your voice sounded broken. It felt like it was another person talking rather than you, you couldn’t recognise it. “It was so nice at the start.” 

You dared to look up at him, which turned out to be a mistake. The movement sent the drops of salty water over the edge of your waterline. You felt them rolling down your cheeks to your chin where they connected into one and dripped down. 

Bakugo’s vermillion eyes followed the movement of the liquid on your face. He almost looked guilty. 

“I don’ know whaddya want me t’say.” 

“The truth.” 

He looked away from you for a few seconds while he put his hands in his pockets. It was clear he was debating it. Whether or not he should really be honest with you. 

“You owe me that much.” You encouraged him to talk even though you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to be anywhere else with anybody else than in his apartment with him. Maybe you were a masochist. 

“I used ya.” 

Fresh tears started streaming down your face as soon as his words registered in your brain. His saying it out loud made it all too real. If he hadn’t admitted it, you could still pretend it was something else. You could pretend and make yourself feel better about it. When he admitted it you lost the possibility and comfort of gaslighting yourself into thinking he had a good reason. 

He had enough sense to look at the floor almost shamefully when he carried on. 

“I had a lottov things goin’ on ada time. Ya distracted me from it.” 

You blinked harshly to force the water from your eyes out. The gentle gasp for air left your lips even though you tried to fight it, to conceal it from him. 

“’M sorry. I thought I could give ya more, ‘cause you’re really nice.” 

“Yeah, well… really nice doesn’t seem to cut it, does it?”  

You both stood there in silence for a few more beats before you felt his hand on your cheek, his thumb smearing the tear away from underneath your eye. 

“Don’t.” 

It was a quiet plea, a quiet plea that sounded too much like a whimper, leaving your lips parted after rolling off them. 

“I meant what I said.” He pulled his hand away from your cheek, moving it to the other and wiping your tears there as well with the upper side of his index finger. “Ya are nice.” 

“Whatever.” You removed your face from his touch, eyes glued to the floor. 

“Spend the night.” 

Was it an order, or a request? You didn’t know, but the sentence froze your feet to the floor before you could turn and make your exit. 

“What?” 

“Listen, listen. No funny business. Just, spend the night. Ya can sleep inda guest room.” He added the last sentence almost as an afterthought. 

Your eyebrows were furrowed above your eyes that were moving from right to left, going from one red eye to the other, trying to gauge the sincerity of his statement. 

“Spend the night.” He repeated once more, his voice just barely above a whisper. 

Your mind was screaming at you to get the hell out of that apartment, but you felt yourself nod. 

A masochist. 

“Yeah?” He was making sure. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, not even looking him in the eye. The lump in your throat was making you feel like you could choke on it and you already felt bad for betraying yourself like this and agreeing to his outrageous request. You couldn’t bear the way he was definitely looking at you on top of all of that. 

Bakugo gently put his hand on your shoulder and guided you back into the heart of his apartment. 

“D’ya wanna watch some movie?” He led you to the couch so you sat down on it without any protest. 

“Sure.” 

He sat down next to you, not really close, but not far away from you either, turning the TV on and switching to the streaming service on it immediately. 

You kept biting the inside of your cheek and looking everywhere else than at the TV or him. Hearing the opening of a movie, you raised your eyes to the big screen mounted on the wall. Your throat went dry as soon as you realised what was playing. 

“No, something else.” You demanded quickly. “I wanna watch something new.” 

Bakugo looked at you for a few seconds and then nodded his head, taking the TV remote in his hand once again and switching the movie to a different one. 

The movie that he initially pressed play on was a movie you talked about with him. You could still remember how you gushed about it, mentioning how it was your favourite movie growing up and saying the words we should watch it together sometime. Of course, that 'sometime' never really came. So, now you wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him taint your movie. This was yours. He had no right to claim this thing as well. 

You wouldn’t let him have this because that would mean that at some point he actually listened to you. It would mean that at some point he might’ve tried if he cared enough.  

The sound of a different movie playing commanded your attention then and so you tried to tune in as much as possible. Just from the music, you could tell that it was an action movie. 

“Real’ like this one.” 

You wished he didn’t say those words. 

»»————-　　————-««

You were probably in the middle of the movie and lucky for you, you were already able to say that you hated it. Loud explosions, ridiculous situations, plot with holes. Surprisingly, Bakugo liked a Hollywood action movie with too big of a budget. 

Your eyes drifted from the TV screen to the window. Living this high up definitely had its perks. The view being one of the main ones. You remembered how naïve you had been when this situationship started. How you had thought maybe if this goes well, I’ll be looking at the same view every morning. 

“Ya don’t like it?” 

Ever the observant. 

You turned your head to the other side, looking at Bakugo who was looking right back at you. You bit your lip and shrugged your shoulders. 

“It’s fine.” 

You didn’t want to be mean but you also didn’t want to lie about liking it. 

“Fine?” 

Wrong answer, apparently. 

“I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for an action movie.” You tried to calm him down a little. Lying it was then. 

“Shoulda told me that hour and a'half ago. Dammit.” 

You watched him as he grabbed the remote and exited the movie. 

“What are ya inda mood for, then?” 

You watched his profile illuminated by the light from the TV screen for a few seconds. He was so beautiful it almost pained you. The constantly furrowed brows you almost couldn’t see because of his hair covering his entire forehead, his perfect nose, the shape of his lips. His skin without blemishes, apart from a few small scars, even though he didn’t really have a skincare routine. 

You remembered how you imagined what your possible babies would look like. They’d be perfect. 

“So?” He asked impatiently when you hadn’t answered immediately. 

His eyes met yours when you decided what to do. 

Moving closer to him, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as you remembered. He still tasted the same. It was Bakugo who leaned back, looking at you. Making sure you knew what you were doing. You leaned in more, kissing him again. Gently, almost tenderly. What if this was the last time you ever got to taste him? You relished the feeling, trying to commit to your memory as much as you could. His taste, his smell, the way his lips felt against you. The kiss got interrupted when he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“Are ya sure ya can handle it?”

You knew what he meant. Are you sure you can handle that, emotionally? Are you sure it won’t ruin you even more?  You couldn't help yourself. Bakugo was like a scab you couldn't stop picking at. An open wound that just wouldn't heal. He was your weak spot.

“No.” You said with your voice all breathy, kissing him once again, this time more passionately. Bakugo reciprocated without missing a beat, one of his hands grabbing the side of your face and the other one going straight to your waist. Not even a few seconds in, you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling him without breaking the kiss. 

You were eager. 

And Bakugo was just as eager as you. 

Part of your brain hated this. Hated how good his touch felt, hated how familiar all of this was. How safe you felt right in that moment and just how vulnerable and exposed it was all at the same time. You felt weak. 

Bakugo’s hand that was on your waist moved to your hip and gripped it tightly, pushing you back and forth, guiding your movements so you would grind against him. There was impatience in the movements from both of you. You knew where it was coming from on your end but the implications of it coming from him made your heart drop in your chest. 

“Need you.” You half whined against his lips before you quickly stood up and took off the sweatpants he had lent you. Bakugo followed suit – he took off his trousers hastily and welcomed you back in his lap with open arms, immediately grabbing at your flesh and squeezing what he could. 

“Couldn’t leave ‘thout one last fuck, could ya?” He growled against your skin when he moved his lips to your neck and started kissing and nibbling it. 

You let out a quiet moan and grabbed his growing bulge through his boxers, the thin fabric the only thing separating you from him. He was almost fully hard already, huffing against your neck as you stroked him. 

“Fuck, okay, lemme go grab a condom.” The hero parted from your neck momentarily and was about to get you off of him and get up when you stopped him. 

“No!” 

You surprised yourself with how quickly you objected to that. Bakugo stopped himself and gave you a look. 

“No,” you said calmer this time. “I wanna feel you.” 

You deserved it. You deserved this. You deserved at least one good thing in your life. And he would be the one to give it to you. You didn't need his love or affection. All you needed was a piece of him.

You pushed his underwear down just enough so his balls and dick, now fully hard, were free and stroked it, eliciting an almost painfully sounding groan from the man. 

“I wanna feel you tonight.” You repeated, pushing your own panties to the side and lining him up with your entrance. 

You definitely needed more prep than this, you knew that it would be an uncomfortable stretch and that you weren’t wet nearly enough to help with it, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 

You groaned from the slight sting, it was a bit worse than you expected it to be. 

“Shit, easy.” Bakugo put his hand on your hip to slow you down a bit. “No need’da hurry. We got all night, princess.” 

»»————-　　————-«« 

You sat on the bathroom floor in your mother’s flat, having to temporarily move in with her due to your unemployment. The phone you kept pressed against your ear kept ringing and ringing. To be honest, you were expecting it to go straight to a voicemail right away. 

“Yeah?” He picked it up probably at the last possible ring. 

“Hey.” You greeted him. “Listen, could we talk?” You bit your lip as you looked at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. 

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #pro hero bakugou #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bakugo katsuki angst #tw: baby trapping #ves writes

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ making a run for it ]❜

ft. mysta rias, ike eveland, vox akuma, shu yamino, luca kaneshiro (separate) x gn! reader  — luxiem, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ how difficult is it to escape from them?┊3k words

contains: yandere!! obsessive & possessive behavior, kidnapping & isolation, chains, mention of death, delusions, forced physical affection, overuse of the word “love”, overprotectiveness, probably inaccurate vox lore, possibly ooc, not proofread or beta-read, this is a train wreak of sewn together thoughts

➤ author's note: the image quality is so bad ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ i don’t watch luxiem that much and don’t really write for them as a result, but that should change because they are cuties

you lost track long ago of how many days it’s been since you’ve been captured, morning and night blurring together since your enclosure had no windows— it must have been nearly a year since you remember him saying something about your first anniversary coming up. the cold metal cuff around your ankle was just as heavy as when it was first fastened, the chain just long enough for you to reach the corners of the room and the bathroom while being fastened to the leg of his bed. you had every inch of it memorized and explored: the books were worn from being read so many times, the area was spotless without a speck of dust because you kept cleaning the place up, and the most excitement you ever got was from another movie getting added to the streaming service on the television since he didn’t let you have any access to the internet.

just like a bird in a cage, you’ve been locked away and isolated for only your captor’s eyes at night when he comes home from his daily activities. you no longer had any other purpose in the world than to be his to adore and admire, to spoil with material gifts that couldn’t fill the empty hole in your heart, and to be the object of his delusions that you feel the same. the thought of remaining here for the rest of your life as his ‘lover” made you shudder and feel sick to your stomach, a thought that you simply couldn’t get used to even though all hope seemed to be lost. you missed your family and friends dearly, already beginning to forget their faces and the sound of their laughter to your horror. you had to escape somehow no matter what the cost may be, preferably alive and fully intact, but you had no idea if their love for you would be greater than their rage when they found you missing.

━━━ .°˖✧ mysta rias ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ once you had a general idea of what you do, you were a bit hesitant to put it in motion since you didn’t have the specifics in mind and terrified that it would all go wrong with how flimsy it was, but you would never be able to leave if you didn’t take courage. however, if you knew that it would have been so easy and that everything went exactly as you planned, you would have done it ages ago. you couldn’t describe the euphoria you felt when the warm rays of the sun kissed your skin and the gentle breeze welcomed you to the outdoors, practically skipping off to make your long-awaited escape. truly, you were a fool to think it would have been so simple when you were up against a genius detective.

╰₊✧ maybe mysta let you run away on purpose just so that he could drag you back for the fun of it, would you believe it? running away was the easy bit, the real challenge is staying away. despite his laid-back and careless attitude, he’s quite the sadist who loves the image of happiness draining from your eyes and being re-filled with sheer terror when he finds you in the next country over. you’ll be completely helpless against him as he drags to back to his home, tearing you apart from new loved ones just as he did before. it’s so easy for him to destroy all the optimism of being free and sinking back into the despair of being his. it doesn’t matter how much you try to cover your tracks, how far you run, how much you alter your appearance with an identity change, he’ll track you down because the red string of fate always brings him back to you.

you can’t help but feel cold when he holds you, useless as the feeling of desolation rendered you unable to fight against you. you just let yourself be limp and wallow in how pathetic you are, trying to muffle your cries against his shoulder even though you soaked the orange fabric. he didn’t even bother saying any words of comfort and just patted your head your head with his gloved hands, but you both knew that it was an empty gesture that wouldn’t console you in the slightest. there was nothing he could due to make you feel better when he’s the source of all of your woes, so he doesn’t really bother with it.

for any normal person, the tears of their partner would shatter their heart to pieces, especially if they were the reason for it. they would apologize, buy gifts, and do anything they could to show their remorse because they love them. mysta loves you too, he loves you so much, but he loved your misery even more. there’s nothing that he enjoys more than your teary eyes like little crystals brimming over and the cute little sobs you would let out while trying to hide how much he influenced your emotions. he’s sick, so sick, but there’s nothing that could cure him, not even attempts to snap him out of his cruel ways and make him love you in a healthy manner.

━━━ .°˖✧ ike eveland ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ a man with intelligence, but no remarkable prowess to stop you from leaving. he doesn’t have extraordinary deduction skills like mysta, magic like shu, an influence like luca, or inhuman powers like vox, but he has his own charms that work in his favor and keep you by his side. he’s just so… sweet and gentle. you can feel his love radiating in his actions and his words, almost making you forget about the fact you were being held captive entirely. his kindness is the main hurdle, making guilt pool in your stomach because you feel like you were betraying his kindness when he took care of you and treated you like a queen.

╰₊✧ you thoroughly believe that you would have fallen in love with him properly if given the time to do so, but unfortunately, he turned out to be batshit crazy and no amount of bonding is enough to make you completely forget that. once your resolve is solidified that it wasn’t love he felt for you but was instead pure unaltered obsession, putting your plot into action feels more possible. it’s more difficult than escaping from the detective who purposely let you go, but if you manage to outsmart the novelist, you’ll finally find yourself free.

he whistles as he walks down the corridor, holding a silver tray in his hands that has a glass of strawberry lemonade and two decadent slices of cake in your favorite flavor. there’s nothing like spending time with the one he loves the most and a sweet treat in the mid-afternoon, a little pep in his step to show just how excited he is for this routine that occurs about twice a week. in his satchel, he holds a few novels that he thinks you would enjoy and will be asking for your thoughts about the previous books he gave you as he always does. everything was perfect from the weather to his mood to your love life, he doesn’t think anything would be able to ruin it.

at least he thought there wasn’t anything that could ruin it, unable to explain how far his heart dropped when he couldn’t find you anywhere. he ran about the manor in a frenzy, thoroughly searching through every room and crevice while calling out your name. rushing back to your shared bedchamber to properly examine the scene of the crime where he last saw you, he realized that the chain had been broken somehow. he felt dizzy and ill, falling into an armchair and throwing his head back to try and make the world stop spinning.

he couldn’t believe this was happening after everything was going so well! did he do something wrong? did he upset you or offend you in some way? he racks his brain for anything he might have said or done for you to leave him, so deep in his delusions of true love that he doesn’t even consider the fact that kidnapping you and holding you against your will for about a year would have anyone running for the hills. maybe you would come back on your own, finding it in your heart to forgive him and return to be his again? who is he kidding, you’ll never come back unless he looks for you himself! he’ll go and give you flowers and chocolates, and if you still reject him, he’ll simply persist until you remember how much you love him! he’ll follow you to the ends of the earth to remind you of your relationship with him because the two of you were always meant to be together!

━━━ .°˖✧ shu yamino ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ similar to ike, shu is a very smart and clever person, but unlike the novelist, he has quite a few tricks up his sleeve. for instance, his home is laced with so many traps that are installed by his magic, like a temple straight out of indiana jones to protect his treasure. of course, he is the only one who can enter and exit as he pleases— the protection spell isn’t just there to keep you in, it’s also there to keep anyone who may be looking for you out. once he detects that someone is in his property, a simple snap of his fingers teleports you somewhere else until they leave. sometimes you find yourself in an abandoned city or the middle of a grassy field without warning, terrified but unable to find help no matter how far you try to run. wherever you are, he always knows the exact location and can summon you back just as easily as he banished you.

╰₊✧ he acts as though nothing happened, chatting just like he did before you found out his true colors. you can hardly even tell that he has such a manic love for you, remaining awkward as ever while referencing memes that you’ll never understand since you don’t have any interaction with the outside world. he isn’t half as delusional as the other boys, knowing that his affection for you is completely unrequited and will never be reciprocated, yet he still did it anyway because he just couldn’t help himself. you don’t understand this enigma of a man in the least bit, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t completely alter the course of your life and give you lasting trauma, but at least he doesn’t force affection on you… which is the bare minimum and you are still set on leaving.

the creaking of the door was enough to make you panic a bit, filling the disturbingly quiet house. you weren’t quite sure where shu was, but if he wasn’t with you, then he wasn’t here at all. this was the first time you had left the room and the first time you were exploring the house since you were unconscious when he brought you in. it looked standard, like your average, run-of-the-mill home that you would see in television shows, and impossible to guess that there was a prisoner inside. as a result, it was pretty easy to navigate the place and you found what you thought was the exit within minutes. you found a set of keys hidden in a living room drawer and decided to test them out in the front door, not knowing of the traps and naively thinking it would be simple.

unable to contain your excitement, you prepared to inset the first one into the knob, but before it even touched it, the sound of alarms like a thousand cymbals blaring through your ears and making you drop everything from the surprise. you had no idea where the noise was coming from nor did you know how to stop it, quickly dawning on you that you fucked up. running towards a nearby window, you attempted to push it up to climb out of it, but it only seemed to make the sound louder. when you saw a neighbor walking by with a dog, you tried banging on the glass to grab their attention, but it was like you were a ghost and they continued on with their day not knowing they were being begged for help. clearly, his magic was surrounding and you were too stupid to remember that, seeing flames of purple beginning to form near you and signifying that he was home to see what the commotion was about. you can only hope that he won’t be too upset with you.

━━━ .°˖✧ vox akuma ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ how unlucky are you to be the object of the great voice demon’s affections! he rarely ever lets you out of his sight as being a demon in the modern era means that he too must stay hidden from the public eye. it’s suffocating being under his observant eye, something as much as blinking doesn’t go under his radar. since he isn’t human, his senses are heightened with him being to hear so much as a floorboard creaking or smell the blood of you getting a paper-cut from a different room, leading him to be able to just sense your presence no matter where you are since you’re never far from him anyways. you don’t quite understand it, but what you do understand is that it makes escape much more difficult.

╰₊✧ he’s just so overprotective of you and you get it, having heard the story of his clan and how he lost them when they were all so dear to him, but it’s no excuse for his extremely possessive behavior. you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been outside and touched grass that wasn’t in his garden. he’s always by your side and never leaves unless you need to use the restroom or something, like a guard dog that doesn’t understand boundaries, yet even dogs could be forgiven for not knowing any better. the only time you don’t feel watched is when he’s asleep, with an arm thrown around you, but unconscious nonetheless.

you were more aware of every shift of his body and every breath he took than you would be if he was really your lover, unable to get a second of rest when being coddled like this. you feared that if you squirmed at all, he would automatically tighten his grip around you, but was pleasantly surprised when you were able to wiggle free. hearing him grunt made your heart stop, but he stayed asleep until you tried to get off the bed and stepped on the ground. hearing him ask where you were going made you sweat bullets, but you just said you were off to get a glass of water.

unfortunately, he decided to get up himself to go get it for you, leaving you sitting on the Alaskan king-sized mattress thinking about your fate. you doubt that you’ll ever get away from him, he’ll just track you down and bring you back. the world is massive, but so is he and you won’t make it very far. you can’t hide from a demon, not for long enough to sigh in relief anyway. if walking on wood with bare feet was enough to wake him from his slumber, hearing you open a door or window would be enough to have him running.

━━━ .°˖✧ luca kaneshiro ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ your prison is a palace dusted with gold, you’re served the finest food on silver platters, you’re decorated with jewels that are worth millions, but the splendor isn’t enough to distract you from the fact that you’re a prisoner. normally, you could only dream of living in a place like this where you’re doted on by a lover and spoiled rotten with whatever you want, yet you would do anything to trade this life for the people he had his men wipe off the face of the earth to have you to himself. it can’t be a paradise when you know it’s stained with the blood drawn by a mafia family.

╰₊✧ escape is next to impossible, as expected of the kaneshiro family. hidden cameras watch your every step and guards are lined up in every hallway to make sure that no one aside from their masters gets in or out, armed with weapons that they wouldn’t hesitate to use if necessary. even if they have strict orders not to use them against you for any reason, they are still allowed to use physical force to bring you back and any injuries will be regarded as collateral damage.

your legs dragged across the polished marble floors of the hall since you refused to walk back to your room, carried by two burly men in suits who caught you trying to run away for the -nth time. just like all previous attempts, you were caught within five minutes, which is an improvement to last time yet still not even close to enough to reach the pearly gates of freedom. knowing that you’ll need more then double of that to get out is disheartening, but everyone knows that you’re going to try again. you’ve learned that it really doesn’t cost anything to make a run for it, they don’t even punish you for it since luca loves you too much for that so they just throw you back on the bed before leaving.

there are a few bruises from their rough handling, but nothing too serious. you’d be willing to walk out of there with a broken arm if needed, you just wanted to go home and see the remaining few who weren’t picked off by the mafia again. later that day, you’ll be gifted with new dresses and shoes that shimmer in the light of the grand chandelier of your room to try and convince you to stay, however, there isn’t any use for such items if others couldn’t see it as well. if you keep trying, you’ll make it a little further as you learn from your mistakes, maybe even one of his men will feel pity for you or get sick of your antics and just let you go. you’ll only know if you keep trying.

#📜. her works #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader

[mvth3r]

daryl doesn’t think he’s anything special. he never has. but to you? he’s everything.

or

5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor.

cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v, mention of injury, swearing, mostly fluff, 4283 words

a/n: this draft got the most votes in the poll, which was surprising tbh! next up medieval au, princess reader, forbidden romance?? hmmmm

one.

daryl hears you coming before he sees you. he knows it’s on purpose, so you don’t startle him (“and get an arrow in the tit or something, i don’t know!” you had explained, laughing). he’s long since taught you how to be quiet when walking over leaves and branches.

his eyes drifted in the direction of the noise, watching you melt out of the trees, water bottle in one hand and knife in the other. you had a bad habit of speeding through or ignoring your own duties in favor of tracking him out into the woods while he was hunting. the teasing looks from rick and carol when they saw the gates open in the evening, revealing the two of you instead of just him, were enough to have him blushing up to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop you. if anything, daryl found himself lingering closer to the prison when he was first setting out for the day and making his tracks a little easier for you to follow as he went on. he liked to think of it as a teaching moment, encouraging you to follow his lessons, but he knew what it really was.

he liked having you here with him, away from prying eyes and ears. daryl wasn’t big on pda, he’d never been, and you knew that, but you could be as affectionate as you wanted out here.

the smile that split you face when you saw daryl was blinding, creasing your eyes and cheeks, “hey, handsome.”

daryl felt his heart start to pound immediately in his chest and warmth radiate through his belly and down his limbs. he had the distant, bizarre thought that any walker for a few miles would probably be able to smell his blood as it rose rapidly to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

he scoffed quietly to keep the words he really wanted to say from spilling unbidden from his throat as you caught up to him, instead deadpanning, “handsome? really?”

you hummed, raising a hand to card through his long bangs, eyes tender when they met his, “mhm, very handsome. don’t i tell you every day?”

you leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, no longer than a moment. you hand drifted from his hair down to cup his jaw as you did, and daryl found himself leaning into your palm, his own hand coming up to grip your wrist loosely.

you pulled away with a smaller, more intimate smile, one that daryl had only ever seen directed at him. and, if you had felt the pounding of his heart through his shirt or seen the intensity of his flush, you didn’t say a word.

two.

daryl was distracted.

this council meeting was dragging on much longer than intended. what was initially supposed to be a quick conversation about planning a run to get supplies for judith and a few of the other kids had turned into a heated debate about possibly opening up the council to a few of the people from woodbury. he could understand why. there was still a stark divide between their group and the new people, but daryl had been content to sit back and let the situation mend itself, so long as it didn't escalate.

the discussion was split down the middle. or.. maybe there were more in favor of maintaining the current council? daryl couldn’t tell because he couldn’t focus and he couldn’t focus because every time he tried to lock in on the conversation, he could feel your fingers brush over his knuckles.

earlier, when the meeting started, you had sat yourself right next to daryl, reached under the table, and grabbed his hand where it was resting on his knee. no fanfare, no lovesick gazes, just your fingers intertwined with his calloused ones like they belonged there. which, he mused to himself, maybe they do.

and so there your hand had remained as the meeting went on. every so often, you would brush your fingers lightly over his knuckles, or give his fingers a squeeze if you happened to catch his eyes… which would lead to you chuckling quietly to yourself when his neutral expression would warm over with a blush.

the meeting had been going on for at least an hour. god.

“daryl, what do you think?”

glenn’s voice cut through daryl’s thoughts like a knife. he jerked a little, almost dislodging your hand when he looked across the table, meeting the expectant stares of the council.

“uhh,” he grunted eloquently, “‘bout bringin’ some of them folks on?”

hershel nodded expectantly, his voice thoughtful, “don’t you think we could afford their input? after all, this is their home now just as much as it is ours.”

your fingers brushed again over his knuckles and daryl willed himself not to lose focus. not to allow his mind to run on with thoughts about the softness of your fingers and how much he liked the feeling of your palm against his. how comfortable-

no.

daryl blinked and cleared his throat, “we don’ even have rick on the council right now, i’on think it’s a good idea.”

glenn nodded along with maggie and, reluctantly a moment later, hershel did too, though his mouth had settled into a thin frown.

daryl felt your hand squeeze his twice, taking it as a nonverbal ‘good job!’, and paused only a moment before squeezing back his own nonverbal ‘thank you’. he saw a small smile flit across your face out the corner of his eye.

before the debate could start up again, you were leaning forward and speaking up, saying, “alright, let’s table this for next time then. the run is already planned for the baby stuff, so—?”

hershel’s eyes swept across the table and he nodded, “meeting adjourned, i suppose.”

three.

the woods were clear as daryl looked out over the gate. he could see everything from the watchtower, as was intended, but for once the calm darkness was not a comfort.

instead, every moment that passed heightened the panic that had been swirling in his gut since earlier that evening.

it had been roughly fourteen hours since you had left on a run with glenn and maggie. there was a small gas station a little ways out that looked to be mostly untouched, and you had been pulled to fill in daryl’s usual slot since he was already slated to go hunting.

he was regretting it now, though, as he continued to watch the road leading up to the gate for any sign of maggie’s headlights.

while the general rule of thumb was to be back to the prison before dark, everyone knew that sometimes shit happens, whether it be walkers appearing at the worst possible time, or not being able to secure the haul. hell, shit happened more often than it didn't, as far as daryl was concerned.

maybe the haul had been much larger than the three of you had planned for, and you had to hide some of it away for a return trip.

maybe y'all had come across a herd large enough to block the car's path and had to find a way around it to get home without leading them back behind you.

maybe the gas station had been a bust all together and you’d gone further out in hopes of not returning empty handed.

the thoughts swimming through his mind sent daryl pacing across the small area of the watchtower. back and forth he went, eyes flashing over to the gate of the prison every few seconds.

“you’re gonna wear out your shoes like that.”

oh right. daryl isn’t even on watch, not officially at least. he’d joined carol a little after the sun went down and been up here ever since.

carol continues on despite his brooding silence, “they’re okay. something probably held them up, it happens.”

daryl turned to face carol, scrubbing a hand down his face. he opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the sound of wheels crunching across gravel made him whip back around.

he barely registered that it was maggie’s car before he was yanking the floor hatch open and climbing down. rick, who’d been poking around the farm despite the late hour, unwilling to admit his own anxiety, was already pulling the gate open to let the car in.

daryl stopped further up the hill to meet you, and, as soon as you popped the lock on your door, he was tugging it open with one hand and reaching for you with the other.

you went willingly, a sheepish smile on your face as you let him turn you this way and that, checking for any injuries or bites, neither of which you had.

“sorry i’m late, handsome,” you whispered, “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

daryl grunted in response, resisting the urge to press himself against you and feel your heart beat against his skin. he understood that you were capable, and that you had lasted just as long in the apocalypse as he had, but he can't help but wonder if he'll ever get used to this, or if he'll spend any moment you aren't within his reach on the edge of a panic attack.

by then, rick had made his way up the hill to the car and was helping unload their findings from the boot. all things considered, the three of you had brought back a pretty decent amount of stuff.

“everyone alright?” rick questioned, eyes skirting over the contents of the trunk to scan the three of you instead. "what held y'all up?"

maggie shook her head with a smile, “nothing like that. we found a good bit at that gas station, but there was a map of a small trailer park a little ways away, and we thought it was better to go for it while we were right down the road.”

“and we had the space anyway. didn’t make sense to waste a second trip, but it took a little longer to search than we thought,” you added. you had turned to face the group and, under the cover of the dark, you leaned back just slightly into daryl’s side.

carol, who had followed daryl down from the watchtower, hummed, and rick nodded thoughtfully. they both followed behind maggie and glenn, grabbing as much as they could carry from the car and heading up to deposit it for sorting tomorrow.

now alone, daryl took a moment to breathe you in, but he was moving soon as well, heading for the trunk to grab what was left.

he didn’t notice you coming up next to him until he felt your fingers slipping into his pocket.

“found something for you,” you said quietly, standing at his side.

daryl patted his pocket, feeling the dented box of what he assumed to be cigarettes and looked over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“i noticed you ran out the other day,” you answered his unasked question, a small smile lifting your cheeks, “combed through every trailer looking for ‘em.”

with that, you turned away from him and back to the trunk.

daryl stood speechless, his heart building up to that rapid thrum he only seemed to feel in your presence.

you had brought something back for him. had spent the daylight rummaging through dirty trailers on the off chance that you’d find a pack of cigarettes to replace his empty one that he himself hadn't even bothered to go searching to replace.

he wanted to think he didn’t understand why you would do something like this, why you would care, but he did. he’d done the same for you, time and time again on the road, if only to see you smile. he understood exactly why.

“‘preciate it,” he grunted, thankful that the darkness surrounding you kept his blush from being too obvious.

you hummed in acknowledgment, and daryl could your small smile growing out the corner of his eye.

four.

having sex in the prison was no easy feat, mostly due to the lack of privacy. a sheet could only provide so much, and even then it did nothing for the noise echoing constantly off the concrete walls.

as far as most were concerned, maggie and glenn had found the best spot early on, making the most unused watchtower their designated private retreat, but you and daryl knew otherwise.

deep in the tombs, which were no longer a threat as they had long since been cleared and sealed, there were a few tucked away offices that had sat empty even after the woodbury residents had been moved in. noise didn’t escape the tombs, and no one ever just wandered in, especially not in the middle of the night, so despite the cell that you and daryl shared, you both much preferred spending your more intimate moments here.

well, daryl did. you weren’t picky, and could be quiet when you really tried, but it made daryl more comfortable.

he’d like to think it was just because he was wary of any listening ears, especially with all the children roaming around, but he knew the truth of his resolve.

daryl had never been a selfish man, and certainly not after the world fell. everything he had, everything he was, he would give to his family in a heartbeat.

but this.. this was just for him.

your body arched beautifully under his, legs falling open to accommodate his weight settling against you. daryl’s hand left your heat, fingers dripping with wetness, to squeeze your hips, using them to guide you as your moved against him.

you were already bare, both of you having stripped each other of your clothes between heated kisses while you stumbled in the office. you hadn’t even made it to the double-stacked cot in the corner, daryl instead pushing you firmly down on the dusty desk and leaning in to mouth at your neck.

you moaned under him now, a breathy sigh of his name, and the sound sent a shiver down daryl’s spine.

“needy girl,” he grunted teasingly, reaching down to grasp his hardness. he dragged the head of his cock up your slit, collecting your wetness and smearing it over your clit.

your head knocked back against the desk and a loud groan burst out of your throat. your knees tried to close around daryl’s waist as if to keep him away, but you arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer to your body, and he leaned into you willingly.

your voice trembled when you spoke into his ear, want dripping from every syllable, “please, baby. need you inside me so bad.”

and god, daryl wanted to make you beg for it. he wanted to wait until he could see the desperation in your eyes and then wait some more, but he couldn’t. not when you looked so pretty spread out beneath him and your hands were petting over his shoulders and neck just how he liked. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose, but he knew better. this was just you.

you couldn’t stay off him when he was in you, always tugging at his hair or rubbing his chest, hands scrabbling for any skin you could reach. it used to send him reeling, flustered and blushing bright, but now he looked forward to it. he could feel the want in your touches like physical imprints of your affection.

daryl pushed into your slowly, groaning deep in his chest. your slick walls felt heavenly around him, but daryl was more focused on you right now.

soft whimpers fell from your lips as your hands drifted over his sweat slicked skin. daryl’s thrusts were slow but purposeful, and he ignored your legs squeezing around his waist, trying to urge him to speed up.

“relax, peach,” he soothed, hands drifting up and down your sides in pace with his thrusts, “i’ma take care of you.”

“kiss, please,” you whispered, voice floating past daryl’s ear. he would have missed it if you weren’t pressed together like this.

daryl would not describe himself as a selfish man. he might have had his moments in the past, but now, with the dead walking and a prison full of survivors to protect, it was virtually out of the question.

but as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, feeling your hands finally make their way up into his long strands, daryl thought that he might be a possessive man.

he’d sooner spread you out deep in the woods than have you where anyone could see you like this or hear the noises you make.

no, daryl thought, tongue sliding in your mouth to tangle with yours, this would always be just for him.

five.

daryl came into awareness slowly and then all at once. he startled, trying to sit up, but a searing pain made itself known in his abdomen. the pain clouded his senses, blooming out across his torso and down his limbs. he flops uselessly, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.

hearing bits of voices above him, daryl wills himself to focus. he’s hurt, obviously, and it’s pretty fucking bad, but he’ll have to suck it up and figure out a way home if he’s in bad company.

the voices start to filter in. the volume makes his temples throb in rhythm with his abdomen and his heart as the situation starts to force adrenaline through his body.

“—harder! put more pressure on it!”

daryl relaxes just a bit. that’s rick. frantic, angry, but rick all the same.

“what the fuck do you think i’m doing?!” the other voice, higher, snarls in response, “just drive the damn truck!”

and daryl feels his body try to relax all together. he would recognize your voice in his sleep, and this milky haze of pain is no different. he can feel your hands pressing a wad of something soft into his abdomen.

he can hear your panicked breaths and feel the way your fingers flex continuously against his skin. whatever’s wrong with him must be bad, and it definitely hurts like hell, but daryl takes comfort in the weight of your body against his. you won’t let anything happen to him if you can help it, you’d sworn that fiercely, and if you can’t help it then he doesn’t think anyone could have.

daryl can just barely make out the creaking of the gate being pulled open over the sound of rick laying on the horn.

as they pull in, the gravel of the path rocks the truck and daryl feels the ache in his abdomen bloom again, distracting him from his thoughts, but here, knowing he’s safe and back with his family, he allows himself to drift away.

—

this time, when daryl comes into awareness, the first thing he feels is fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently as if to untangle a couple of knots and snarls.

without even opening his eyes he knows it’s you. he can feel the heat of your body settled next to him and smell the soap you like to bathe with. daryl leans towards you, chasing the warmth of your hand against his skin.

the bandages on his stomach are wrapped tight, but it’s more annoying than anything and the pain has finally, thankfully, subsided to a dull ache. daryl stretches on the cot, trying to loosen him limbs from their inactivity, but what he focuses on is your fingers immediately pulling away.

“daryl?” your voice prods quietly, “you awake?”

he opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight that streams through the bars of the cell. the privacy sheet isn’t down, actually there’s no sheet at all, daryl notes as he looks out. he must be in one of the cells near hershel’s.

“‘m up,” he grumbles, a cough working its way out of his throat. before he can attempt to clear the dryness, you’re standing to grab a bottle of water off some boxes stacked nearby and pressing it into his hand.

your fingers linger against his wrist as you pull away, but you’re resuming your previous position anyway, in a chair brought right up to his bedside.

daryl hasn’t sat up yet, staring instead at you as one of your hands return to his hair and the other rubs down his arm.

a few quiet moments pass before you speak again, head bowed and voice a little choked, “we almost lost you. i almost lost you.”

“didn’t though,” daryl croaks. he feels your grip tighten on his arm and just knows. knows that you’ve been sitting right here every moment that you could since he went down. knows that you probably haven’t had your hands off him. knows you’ve spent the time, however long it’s been, agonizing over what went wrong and how to keep it from happening ever again. he knows.

“i didn’t,” you agree with a barely restrained sniffle. you refuse to allow the tears beading your waterline to fall, but daryl sees them all the same.

oddly, he feels that familiar warmth blossom in his chest. he hates to see you upset, but to see your love, your heart laid so bare for him? daryl thinks he can finally understand the depth of your affections.

plus one.

to anybody who knew what to look for, it was obvious that you and daryl were.. something.

you remembered when the woodbury residents had really began to settle in, how they began to whisper about ‘the hunter and his lady’.

it had confused you at first. the group knew, of course, nothing could be kept a secret from them for too long, but for strangers? it was odd, given that you weren’t very public with your affections.

regardless, with an entire prison to secure and almost triple the amount of people to provide for, it was nothing to think too hard about. there was always something that needed to be done or something bigger to think about. you couldn't afford to think about it now.

eventually, though, you ended up mentioning it to carol, and the older woman had laughed, a teasing edge to her smile as she considered you.

“i think it has less to do with you and more with him, if i’m being honest,” she said.

“more to do with.. daryl?” you said slowly, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “nah, no way.”

carol hummed, her smile turning knowing, “just watch. he’s more affectionate than he gives himself credit for.”

you’d left the conversation feeling like carol had no idea what she was talking about. later that evening, though, when you were sitting with the group for dinner and daryl was sliding a couple pieces of meat from his plate to yours despite your multiple protests, you understood.

your face must have been the textbook picture of a lightbulb going off because carol sent you a wink from across the table, lips twitching like she was hiding a laugh.

it wasn’t that the woodbury residents were over analyzing the very minimal physical affection that passed between you and daryl in a day, no. instead they were observing his quieter, more unconscious actions.

they saw the way that daryl always took care to come and find you before leaving for a run, even if it meant holding everyone up a little.

and how every so often they could find daryl sharpening a knife that was far too small for him to be wielding safely while you sat nearby, watching with a grateful smile.

and how whenever you were in the same room, you always had his eye. daryl had been adamant about keeping you within his sights while you were on the road, and the habit hadn’t left him just because you were behind walls now.

even now, months later, the newer additions to the prison were starting to catch on quicker and quicker.

they overheard daryl talking to glenn about taking your place on the run later today because you’d overdone it in the sun earlier and he wanted you to get some rest.

they saw you gush excitedly every time daryl brought you back any kind of gift, whether it be a pretty rock that he thought you’d like, or your favorite animal to cook into the stew.

they watched him watch the road every time you left for a run, regardless of who was with you, and also saw him come back to be the first to greet you when you returned if he could help it.

daryl was a quiet lover and a private man if you didn’t know what to look for, but if you did, you’d see that his affections ran just as deep as yours.

your thoughts brought a sleep smile to your face as you stretched out on the cot in your shared cell, waiting for daryl to shut off the lantern on your makeshift nightstand in the corner.

you could barely make him out in the dark, but the weight of him settling in next to you sent you right into his arms, your head pillowed on his chest while his arms came up to wrap around your back.

you tilted your head up to place a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw, mumbling a quiet, “love you.”

daryl’s arms tightened around you momentarily before loosening again. you felt him lean down to press a kiss to your hair in turn.

just over the steady thumping of his heart against your ear, you could hear him whisper back, “love you too.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd imagine #daryl x reader

[elixrr]

Valentines Day：Stages of Love!

STAGES：how they fell in love (1), them as they pin for you (2), how they plan the confession (3), their confession (4)

ft：GAMING (1.8k words), WANDERER (2k words)

FIC：fluffy headcanons + their confession to you in dialogue!｜day 1 of my late valentines event...

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “You received some mail...”

➥ “...Read it?”

— ➢ GAMING：

STAGE 1 - how he fell in love with you.

➥ It was spontaneous, really. It didn’t really occur to him at the time, but you had your kamera out, and you were taking photos of the scenery around you two. The day started out as a simple hangout between two friends– two best friends. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, either. You went around Qiaoying village, checking out the stalls and simply having a good time in each other's company, until you went on a small little raft with him. Sailing the lakes of Liyue, you took pictures of Teyvat's golden hour, and Gaming couldn't help but stare; he watched your light and serene smile while taking and printing photos to keep for yourself and give to him. As previously mentioned, it didn't occur to him at first, but there was a swelling in the beat of his heart, Gaming nearly thought he was sick, but he wasn't. He tore his eyes away once, and they automatically dragged back to you, like his eyes were your loyal puppy, always wanting to see you and be by your side.

Eventually, it wasn’t just his eyes that longed for you.

You were admirable in his eyes, it seemed. After the hangout, the feelings continued to linger in his heart. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, a smile broke into his expression– a little brighter than usual– and he couldn't bring himself to sleep that night. Tossing and turning in his sheets, but not from a nightmare. Gaming was horribly confused; why was he feeling like this? A slight burning feeling simmered within; if only he could hold you right at this moment.

That's when it hit. And it hit hard.

STAGE 2 - how he's pining for you.

➥ Gaming's crush on you became more persistent. He's heard a story or two from his friends and how crushes typically lasted between a few weeks to three months, and any longer than that would just mean they're head over heels. So, not wanting to push anything that could hurt later, he waited patiently— or, at least, he tried to wait as patiently as he could. Patience was something that he eventually lost. Eventually, as in, he was stripped of nearly all of his patience after the first week. Gaming was never the type to get super jealous, he loved people— he still does— and it shines in how extroverted and eccentric he is, but sometimes when you spoke to people and seemed to have more fun with them than you did with him, he would get... Rather insecure. He once asked you if you were getting bored of him, and he was immediately proven wrong.

After the span of three months was over, he still found himself head over heels for you. It chilled out a little more, he can control how he acts again, but everyone notices that extra jump in his step, the extra sparkles in his eyes when you draw near, and especially the slightly larger smile he carries around with him before hanging out with you, while hanging out with you, and just a little after he hung out with you. Gaming was adorable with how smiley he became with you around, and when you brought it up, he became really flustered. If you catch onto things easily, then you probably figured out that he likes you. If not, then don't worry because he's going to plan to confess.

Though, it takes almost a full year of having a crush on you for him to realize that he needs to confess.

There was indeed a time when Gaming thought he was going to lose his chances. You and Chongyun grew closer. Gaming didn't know Chongyun that well, but you introduced him to the small little hangouts. Gaming was fine at first, but once he was called over by one of his relatives during a stroll around Qiaoying Village. By the time he could get back to you two, you were having the time of your life, and Chongyun seemed ecstatic. Gaming knew that he had issues with his yang energy, hence why he was so composed half of the time, but to see him breaking out of that composure with you? Gaming stopped in his tracks that day. He followed behind the two of you but didn't bother to let either of you know. Of course, with a swell in his heart when you noticed him first, you brought him back into the conversation. Though, he was quieter. He was a little duller than he usual. Where did his smile go? Where did his bright, sparkly eyes go? What about that spring in his step every time you spoke to him? It's not that he lost interest in you. No, it's that he thought you were losing interest in him. Eventually, he realized that he should probably ask Chongyun if he liked you. That question took weeks to muster the courage up for.

When he got around to asking and he learned that you and Chongyun were just really chill friends, all of the spring, spark, and smile that he lost all came back to him. But now the question stood tall.

Did you even like him back?

He was advised by Chongyun and Xinqiu to confess, and that's when all of the planning began.

STAGE 3 - him planning the confession.

➥ Chongyun and Xinqiu were kind enough to help Gaming with his confession. The original plan was for him to just serenade you during a romantic ride on those bamboo rafts, but Chongyun worried for the third wheeling boatman, so they all devised a plan for the giddy Gaming. Gaming will ask you to ride a raft with him, and Xinqiu will dress up so that you wouldn't recognize him. He'll also be there for the friendly wingman support. Chongyun will have the area feel colder but won't freeze the lake itself. Even while Gaming cringed at the whole idea, Xinqiu and Chongyun agreed to it. It's too romantic to pass up, Gaming giving you his hoodie when you're cold in supposedly warm weather is too good to become a lost opportunity. The plan, after a few hours of playing cards, eating dim sum, and snacking on winter melon cakes, was set. When the weather's good, Gaming will take you out on a boat ride as per usual, but there's suddenly an expensive price for a boat ride. Before you can even think to take your wallet out, he'll whip out some mora and give it to the disguised Xinqiu, plus an extra tip. Then, Xinqiu will use a mini music box that he received from his Fontanian friend, and some cute, romantic music will play in the background. After some talking, you should be able to notice a sudden cold wind with the help of Chongyun and a wandering friend named Kazuha, then Gaming will lend you his hoodie with the excuse that he's fine and he can take the cold. This will all happen around the golden hours of Liyue, just like how it was when he first caught feelings for you, and just before sunset, Gaming will pull out a fresh Qixing by Xinqiu's area, and he'll confess. Whether or not you accept is up to you, and that alone is enough to wreck his brain.

The planning is done; the date is picked between the three, plus Kazuha's approval. All that's left is for the confession to be carried out.

STAGE 4 - the confession.

➥ Now, it was time to confess. Oh, how terrifying the thought and much more nerve-racking the feeling. Gaming met you by the river, and you looked as stunning as ever. Funnily enough, this was your usual fit, your typical and casual clothes, but something felt more different. Gaming's heart beat with love and a little nervousness. Strangely, you already had your wallet out, so on the way to the raft, Gaming was sure to keep his hand in his pocket, making sure that he had all of the mora ready for the raft payment. He kept a flowing conversation, and you, as usual, kept it cool as well. It momentarily paused when you both saw the disguised Xinqiu, but something felt off in Gaming's gut when you took his hand and lead him to the raft, which, funnily enough, was the last available raft nearby.

“Hello, my dearest friends. Would you like to ride on this fine raft?”

A smile grows on your face before Gaming can say anything.

“Yes, we'd love to.”

Your hand squeezes Gaming's tightly when you shift your gaze and smile over to him. He's distracted momentarily, blushing at the feeling of your fingers interlocking with his.

“How wonderful! That will be 10,000 mora, please.” Xinqiu politely bows with his hand out, extending towards you, and you're suddenly closer to Xinqiu to pay for the raft.

This is bad, super bad! You hand over the necessary mora to Xinqiu and wink at him, lending a hand over to help Gaming up onto the raft. You're strangely prepared for this, hell, you're even wearing... Something warm. That's. Not good. The plan isn't going the way he needs it to! Gaming watches you take the seat next to him and admire the scenery around. He's nervous, evident by how he constantly plays with his fingernails, or how his sight spills all over the place— how he flickers his eyes over to you, then to the waters beneath the gaps of the bamboo. He aligns his sight with the direction of the raft, and he watches the ripples of the water flow with the serene waters of the lake. It's calming slightly, but there's still the nervous pound in his heart.

Gaming looks back at you. You have your kamera out, and you're taking photos of the scenery with a small smile on your face. There's a bloom in Gaming's heart. He finds his gaze lingering too much onto you to notice that you've taken your own cardigan off, resting it on your lap. The Adam's apple in his throat bobs a little. He needs to confess, and it's going to happen soon— if not right now.

Your gaze falls onto him, and he nearly jumps in his seat. It's strangely quiet and rather cold. In a desperate attempt to fill the void of silence, he stutters and exaggerates a cold expression,

“It's... It's really cold now, huh? That's weird. It's awfully cold for spring!”

“In that case, here. Take my cardigan, it'll keep you warm.” You smile at him knowingly, wrapping the cardigan around the blushing, confused Gaming.

Wait, what? He was supposed to do that!

You smile at him and turn back over to the scenery around. You have your hand resting near him, and he can't help but stare at the reflection of the light lingering on your hand. It's attractive, everything about you he finds so attractive, every insecurity and every part you're proud of he takes and smiles proudly with. Gaming is deep in love with you, and it's clear as glass right now as he takes your hand in his and gently taps his thumb against your knuckle.

“Hey. So, can I... I have something to say.”

You send your undivided attention to him as he speaks. His heart pounds against his chest, and he subconsciously squeezes your hand.

“I've been thinking. We've been really close 'n cool friends for a while, don't you think?”

Darn it, Gaming, get to the point! He yells at himself, and the burn of an embarrassed blush glitters across his face.

“Listen, Gaming.” You interlock your fingers with his again, and you give him a soft, sweet smile.

“I like you, too, okay?”

And with the peck of a kiss on his cheek, a small, sudden, yet very giddy smile grew on his face. He asked for re-confirmation, and when you gave it to him, he nearly fainted on the spot with joy.

You and Gaming held hands, and a shared smile bloomed between the two of you. You leaned in for a kiss, and Gaming allowed you— but before a kiss could happen, Xingqiu interrupted with the snap of his Kamera.

You and Gaming turn around. Xinqiu smiles, taking the photo out of the kamera and hiding it behind his back, whistling as if nothing had happened.

You and Gaming realized then and there that you would thus receive the teasing of a lifetime.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “1 new message...”

➥ “...Read it?”

— ➢ WANDERER：

STAGE 1 - how he fell in love with you.

➥ Wanderer was and is a special— very special case. He's a puppet beneath the porcelain skin; there's almost nothing under it. He's hollow, meaning he has no heart. So what would explain this strange feeling within? Nahida suggested a fondness for you through the form of love, but Wanderer thought it was impossible. He's a puppet, and not only does he lack the heart to love, but he has never loved before and certainly wouldn't now.

Of course, that simply wasn't the case.

Wanderer always felt some sort of ache when it came to you. Nahida's suggestion of fondness found itself dug into his mind rent-free, even if he fully disagreed with it. He felt like you were simply more annoying than anyone else he's ever met. Yet, there was this one time that he considered the possibility that maybe... Maybe it is love, after all.

It was his birthday, and you hung around with Nahida to surprise him. The surprise wasn't anything big, but it was nice enough to have left a stain ingrained in his memory of it. You and Nahida had baked a cake made especially for him, and the party was held at a vantage point. Funnily enough, that same day was the day where he wanted to show you this exact vantage point, but you had already discovered it first. You joked that it was simply meant to be, and a faint blush dusted Wanderer's cheeks— though, he'd never admit it to be of embarrassment or love. The birthday party, as mentioned before, wasn't that big. It was you and Nahida, but there was a particular point that had Wanderer questioning if he needed a heart at all for his "possible-and-horrible-wave-of-fondness." In his eyes, it was one thing to see his semi-savior, Nahida, all giddy and happy to be able to finally celebrate the birthday of another, but it was a whole other treat to see your smile. He found himself lingering on you for too long; he felt an ache within that longed for something— even when he tried to dismiss it, that was the beginning of his spiral of love. That longing never went away. Later that day, after you had left, Nahida would tell him how easy it was to spot, but he ignored her and went off for the night. He took himself to the highest spot of Sumeru, and he sat quietly on the branch.

You were back on his mind. Your smile, your eccentric self, while eating the cake. Everything was wonderful. You were wonderful.

You are wonderful.

A smile creept in from his teeth, accompanied by a sigh.

Wait.

You're... wonderful.

Images of your smile flashed within his mind, and that same ache and longing pinged and rang within his chest, where a human's heart could have been.

A memory of Nahida's words play in his head.

“Perhaps it is indeed a sign of your fondness for them! Humans feel it for one another, and oftentimes, they refer to the feeling as love.”

Does he love you?

The ache pounds against his chest.

Oh, for archon's sake.

Wanderer's face turned red at a thought:

He really might be in love with you.

STAGE 2 - how he's pining for you.

➥ The days and weeks after his birthday, he sought you out more than he could've ever thought he would. Sometimes, he'd run into you buying groceries at the stalls of Sumeru. Other times, you'd be sitting in a small field of flowers, and he'd be flying by. You didn't seem to mind his presence, though. Actually, evident by your smiley faces and happier expressions, you seemed to enjoy it! The thought, without realizing it, made him happier than usuaI. While it wasn't evident with a spring in his step, if you looked closer, there would be a dozen sparkles in his eyes every time he glanced your way. Except, you'd know better than to get too close. Otherwise, Wanderer would've smacked you silly.

He’s become a little softer towards you than he is with anyone else. Even with his specialty of degrading everyone around him, he can’t bring himself to be rude to you in an honest way. Any harsh comment is followed by an ache in his heart whenever he sees you either pissed or bothered, and he finds himself incapable of thinking badly of you. Strangely enough, he thinks of you more than he talks to you nowadays. It bleeds into his day-to-day schedule when he’s in the Akademiya, studying for his classes, or doing his work. Wanderer doesn't really have much to do with his days. He thinks of you during classes now, too. He's unsure if you attend classes or if you've finished school, as he's never bothered to ask, and you've never brought it up. Either way, when the lectures start becoming white noise to him, he wonders if you're also in a classroom right now, bored and thinking of whatever you think of.

If only you might be thinking of him, too.

A tiny smile breaks his bored, motionless lips. The professor goes off about the lesson, and his mind goes on about you. Wanderer couldn't care less if he missed information; he understands the material anyway. He simply wants to think of you right now.

Suddenly, the students around him shoot up from their seats, grabbing their things and head for the door, and he follows in suit with the smile wiped off of his face. As he passes through the room, a few people gawk at him, but he dismisses them. Wanderer would only allow you to gawk at him.

He left the Akademiya immediately, running off to some secluded spot where the other students wouldn’t bother him and have him snap out of his thoughts. As of late, he found himself enjoying his days a little more whenever he had some time to himself, especially when he thought of you during that snippet of time. Yet, this time, he doesn’t have to simply think of you. Walking down the path to the ground-leveled city, Wanderer saw you around the corner. You were talking to someone, but a flurry of heartbeats synced with the swirling thoughts racing through all at once. The feeling gets annoying because he basically runs into you every other day, but he acts as though he hasn’t seen you in years. There’s a sudden skip in his heart that forces him down the pathway a little faster to startle you with his approach. Wanderer always found it amusing whenever you’d jump out of your skin at his sudden appearance–

But this time was different. Wanderer stopped and stood idle.

Just why was the General Mahamatra holding your arm like that? From the angle he stood at, he couldn’t see the wound on your arm, but something shot down every ounce of excitement and confidence he had in himself. He felt cheated on, but you weren’t even dating him! Cyno notices him from the distance and lets go of your arm, almost glaring at the boy. You, following in suit, turn around to see Wanderer. Even with that fabulous feeling wasted away, Wanderer still looked at you like you were the only important person to exist. You’re graceful in the way you turn his way, but your wound catches his eye quickly. Is that why Cyno held you like that? Because he was scolding you or something? Either way, that’s what Wanderer is about to do with you. He storms over to you, enraged, worried, and ready to ravage the whole universe to find who hurt you…

And it turns out it was just some Mitachurl that you abolished soon after you had gotten hurt.

“Kuni, if you’re just so worried about me, why not stick by me more often? Besides, we run into each other basically every day now.”

“You can be my travel buddy, I guess!”

“That’s stupid.” But he’d still want to be yours.

Cyno dismisses Wanderer and gets him off of your arm, and you’re escorted elsewhere (as Wanderer glares from the distance at Cyno). He thinks for a few moments but ultimately decides to return to the Sanctuary of Surasthana to pay Nahida a little visit…

STAGE 3 - him planning the confession.

➥ Nahida, when asked, simply told Wanderer to bring you over to some nice, secluded spot and tell you how he feels. He’s been told that the confession doesn’t have to be anything big, but maybe just some nice scenery would do you both some good. Wanderer slightly hoped that Nahida would tell him not to confess, but he knows her better than that. The plan, when made, was simple: he'll ask when you're free, then he'll take you to some nice spot nearby, sit you down as he takes his seat, and he tells you how he feels. 

Now, does that sound appealing to Wanderer?

No, of course not.

Wanderer would prefer it if he just didn’t tell you at all. Feelings are awkward for him because he’s not used to romance. He’s not used to anything positive or good coming his way. Wanderer has walls of brick to seal his heart away to prevent further emotional pain. There’s no way he would tear all of that down just to be with you.

“But it’s already broken!” Nahida says with a cheeky smile, startling Wanderer.

“What?”

“Sorry,” the archon giggles, “I read your mind just now. What I mean to say is that you already trust them enough as is! The walls you’ve built have already been broken?”

“It’s still stupid, anyways. What if they don’t even reciprocate? Then what would I do?”

Nahida scratches her head a little, thinking of all of the experiences that she’s witnessed over the past two years of her freedom.

“Isn’t that what confession also determines? You let them know that they like you, and then you learn if they reciprocate or if they don’t.”

Thus, after a small debate with himself and Nahida, Wanderer decided to… Simply tell you how he feels. Shouldn’t be that hard, right? Though, when he finds himself unable to bring up a potential day to choose, Nahida asks you when you’re free, and thus the plan is initiated.

All that’s left to do is wait, prepare, and execute.

STAGE 4 - the confession.

➥ The morning of the plan arose. The break of dawn and the sunrise’s sunlight spilled across Teyvat all at once. The cold corpse of the moon faded with the blue sky, and Wanderer was all but asleep. In fact, he was frantic– panicking, not even a drop of sleep soaked into him. He’s, despite refusing to admit it, terrified of meeting you at that vantage point and possibly getting humiliated after letting his feelings pour. 

Wanderer walks out of the dorm provided by the Akademiya and takes a stroll. It’s still early, and not too many people are outside yet. The air isn’t cold, it’s less humid than usual, but it’s still cooler than usual– the slightly-frosted breeze brushing against his porcelain arms. He can’t feel the cold, but he still shivers with the pressure of what might happen.

“Kuni?” Your semi-groggy voice calls out to him. He turns around, and he feels his chest nearly explode.

“You? Why are you up so early?”

“I dunno, Nahida told me to meet up with you later today, so I wanted to go out to get you something.”

Get him something? His could’ve-been-heart pounds in his chest.

“Why did you want to meet with me anyway?” You walk over to him, meeting his pace.

“I’ll tell you later. No snooping around yet.”

“Why?” A sly, teasing smile grows on your face. “Are you going to romantically confess your undying love to me under the blissful moonlight at your favorite romance novel scenery with a slow breeze hitting us? Oh, will there be flowers for me, too?” You smirk, and Wanderer looks at you with a fake look of disgust on his face. However, at that last question, he breaks his face… Slightly.

“That’s a good idea.” He quietly blurts, thinking of possible flowers to give you.

“...What?”

“Huh? What?”

“You’re planning to–” You stammer, a red blush dusting your features.

“Wha–?"

And then Wanderer realizes what he just did.

#genshin x reader #character x reader #genshin fic #genshin impact fic #character x y/n #genshin x y/n #gaming x reader #ga ming x reader #gaming genshin #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #scara x you #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kuni x you #kuni x reader #nahida #nahida genshin #chongyun #chongyun genshin #xinqiu #xinqiu genshin #kazuha #kazuha genshin

[martensite-triangulation]

HBD hungary, easily one of the more cringe and fail countries of the world

#mine #I wonder where it went wrong. Not once in history did that country succeed in anything and it continues to suck even in present days #(I'm hungarian by nationality so I'm allowed to drag it through mud and beyond btw) #(also if anyone is familiar between the current relations of hungary and 🇺🇦 they would probably know that I'm 2x allowed to drag it) #EDIT I capitalized the country name in the original post but now it's no longer capitalized. It doesn't deserve that

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.

I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.

Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?

Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.

More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.

Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.

I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.

Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.

But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.

Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!

Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)

Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.

Noticed But Hoping For The Best

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannyphantom #danny phantom headcanon

[mypoisonedvine]

dark dilf delinquent season cillian lusting after the new neighbors daughter; who not so coincidentally has a penchant for undressing with her curtains open 🫣 & sneaking in guys who kinda (definitely) maybe resemble cillian? from her club nights 😭

he’s dark & like kinda pathetic but we love him anyway

i feel like this is too specific but I can’t get the thought out of my head 🥲

it is very specific but I'm not mad, and I love writing a pervert <3 but a dilf AND a pervert?! yes please!! obviously I love this concept cause I went a liiiiitle overboard with it, oops...

𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 | neighbor!reader x dilf!cillian

length: 3.3k

warnings: m and f masturbation, voyeurism, slightly dark but not very much, unspecified age gap, infidelity

When it first started, he really was just trying to read. It wasn't his fault that the book was boring, or that your curtains were open, or that he caught a glance of you in your window.

It was innocent then, too— he liked watching you do normal things, like put on jewelry or laugh on the phone with a friend. It made him smile... he wasn't sure why, but it just made him feel a little better after a long day, seeing you up there, reminiscing on his younger days as he got a distant view of yours...

But it had been months since it started, and it was far from innocent now. He'd become an expert at compartmentalizing the shame; he'd become addicted to the cycle, to the watching and the waiting and the sick anticipation— not to mention the fear that someday, you'd notice him watching. The fear, and yet, the hope.

"Fuck," he panted under his breath as he wanked himself— not too fast yet, but certainly much faster than the slow and teasing strokes he liked to start off with. You were taking off your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding your arms in that crazy origami way girls do that he'd never totally understood; he bit his lip as his eyes dragged over your back, trying to imagine how it would feel to run his fingers up your spine until you arched it just right—

He heard the kids yell downstairs and he stopped for a second, heart pounding with nervousness as he feared they might come up and knock at the door. He used to only do this when they were gone... but he couldn't pass up an opportunity like this, a perfect view of you stripping in the window.

The noises stopped and his movements started again, fisting his cock with a stifled groan as you reached behind your back and undid the clasp; even having seen your tits probably a dozen times by now, his mouth was slack and dry in anticipation of you turning around and letting him see them again.

You teased him for a while longer, messing with your hair and stretching your arms up until he found himself mumbling between panting breaths: c'mon, baby, show me— lemme see, sweetheart, fuck, please...

Sort of like willing a stoplight to turn green, it's obviously not possible but it will work at some point: you turned and faced the window, your eyes shut with a sigh as you started to open your jeans. He had to grip his cock's leaking head tight just then, too overwhelmed with the view of your breasts— he was afraid to come too soon.

He'd never had to hold himself back like this before, never delayed his gratification— because, normally, it's totally antithetical to the point of masturbation. He only ever jerked off for the gratification, and he only ever watched porn to help get there a little faster... but you, you were so much better than porn. The thrill of doing something wrong, the longing of knowing you (if not very well) in real life, the lack of control over you and being, in a sense, at your mercy as you undressed as slow as you wanted... it was all just terribly erotic. And he refused to let himself come until you let him see a little more.

You slid your jeans down your legs and he actually bit his lip, just to muffle his moan. "Yes," he whispered to himself, cock pulsing in his grip as he watched you step out of them, turning around to lay them over your bed— and giving him the perfect view of your ass in those cute cotton panties as you did it. "Fuck," he grunted, twisting his hand over his tip and feeling his hips jerk instinctively— he couldn't think of the last time he was so sensitive. "See what you do to me?" he chuckled to himself— he wished you could see it, but then again, he had his lights off in the room for a reason. All you could see was a dark window, and for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

You laid back on your bed, looking relaxed and contented as you ran your hand down over yourself— fuck, is she about to--?

You slipped your hand into your panties, and he tilted his head back with a heavy sigh, only allowing himself a second to shut his eyes as his balls tightened up, threatening to blow it all right then and there. He'd never actually seen you touch yourself before— though he had seen you take a vibrator out of your bedside drawer and, infuriatingly, go to take a shower where you presumably got to use it with complete privacy. The image in his head had been plenty to get off on that night, but seeing you now as your fingers moved under the thin fabric, your lips opening for what he hoped was a quiet little moan? It was almost too much to bear.

You spread your legs a bit, the angle giving him a hint of a view of what you were doing; he sat up in the chair, leaning to the side a bit, desperate for a better look at how you were touching yourself. Were you just rubbing your clit, or were you going to put a finger or two inside? "Baby," he panted to himself, watching your tits get harder as your hand moved, "baby... y-yeah, just like that, fuck..."

The sight of you playing with yourself was just too beautiful; he had to keep reminding himself to shut his mouth so he wouldn’t make too much noise, but then it would just fall right back open again as you arched your back.  

“Feels good?” he noticed, raking his gaze over every sign of your pleasure.  “Tell me how good it feels…”

He wanted to imagine your voice, then, the way you’d respond to him: feels so good, Cill.  You’d never actually called him that, you always called him Mr. Murphy.  He tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, but anyways, he couldn’t conjure your voice in his head anyways.  He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since you’d babysat for him and his wife… he tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, either.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you took your hand out of your panties and expanded your cheeks with a big sigh; he knit his eyebrows together, watching you roll over and grab your phone off of the nightstand by your bed.  His sicker side instantly assumed you were going to find some porn to watch, but your lackadaisical attitude about the whole thing made it seem more like you’d had a sudden mid-masturbation urge to check Instagram.  Kids and their phones, he thought to himself, even though you were far from a kid— he was just much, much further from one than you were, is all…

And, this should come as no surprise by now… that turned him on too.  He’d come to be weirdly fascinated by his own perversion, finding it just as shameful as he did sexy.

His phone vibrated on the desk and his screen lit up— he wasn't going to answer it at first, nothing was more important than watching you right now... but then it went off again. He looked at it and back at you, seeing you getting up suddenly and walking around the room... surely you hadn't come already? It certainly didn't look like it.

Even though he couldn't imagine why you'd stopped so abruptly, he figured it was a good opportunity to make sure the messages weren't important. He awkwardly got up and grabbed his phone, feeling a bit strange about walking around with his jeans open and his erection poking out. Unlocking his phone to read whatever was sent, he felt a massive sigh leave his chest as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

He never even saved your number, but he recognized the previous conversation you'd had-- just a few texts back and forth about a little backyard gathering your parents were having, and some question about when you needed to come over to watch the kids, but you usually messaged his wife about that kind of stuff.  But since he’d committed those brief conversations to memory, it took him only a split-second to know it was you— and, obviously, seeing that you'd just texted him, he thought his heart might just stop right then.  He had to blink some blurriness out of his vision to even read them, with how fast the damn thing was beating.

hi mr. murphy.

turn on the lamp on the desk.

He whipped his head around to look back at you, only to find you smiling around a bitten lower lip, staring right into his window.  Fuck.  Fuck!

He set his phone down, not sure what to do— and quickly locking the screen as he realized you’d probably seen the glow of it.  He groaned softly again as he watched you sit down on your bed again, facing directly towards him, those pretty legs spreading nice and slow as your hand moved over your panties again.  Fuck.

He felt like he was in a dream or something as he flipped on the lamp— maybe it was an out of body experience.  If he was out of his own body, he at least knew whose he wanted to get into: he never took his eyes off you as he slowly walked back to his chair, sitting back down in it and meeting your half-lidded gaze as you tossed your phone away and used your free hand to toy with one of your hard nipples.  “Fuck,” he said aloud this time, seeing your eyes trail down to his cock— it was still out, of course, sticking up proudly against the black shirt covering his stomach.  Maybe it was proud, but he was a little bit terrified, his face getting hot as he snatched the throw pillow nearby to cover himself with; he saw you laugh, sighing through his nose dreamily as he wished he could hear the sweet sound of it, and then shake your head with a grin.

You stood up then, turning around and bending over as you ever-so-slowly pulled your panties down, making him purr as he got a thorough look at your bare ass.  You looked too damn good bent over like that— what he would give to stand behind you, pushing your shoulders down with one hand as he gave that cute arse a good spank with the other—

He saw you looking back at him, a proud smirk on your face; “Dirty girl,” he scolded under his breath, watching you stand up straight and sit on the bed again.

Your legs were pressed tightly together, and when he look up to your eyes, he found them focusing on the pillow in his lap; you met his gaze again, a pink tongue darting gently over your lips.  A silent promise: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.  With the way it made his heart pound and his palms clammy, he felt like a schoolboy all over again.

He grabbed the pillow and slowly moved it away, your legs opening at the same pace in perfect time with it; he groaned through a tight jaw as he stared at your pussy, one of your hands running down to spread the sticky lips even wider for him.  “Fuck,” he moaned, holding onto his cock tightly again as he felt totally helpless to the sight of it, unable to look away.  “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled, starting to stroke himself as you bit your lip again and rubbed your clit with two fingers— the nails still had that baby pink polish, the one he’d watched you paint on a few nights ago.  Why was something as simple as that so sexy?

Your mouth fell open, and your head tilted back; he tried to imagine how you’d sound, your sweet voice a little darker and deeper with pleasure.  You rubbed yourself a little faster, a little harder, and he felt his lips curl into a sneer.

“Good girl, like that,” he panted, “play with it for me.  Play with that cute little cunt— f-fuck, yes—”

You looked at him again, eyes glued to his cock, and he felt it flex in his grip as if it wanted to wave to you; he saw you smile, an oddly sweet smile for something so dirty, and he watched your fingers slide down to your tiny, seeping opening.  He nodded in encouragement, watching your face fall into a shockingly innocent gasp as you slid a finger into yourself.

“Yes, baby,” he moaned, “y-yeah, s’it warm inside, sweetheart?  Bet you’re so fucking tight, baby, I know your pussy is so goddamn tight—”

You pumped the single finger in and out, head falling back for a moment, and he squeezed his cock tight again to try to hold back another close call— he’d feel pretty stupid coming so fast with you watching, but he’d been doing this a lot longer than you had… fuck, how long had you known he was watching you?

Your mouth opened wider as you pushed another finger into yourself, and his hips shifted roughly in the chair, his hand moving faster as he growled.  “Fuck, it’s not enough, is it?” he hissed.  “Two little fingers isn’t enough— you need my cock, fuck, you need my fuckin’ cock— I’d fill you so good, sweetheart, I’d be so fuckin’ deep inside you—”

He was almost bucking up into his own hand now, his whole body suddenly pulsing with energy— it was a good thing you weren’t here now, even if he wanted it more than anything: he would’ve treated you awfully if he could’ve gotten his hands on you, fucking you hard and rough, tossing you around, pinning you down… he needed you so bad, he couldn’t imagine having the patience for anything but one of those nasty, fast, rough, animalistic fucks.  He’d fucking ruin you right now, if he could.

You were rough about it, too— roughly pinching and tugging on your tits, roughly fucking yourself on your fingers… you even pulled your hand out and gave your clit a little smack at one point, and he choked on his loudest moan yet as your body jolted.

“Dirty fucking slut,” he growled, “fuck, come for me.  Please, baby, I need to come, I need to fuckin’ come—”

You were saying something, obviously he couldn’t hear a damn word of it, but the shape of your lips made him pretty damn sure you were chanting over and over: yes, yes, yes—

“Come, baby,” he begged, knowing he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, “let me see— show me how you come, sweetheart, show me that pretty face when you come on your fucking fingers— soak them, honey, come for me—”

You were shaking all over, legs quivering and tits bouncing with the force of it— you pulled your fingers out and he could fucking see it, see that cute little hole flexing, and obviously he was done for pretty much instantly.  He moaned roughly as hot ropes of come painted his shirt, rolled down his shaft and shaking fingers, one drop even finding its way down his balls which was sort of pleasantly ticklish…

You looked so gorgeous coming like that, your hand and pussy all shiny with your arousal, your eyes heavy and your lips swollen from all the biting… he blinked quickly as he tried to catch his breath, letting go of his slowly-softening cock and leaning back into the chair.  You smiled at him; funny how, even now, that could make his heart skip.  He watched you stand up and wiggle your fingers in a cute little wave at him as you approached the window, and his tired smile fell quickly when you reached for the curtains.  “N-no, don’t go,” he pleaded softly, leaning forward as if he could stop you somehow, “please, wait—”

You slid them shut suddenly, and he whined a little as he fell back into the chair, running his (clean) hand over his face as he contemplated what he’d just done.  When his phone vibrated again, he jumped up to grab it, but frowned in disappointment when he saw it was from his wife.  Be home in a few, please come help with the groceries.

He tried to type a quick reply, only to grimace when he realized how filthy his hand was.  He wiped it off on his shirt— but his shirt was filthy, too.  Sighing, he set the phone down and took the whole thing off, balling it up to toss into the hamper, leaving him in just his undershirt.

Going straight back to his phone, he opened the conversation with you, praying to see that little grey bubble pop up or something; he started to type a few times, things like will I see you tomorrow? or come over next time the house is empty, but he always felt like an idiot and ended up erasing it.  He didn’t get a chance to think of a good thing to send before he heard a car pulling up in the driveway.  Shoving the phone in his pocket, he sighed and made his way downstairs, navigating around the pillow fort in the living room to get out the front door.

“Just help me with the bags in the boot, will you?” she asked him, not even looking at him, as she rifled through whatever was in the backseat.  He opened it, sighing as he looked at them.  Nothing like a bunch of brown bags to bring you back to reality.

His eyes widened when he heard his wife say your name, and he poked his head around the car to see you standing there, wearing a zip-up and leggings.  “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy,” you smiled, and he figured he looked like a deer in the headlights— if a deer could hold a paper sack full of pasta and biscuits— as your gaze fell on him.  “Hi, Mr. Murphy.”

He opened his mouth to try to respond, but nothing really came out; “Looks like you’re going for a run,” his wife noticed, saving him for the time being as your attention turned to her again. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “figured I could use some exercise.”

He cleared his throat, just a way to try to fight the lump forming in it, but it unintentionally caused both women to look at him again— once again, he found himself uselessly floundering for a response, and only getting out a soft ‘er’ before you said something.

“Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt, Mr. Murphy?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“It’s fine,” he choked out, “I was feeling kind of hot anyway.”

You smiled at him, then waved goodbye to his wife as you pushed your earbuds in and continued walking down the street— you were acting so innocent that he started to feel like he’d dreamed up the whole thing.  

She probably saw him staring, watching you jog down the sidewalk, that ass looking terribly familiar covered by the athletic leggings; but she didn’t say anything, only shutting the car boot to get his attention as he finally carried the paper sacks into the house.  "She's sweet, isn't she?" she broke the moment of silence as they walked up the driveway together.

“I-I guess,” he tried to sound as non-committal as possible.

“You don’t think so?” she pressed, apparently noticing his cryptic answer.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe she’s not as sweet as she looks.”

#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

[tasteracha]

brother’s best friend

word count: 2.4k

warnings: possessive behavior, reader is called sweet girl, afab!reader

synopsis: you told your brother chan that his 25th birthday would be eventful, a true milestone, but even you couldn’t have prepared him for the mess that unraveled. or alternatively, minho, your brother's best friend, is your friends-with-benefits-but-with-feelings.

you and chan have always been more of best friends than siblings. having such a small age gap meant you always had the same teachers, the same hobbies, the same circles of friends - of which included lee minho. 

lee fucking minho. 

the man has been in your lives for longer than you can remember, since you used to ride around your neighborhood on your pink tricycle and him and chan would chase behind you like the young boys they were. the older you got the less annoying he seemed to you - you found yourself seeking out his company instead of shying away from it. it was different than the rest of chan’s boys. hyunjin and felix were your comfort, the ones you went to when you needed a shoulder to cry on or a hug to make all your problems disappear if only for a moment. changbin and jisung were chan’s right and left hands, or wings as they liked to call it. you couldn’t find your brother without those two anymore, it’s a good thing you like them so much otherwise you would go insane with their constant presence. jeongin and seungmin were the two youngest, snarky and pouty and your favorite thing to do was to smother them with cuddles and kisses just to hear their complaints. there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them.

minho somehow managed to encompass all of that. his comfort, his constant presence, his aversion to touch from anyone that isn’t you. it’s no wonder you ended up making out over the console of his car when he drove you home from a party last year. 

and again in a dingy club bathroom, away from prying eyes and secret-spilling lips.

and again under the tree that you used to climb together when you were younger.

and again. and again. and again.

the amount of times you’ve hooked up are more than you can count on both of your hands, now. you both know you’re exclusive even though neither of you have talked about it. there are too many feelings, too much history for it to be anything other than love, even if you’re unwilling to admit it yet. 

which leads you to now - sipping a fruity cocktail that’s probably more liquor than juice even though you can’t taste it. you’ve been nursing it for so long that the ice has melted and the condensation is dripping off your fingers, but it serves as a nice distraction from the guy that’s been trying to chat you up for the past hour or so. 

trying is the key word. he’s incredibly dull, and for every thirty words he’s spoken you’ve barely gotten in one. he’s been telling you about some business his friend is starting with him, and he reaches out to touch your shoulder when you finally catch sight of minho across the room. he turns towards you as if he feels your gaze on him, and his eyes harden when he sees the guy’s hand on you. 

if eyes could kill, the guy would have two burning holes smoking on the back of his head right now. you gently shrug the guys hand off of you, taking a sip of your drink as minho stalks across the room and slides up behind you, snaking an arm around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. his fingers are digging into your skin and you can feel the tense set of his jaw, and you waste no time twirling out of his hold.

“min,” you hiss. your grip on his arm like a vice as you drag him to the kitchen, flirty boy left behind with his hand still outstretched. if minho wasn’t wearing a jacket you’re sure your nails would be digging into his flesh right now. “what are you doing.”

“i’m just showing everyone here who you belong to, or have you forgotten?” he purrs out, not caring for a second how irritated you are at him. did you say you were in love with him? you take it back. not an ounce of love is present right now.

“you know we can’t,” you frown, knowing that his actions are because of his emotions, not because he wants to mess with you or chan. “not here.”

his eyes narrow and he lets out a breath, crossing his arms like a child. 

“if one more of those brats looks at you wrong, i won’t be able to stop myself.”

you didn’t know if it was a threat or a warning. maybe it was a promise. 

the night goes on. you try and stay glued to chan’s side the entire night, knowing that minho wouldn’t try anything with his best friend standing right there. it also helps that chan is always surrounded by his friends and not random guys that showed up because they heard about the event, so there was no opportunity for Jealous Minho to show his face. 

shit goes a little sideways when your bladder catches up with you and you have to use the bathroom, alone in your trek up the stairs where you know the cleanest one was. 

the flirty guy whose name you don’t remember is waiting at the foot of the stairs when you return, his insanely white smile glinting from the fairy lights you helped hang up earlier. 

“i thought i lost you,” he said, blocking your escape from the hallway. “i wanted to get your number? if that’s okay.”

before you could come up with some way to politely decline, minho reappears as if summoned by someone other than him giving you attention. he moves his body physically between you and the guy, baring his teeth like a cat. 

“she’s not available,” he almost growls, standing at his full height. it’s somehow intimidating even though the guy has a couple of inches on him. 

“whoa, okay,” the guy says, holding his hands up in surrender as he backs a foot away. “i didn’t know. no harm right?”

“there was definitely harm-“

“all good,” you interrupt minho, poking your head out from behind his shoulder. “nice meeting you, but you should probably go.”

he walks away and you expect minho to deflate, but he still stands with his hackles raised like a predator. 

“i was going to handle that,” you pout when he doesn’t say anything, honestly a little turned on by his caveman-like behavior even though you would never tell him that. he knows you can fight your own battles, even though he decided to step in. it’s a matter of him showing the guy who has a bigger dick, rather than him being narrow minded. 

“i’ll show you what you can handle,” he grumbles, gesturing at you to follow him as he stalks away. 

you follow him like a helpless moth to a flame as he leads you into the guest bedroom on the main floor. you let him, the fight inside of you having not left but waiting for the right moment. not in front of everyone, your brain supplies helpfully. 

“what, you didn’t want to use chan’s bedroom?” you ask as he closes the door behind you. “really seal in the deal, since there’s no way he doesn’t know about us now-“

he cuts you off with a searing kiss, his hands ember-warm on either side of your face as he holds you close to him. 

“do not talk about your brother when i’m about to fuck you,” he murmurs against your lips. 

oh. 

“who says i want you to?” you back away, false bravado coating your words. of course you want him to. you never stop wanting him. 

“you’re telling me you’re not wet right now?” he arches a brow at you. “i saw how you were looking at me. you forget how well i can read you.”

the unspoken sentiment of you can say no, it’s your choice is hidden in his words. you know him just as well as he knows you, well enough to be able to read between the lines that he’s laid out for you. 

but he’s right - you are wet. the feeling gets more intense as he steps back into your space and you let him, meeting his lips with a sigh. 

he kneels to the floor when you part, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down with your panties inch by inch. he presses fluttering kisses to each bit of skin that’s revealed until your legs feel weak and shaky. he tosses the clothes to the side once they’re off, not showing them a fraction of the reverence that he shows you as he stands and helps you to lay onto the bed, cushioning your head onto the pillows. 

he drapes his body over yours after dealing with his own pants and boxers, leaning his head down to kiss and bite at your neck as he slowly grinds against you. 

“mine,” he mumbles into your skin, making your skin flush and your entire body sing. 

“yes,” you breath out, tilting your head back for him. he jerks at your verbal confirmation, growling into your neck before leaning up on his forearm to look at you. 

“come on, my sweet girl,” he says, letting the head of his cock slide through your folds in an infuriatingly teasing way. it catches in your clit with each swipe and you have to bite your tongue to hold back the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth. the sounds coming from your bodies are already obscene enough. “show me who you belong to.”

“fuck, i’m your-“ your sentence can’t even make it out before he sinks into you in one full strike, his hips connecting with yours. a gasp leaves your throat and he smirks, a satisfied glint swimming in his eyes like there always is when he pulls out a reaction from you. 

“let me hear you,” he says, rocking into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him dragging in and out of you. you slide your hands into the back of his shirt and dig your nails into his muscle, letting out a moan when he pushes his hips even deeper. 

“yes, yes,” your voice is strangled, your breath is punched out with every push of his cock. you’re so full of him, he’s covering every inch of you and yet it’s not enough. “please, more?”

his eyes go soft when he looks at you, and he presses a kiss to your cheek, then the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. 

“how can i say no when you ask so nicely?” he says, voice soft and just bordering on condescending. he picks up his pace, the headboard rocking back and forth with your bodies as he rolls his hips in a steady rhythm. 

you’re letting out little staccato bursts of breath in tune with his movements that morph into thready moans when he switches his angle just so. he’s hitting that spot inside of you just right, making your entire body feel like it’s on fire and doused in ice water all at once. you feel the pressure building in your lower belly, too soon even though it feels like he’s been fucking you for hours. 

“come for me,” he pants out, the exertion catching up to him even though he doesn’t pause even for a moment. “please, baby, i need to see you fall apart for me.”

so you do. your legs shake as your orgasm takes over, clenching around him over and over and you can’t even keep track of the noises spilling out of your mouth because it feels so good. 

he keeps going, even as you begin to twitch in the pleasure-pain of oversensitivity until he’s pulling out and spilling onto your thighs. he collapses next to you, pulling you close so he can bury his face into your hair as you both come down from your highs. 

“i love you, you know that right?” it’s the first time you’ve said it to him. the timing is wrong, the location is wrong, but you couldn’t let yourself leave this room without telling him that. he jerks away and blinks as you, once, twice, three times before kissing you until you’re breathless again, not giving you any time to regret your words. 

“i love you too,” he says when he pulls back, his lips red and shiny where they’re pulled into a helpless smile. his hair is a mess and his eyes are watery and tinged a little pink but he looks beautiful. 

“well, lover,” you grin, pressing one last peck to his lips. “clean yourself off of me, please.”

his smile drops into a scowl but his eyes stay soft as he rolls off the bed to find a towel. he cleans you up gently and helps you back into your clothes, contrasted by the way he swats your butt once you’re both dressed. 

“my shirt is wrinkled,” you whine, looking down at the mussed up fabric hanging from your frame. 

“it’s a party, everyone’s shirt is wrinkled,” he says, smoothing his hands down your sides. “no one will notice.”

but when you return to the living room it’s not your shirt that you have to worry about. most of the party had left, leaving only seven of your closest friends. 

seven of your closest friends that are now staring at the two of you, all conversations paused when they notice you there.  

“really? minho?” chan says, arching an eyebrow. he looks stern, but you know him; it’s a show. he’s not really mad. a breath of relief rushes out of your lungs. “of all of them, minho? you couldn’t have chosen seungmin?”

“hey,” seungmin pouts from across the room, looking offended. you can’t help the laugh that bursts out of your lungs at the put-out expression on his face, and it’s like the tension in the room deflates. everyone relaxes, even minho, who sags against you a little bit.

“trust me minnie,” you start, shrugging. “if it was a choice i could make, i would have chosen you in a heartbeat.”

seungmin’s blinding smile is overshadowed by minho’s affronted shout, followed by a chorus of laughter from all the people you love. 

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #lee know smut #lee minho smut #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n

[kooktrash]

make a wish | jeon jungkook [ birthday drabble ]

DRABBLE FOR: ROMANTIC DREAMS but you don’t have to read it, this drabble can stand alone

summary: hours before his birthday, his friends force him to come out for a night of drinks only for him to be mad the entire time that you’re ignoring him. he comes home early worried you might’ve left but what he saw instead made his birthday all the better when the clock strikes midnight.

warnings: smut. birthday sex. jk is at the club but misses oc lol. 3.8k words

The feeling he got anytime he came out for drinks with his friends never changed. It always felt suffocating to him from the crowds of drunk people all against each other to the overly loud music he couldn’t even pay attention to. It was overwhelming, to say the least.He hated the looks he got and the way people tried to talk to him. He hated how loud his friends were and how they felt the need to bring him up to complete strangers like any of it matter. It’s his birthday weekend, you wanted him to celebrate with all of his friends and yet he couldn’t care less about any of that. He was more interested in finding out why you weren’t here tonight and why you weren’t answering your phone.

“Come on man, just one drink and then you’re free to crawl back to Y/n,” Jin joked as he patted the guy on the back, “But we want to hang out with you for your birthday at least once.”

“Y/n’s not answering the phone,” Jungkook warned as he was led to the bar, “So I’m probably just gonna head out.”

“Dude, Y/n’s not a kid, you don’t have to watch her every five seconds,” Namjoon asked, “Don’t get me wrong, wanting to spend time with your girlfriend is the bare minimum but don’t you think you go overboard sometimes? It would not kill you to be away from her for one night.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, his gaze hardened as he eyed his friend closely. Namjoon just shrugged despite how blunt he sounded and that only seemed to annoy Jungkook more. Who was he to say that?

Jungkook does not go overboard, alright?

He trusts you… of course he does… but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still think about you leaving him. Something in his gut tells him that if you ever try to break up with him you won’t tell him, you’ll just leave and he’ll have no clue where you went.

He thinks you’ve finally grown to love him almost as much as he loves you but he just can’t get over the amount of times you told him you were done. The amount of times he’s had to remind you you’re not going anywhere and neither is he.

He’s gotten better too, he no longer has cameras set up and maybe that’s why he always feels so anxious when you don’t answer. All he’s got is your location so he knows you’re at home, so why won’t you answer his texts?

“Kook?” Namjoon called out to him as he stood at the bar as if he hadn’t just yelled at him, “What do you want to drink?”

“Jungkook?”

He yelled at his friend to get him anything, hearing the call of his name but not bothering to turn and acknowledge it. A small poke on his arm made him take a deep breath and turn to whoever was trying to catch his attention.

“It is you,” She said softly, “Oh my god, it’s been so long. W-y-you just stopped talking to me.”

“Do I know you?” Jungkook looked down unimportant. He actually did have a small recollection of her. They met over a year ago and hooked up a couple times but that was it. He was horny and she was easy.

She looked taken back, “Yeah. You do, asshole.”

He didn’t respond to her, simply glanced down at her angry expression and scoffed as he looked to his friends. They were all busy buying drinks and Jungkook did not care about any of that. He’s been with them since he got off work. They didn’t even let him go home to see you and tell you to go out for drinks. They showed up at the shop, hurried him to close and dragged him to the closest bar. He’s tired of it all. His birthday is tonight and the person he wants to spend it with isn’t answering their damn phone and he’s just starting to get pissed off.

“Okay, here’s yo—“

“I’m leaving,” Jungkook told Namjoon, handing him back the drink, “I’m tired and we’ve been out for hours already. I want to go home.”

Namjoon checked the time biting his lip, he was supposed to stall Jungkook from getting home per your orders and it’s been difficult all night to keep him from running to you. He’s never seen his friend so… in love [?], is that the right word for it? His need to know where you are, why you aren’t talking to him, who you’re with, was intense. Namjoon just knows Jungkook is at his limit with you ignoring him. All he could do was nod his head and give up, “Alright, can you drive?”

Jungkook only had one drink and even then he didn’t finish it before they tried getting him another so he felt fine. He was just bothered that you’ve yet to reach out to him.

He made an attempt to call you, one last time, as he got in his car but like before you didn’t answer and he can feel his patience running extremely thin. Why weren’t you answering him?

The first thing Jungkook noticed when he got back to your shared apartment was how dark it was. Usually [especially now that he’s made the place his own now], the apartment had a dark aura to it. It probably had to do with the mixed decor the two of you had up like his black sketches of skulls and serpents next to your framed photographs of Baby’s Breath and lavender. He’s used to it by now but right now… it’s too quiet…

“Y/n?” Jungkook called out and you could hear the growing annoyed panic in his voice. He dropped his things from work down to the ground without any care. He hasn’t seen you since before he went to the tattoo shop in the morning and now it’s almost midnight and you’re nowhere to be seen.

As Jungkook turned down the hallway, he seemed to freeze. Just below his feet where he hadn’t noticed them before, laid a trail of black rose petals. He followed them with his gaze seeing them disappear under the closed bedroom door where he could see a hue of red lighting inside. With a curious tilt of his head, he walked along the petals, twisting the knob on the door and immediately feeling his heart race.

Your bedroom which had become a concoction of gothic knickknacks and floral patterns, was a deep shade of red. His vinyl played one of his favorite Deftones songs, Mascara, and there you were.

He stopped at the door, eyes taking in the sight around him but all he could do was look down at you surrounded by candles littered across the room and music playing softly to set the mood and suddenly he wasn’t angry anymore. You had been ignoring him all night and that drew him insane but seeing you laying in bed wearing nothing but a black lace lingerie set made him forget all about that anger.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my calls?” Jungkook asked despite feeling giddy inside from all of this. Your lingerie was thin and fitted, it hugged you in all the right places and you looked so inviting with your legs slightly spread open for him, laying in a petal of black roses. You didn’t say anything, only lifted a single finger toward him and motioned for him to move closer.

Your boyfriend was never much for the theatrics, he liked doing it too much to wait, so you weren’t surprised at all when he reached for the back of his black shirt and yanked off over his head exposing his muscles, torso and nipple piercings. His tattooed hands unzipped the front of his black jeans and kicked them off immediately before walking toward the bed with a dark look in his eyes.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you said sitting up a little when he brought a hand to the back of your neck after crawling over your body to kiss you, “But you’re always so impatient.”

“You were ignoring me,” Jungkook whispered against your lips as he sighed softly into the kiss, “I don’t like when you ignore me.”

“So you’re not happy with the surprise?” You asked despite knowing the answer. Jungkook has only just now gotten undressed and you can already see the growing bulge in his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook looked down at your pliant body laying pretty underneath him, unable to help himself from dragging his index finger over the tip of your nipples that peaked through the sheer fabric, “I love it, just dlike nt ignore my texts again, okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as he kissed along your neck lovingly, his teeth softly nipped at the skin until his tongue was running over the marks soothingly. He was already on top of you trying to control the situation and you put a hand on his chest to move him off. His brows furrowed as you began to say up forcing him to do the same, “Why don’t you lay down and let me take the lead for once, yeah?”

“Bab—“ his words died down when your finger tugged at one the bar piercing on his nipple. He looked down watching your finger circle around it teasingly scratching against him and he was folding. Now that Jungkook had relaxed a little, you took the chance to move him to lie on his back, straddling hips as his hands found your waist to hold you there. He set you down directly over his hardening length, letting you slide against it for a moment’s worth of friction. Jungkook always got so easily turned on when it came to you. He could be at work doing a tattoo on someone and suddenly he’ll remember what the two of you did the night before, how he fucked you on the kitchen counter or ate your pushy in the bathtub. Sometimes it didn’t even have to be about sex. He would think about seeing you fresh out the shower or wearing a shirt of his and nothing underneath.

“Y/n,” Jungkook sighed once he felt you lean down for a kiss. It was an open mouth kiss with your tongue pushing into his sloppily the way he liked it, your hands scratching down his ribbed sides feeling every muscle in their path. When you pulled your lips away from his, a line of drool connected your mouths and dribbled down to his chin when you kissed along his jaw. Jungkook’s hands couldn’t sit still, they needed to feel all of you. Your lingerie bottoms were nothing but a lacy thin thong that left little to the imagination but looked good nevertheless. He slid his hands over your butt, big hands pinching and helping any part of you that he could, occasionally making your covered cored grind against his dick. A low moan left his lips when you sucked on his neck leaving a trail of love bites in your wake, moving down to his collarbone and chest.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” you said teasingly as you lucked over his abused nipple that you had been tugging on. Jungkook’s breath hitched when you circled it with your tongue, sucking softly and nipping at the metal with your teeth.

“Always,” Jungkook sighed, squirming a bit as you kissed between his abs down toward his navel, fingers already sinking into the hem of his briefs, “You always make me feel good.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in content, sliding yourself off his lap until you sat perfectly between his spread, muscular thighs, “You always make me feel good too, baby.”

It’s true too. He’s your boyfriend for fucks sake, even if you used to resent him for being the way he was then; there’s no point in still feeling that way when you really do love him—whether it be healthy or not is still up for debate.

Jungkook tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, playing with his lip ring as you yanked his briefs down with a bit of force that had him groaning at the toughness. He’s not used to you taking the initiative, maybe you’ve done it once or twice but never dressed like this in a red and black room made for sex.

You looked down at his length, not surprised at all by the sight of it. Jungkook was hard, his dick was thick and flat against his navel, throbbing under your stare. It twitched like it wanted to point upward but he wasn’t there yet. He needed a little more attention still.

You placed your hands on his thighs for support as you leaned forward to be face to face with his cock, pursing your lips like you were gonna kiss it before blowing air. Jungkook had to rest on his elbows to be able to sit up enough to see what you were doing, just barely catching the sight of you reaching further down and flattening your tongue against his balls teasingly until you licked the underside of his cock too. Immediately his arms gave way and he was laying back down on the bed, eyes squeezed shut.

You wrapped a hand around his base, angling his cock to point upward before running your tongue along the side once more like he was a melting ice pop. You could see his lip pulled between his teeth and his eyes screwed shut in anticipation making you smirk. Jungkook always knew how to make you feel good and it was a boost to your ego to know that you too knew what made your boyfriend feel good. As his cock stood straight now, you licked along his tip, circling around the head and feeling him throb in your first when you sucked softly against his slit that produced precum.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned as he let his head fall back against rhe pillows with his hands tucked under his neck, hips raising with need to meet your mouth and make you take his cock down your throat. You grinned at the disheveled sight of your boyfriend that was caused by a little teasing and lowered your head starting back down over his balls where you knew he liked to feel your tongue first. Jungkook liked things sloppy, a bit rough and nasty. He loved having his balls played with, feeling your tongue swipe along them, sucking one into your mouth and tugging while fisting his cock. It’s exactly what you did tonight, you paid extra attention to his balls feeling his thighs tighten around you when you began to stroke his dick.

Jungkook was in ecstasy, his cock no longer needed your hand to make him stand straight, he was hard enough to do it on its own and you dug your nails into his thighs when you finally began to take him all into your mouth. A loud moan left his lips at the warm sensation of your spit coating his member, making it easier to slide him into your mouth. He could feel you try and relax your throat all around him and although the wanted to let you take your time, he was so fucking horny. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up, forcing you to take more and more of him at a quicker pace.

You shook your head no, cock in your mouth and a hand flat against his pelvis to hold him down, “Just relax, baby, I got this.”

He huffed impatiently, nodding his head as he tried to calm down, lips parting in surprise when you took him all in one go. If your mouth wasn’t full with his dick, you would’ve been smiling at the way he so easily turned to mush underneath you. You wasted no time in teasing him anymore, bobbing your head up and down while your fist strokes whatever didn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand was fondling his balls avain, squeezing them, massaging them, rubbing them against each other as you made obscene noises with your throat as you fucked him into your mouth. Jungkook’s hands closed in tight fists over the bed sheets, body caving in with how good your mouth felt on him and he was so damn close, “Fucking hell, baby, fuck.”

You could tell he was close by the way he became restless, thighs clenching and unclenching, chest rising and lowering with jagged and fast paced breath, lips drawn apart with moan after moan and it only made you double your efforts. You got rougher, faster, sloppier.

It got to the point where Jungkook had a closed fist over his eyes trying not to overwhelm himself with how good you were making him feel but it had become too much. He couldn’t take it anymore, “Okay, Y/n, there, I’m gonna cum. Come on, need to feel you—oh fuck, baby.”

His head fall back with a loud moan, spurts of thick cum coating the inside of your mouth so suddenly even you were surprised by the amount. Jungkook’s body writhed on the bed, large muscular body twitching with pleasure as he came down your throat. You gagged at the intensity, pulling your mouth away and watching it coat his own dick in it, still softly jerking him off through his orgasm.

“You okay?” You asked lovingly, stroking him as you looked down at the mess you’ve made of him. Jungkook’s eyes were a deep red that made his gaze look darker under the LED lights. His lips looked swollen and cum was all over his pelvis but he was still rock hard.

“Y/n,” his voice grew hoarse, “Need you to sit on dick, right now.”

You smiled, laughing softly as you looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 11:59pm.

“Birthday boy wants to cum in my pussy?” You asked surprisingly. The two of you rarely had sex without a condom but you were on birth control and it was his birthday… your boyfriend deserved this. As crazy as he was, he loved you and you… well, you loved him too or else why would you have stuck around? And right now, you were too turned on to care about the consequences.

Jungkook didn’t have to say anything to have you lining his cock work your wet pussy as you slid the lingerie to the side so it wasn’t in the way. As much as Jungkook loved the way it looked on you, he needed it completely off of you.

His rough fingers tugged at the seams, easily tearing it apart as you pressed his thick head between your folds. You gasped in surprise at how easily he tore threw the fabric, yanking roughly until it was in his hands and on the floor, “Baby… I’m trying to be sexy here.”

“You’re always sexy,” Jungkook said not caring about the lingerie as his hands found your hips, lowering you down his length himself, “But I like you better with nothing on.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, a small moan leaving your lips as this thick head finally made it past your broken hymen making the slide of the rest of his cock that much easier. Your hands fell flat against his chest for support as your feet pushed against the bed to help you raise your hips, his hands guiding you to bring them back down. It started off slowly, you began riding him teasingly only lifting yourself up a little, grinding your hips against his and doing it all over again.

Jungkook was fine with the pace as he took in the sight of your pretty tits in his face and he couldn’t help but move his hands to grope them, thumbs brushing over your nipples as his hips began to thrust up into yours making the slow ducking a little rougher.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly as his thick length hit that special spot at the top, rubbing against your open folds and pleasuring you so well you almost forgot this was for him and not for you. He was at the point where he didn’t care about who was supposed to be making who feel good. Anything you did to him felt good and without a care in the world he pulled you down to lay on his chest, your face against his neck as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck you from below. Your body bounced against his and with an arm tight around your lower waist and the other groping your ass, he was fully taking control to bring you to your first orgasm of the night.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked in a low whisper into your ear, cock working in and out of your tight pussy. You nodded your head, kissing his neck between moans as your cunt tightened around him, “So good.”

Jungkook took the lead with ease, grinding you against his aching member, so close to release once more. The clock had strikes midnight time ago and his phone was being flooded with birthday messages but he was too busy to care. All he had wanted for his birthday was to spend it with you and his patience had paid off.

He came home to you dressed so fucking sexy for him and with a promise that he could cum inside and that alone was bringing him closer and closer to his second orgasm, not worried about finishing too soon when he knew this wouldn’t be the last round.

Your teeth nipped are his neck, nails scratching along his nipples as you tightened around him once more, “Jun—babe, I can’t… fuck, please.”

“Cum for me, do it baby,” Jungkook urged you on, lifting a hand only to bring it back down hard on your ass hearing you squeal at the slight sting but your walls tightened all the same. His cock was reaching deep into your count every time you took him all in and all it took was one final spank, for your orgasm to hit. You released a loud moan into his ear, hearing him grunt as you clenched around and finally you felt the warmth of his release flood your insides for the first time ever.

He was left breathless, cock coated in both your arousals as you pulled yourself off of him and you both watch his release mixed with yours dribble down your legs, immediately turning him on once more. You looked up at him, smile on your face from how good your boyfriend looked after sex. You checked the time once more, hearing his phone buzz and you ran a soothing hand over his thigh and pulling some stray black petals off of him, “I’m gonna get a bath going, how does that sound, birthday boy?”

Jungkook smirked, “Sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll be back, why don’t you start responding to everyone,” you told him with a wink. When you left and he looked down at his phone, a small laugh left his lips.

joon:i hope whatever surprise y/n did for u was good bc u were a bitch to keep distracted

joon: happy birthday

joon: don’t have too much fun with your girl

::.

ugh everytime I tell myself I’m tired of romantic dreams Jungkook I just come back 😭anyways little bday drabble on KooK’s bday 🥺HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt t @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura a @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabble #jungkook request #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook smut #romantic dreams

[feelingf1]

stress relief - lando norris

pairing: lando norris x female!reader

summary: lando’s home during the break, and you noticed that he’s stressed out. you know exactly how to relieve the stress ;)

warning: NSFW (you probably could have guessed from the title)

authors note: sorry for being inactive, school is KILLING me. i didn’t get the chance to proofread this because i wanted to post something :)

Enjoy! X

—————

“Oh my God, Max. You’re actually terrible at this game.” You could hear Lando’s voice traveling down from his recording room upstairs. You couldn’t help but laugh. Lando knew how to handle pressure, I mean he’s an F1 driver after all, but the pressure when he was playing games was a different story.

You fixed yourself a cup of tea and headed to the living room, opting to watch Lando’s livestream on the TV, feeling like you were missing out on the fun.

You watched as they played Rocket League together. You thought the game was a bit stupid, but that wouldn’t stop you from watching your boyfriend play. You loved to cheer him on doing whatever he loved doing most.

“Max, I swear to God.” Lando said as Max missed the goal. Again.

You couldn’t help but notice that Lando seemed really agitated by Max missing a goal, on a computer game. You sat forward more and watched more attentively. Lando had been stressed out in the last couple of weeks, his car was far from where he wanted it to be, but he told you he was over that.

However, he clearly was not.

“Max, I’m actually going to log off if you miss again. I’m not joking.” Lando’s voiced couldn’t have been more stern, but Max seemed to be oblivious to this. “Yeah right mate, you’re just jealous that I’m better than you.”

That sentence set something off in Lando. He abruptly exited the game and thanked the fans before ending the stream, leaving Max by himself.

“Uh, sorry. Lando got an important phone call he had to take. Thanks for the subs and for watching. See you guys later.” You watched as Max lied, trying to cover for Lando’s sudden exit.

You ran up the stairs to check on him.

Knocking softly on the door, you entered and saw Lando staring into space. When he heard you enter he looked over at you with a soft smile.

You went over and climbed on his lap as he was sitting in his gaming chair, and you softly stroked his cheek. “What’s wrong my love?” You asked, your voice soft.

“I guess I’m not over the car being crap, or Max just brought it out again, I don’t know.” You cupped his face in your hands.

“You don’t have a thing to be worried about, Lan. You’re doing amazing.” You smiled softly, watching his face light up from your compliment.

“Thanks, baby.” He replied.

You peppered kisses down along his neck, each one getting longer. “Does this make you feel any better?” You asked. Lando nodded his head, nearly breathless already.

“You know it.”

You started kissing his neck more aggressively, before you kissed his lips. It was soft at first, but not for long when the passion and desire took over the both of you.

You returned to his neck again, leaving marks that would most certainly be visible tomorrow.

“Everyone needs to see that you’re all mine.” You said, lowly. You could hear Lando moan. “Oh fuck, Y/N.

You grabbed the hem of t-shirt and pulled it off, watching as his chain fell back against his body. You climbed off of his lap and went down on the floor on your knees.

You dragged your tongue from his neck down to his v-line, not forgetting to trace his abs along the way. You could feel that he was hard already, and was not in the mood for waiting around.

“Fuck Y/N, please.” He said between moans.

You opened the button on his jeans and yanked them down with his boxers, watching as his dick sprung up and twitched after being exposed.

You grabbed his balls and started massaging them, watching as his head fell back with pleasure. You took his cock in your other hand and guided it towards your mouth, licking a stripe from his base to his tip before taking him in your mouth.

You didn’t take all of him in your mouth at first as your rubbed the rest of his cock with you hand, but Lando needed all of your mouth.

He grabbed ahold of the roots of your hair and guided your mouth down to his base. Once you got used to his length, you sped up. Lando tried to get some words out, but the were replaced by moans.

You took your hand and reached down your trousers, rubbing your clit. Even though you were supposed to be treating Lando and not yourself, you couldn’t ignore your pussy that was nearly dripping wet now.

Lando looked down and noticed you rubbing yourself and he got harder, so he came up with an idea.

“Ride me.”

You looked up at him. Lando wasn’t really a person that ever asked you that question, but you definitely weren’t going to say no.

You pulled off your jumper, trousers and underwear, leaving you in just your bra. You climbed on to Lando’s lap and he guided his cock towards your hole.

You sunk slowly onto him at first, but once your hole was used to his length, you sped up, bouncing on him.

“I’m gonna cum.” Lando said between moans.

He grabbed your bra clasp and opened it, letting your tits fly out. He watched as they hit against you every time you bounced on him. He grabbed them and starting massaging them, and now you were the one that was moaning.

He started sucking on them, and then using his other hand, started rubbing your pussy at the same time. There was no fucking way you’d be able to hold yourself back.

“Oh shit, Lando-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence without moaning.

“I’m gonna cum.” You managed to get out, before tilting your head back and moaning.

Seeing you like that made Lando even crazier. “Me too.” He replied.

You grabbed Lando’s hand that was down at your pussy and starting sucking his fingers, lapping up your juices. Lando couldn’t hold himself back any longer and he came inside you.

The feeling of him cumming inside you always drive you crazy, causing you to come straight after.

The room went silent, apart from the heavy breaths coming from both of you. You lay down on Lando’s chest, your head lifting and falling with his chest.

“Feel any better?” You asked, you fingers dancing through his head of curls.

“So much better.” He paused, “But do you know what would make me feel way better?”

“What’s that?” You asked.

“Round 2?”

—————

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #feelingf1 #lando norris smut

[theemporium]

[1.6k] in which a flower bouquet arrives at your door that certainly wasn't sent by your boyfriend. (based off this request)

series masterlist

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In your defence, you had nothing to do with the prank. 

It had taken a while for Luke to come around to the idea of you and Quinn being together. He loved you both, wanted nothing more than two of his favourite people in the world to be happy. But it still took some time to get used to the shift in relationships considering almost a year ago the two of you barely spoke. 

But all things considered, he was doing much better than you expected—except for one thing. 

Luke had deemed it necessary that his brother proved himself worthy of dating his best friend. 

You thought he was joking. Quinn thought he was being dramatic. And Jack thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, meaning he totally enabled his younger brother into taking the whole thing seriously. 

You had expected Luke to give his oldest brother a shovel talk. Maybe threaten him a little. Maybe even whine about it a little longer, because honestly he got over that phase a lot quicker than you expected. 

You hadn’t expected a series of trials to be set up for your boyfriend.

It started off with random questions thrown at Quinn at the most unsuspecting times, ways for Luke to see if his older brother really knew you. He asked about your favourite colour, your favourite snacks, what you liked when you were sad and so many more simple questions that had Quinn rolling his eyes as he answered. 

Then, it escalated to throwing random scenarios. Like what Quinn would do if you were stranded and he was halfway across the country. Or what Quinn would do if you had been abducted by aliens and returned with no memory of him. Or what Quinn would do if you decided to become a diehard Leafs fan.

It was annoying for Quinn, but ultimately it was harmless. 

You hadn’t realised there was another test. You hadn’t realised you inspired it when you were on the phone with Luke a couple of weeks ago. 

It became a staple in your relationship for Quinn to send you a bouquet of flowers. It was his little way of showing he cared, of showing that distance wasn’t going to get in between him showing his love for you. It was sweet and it made your heart swoon and he fucking adored the way you always called him as soon as they arrived, sharing your reaction to his chosen bouquet each time.

So, in all honesty, it was no shock to you when a bouquet had been delivered to your door that morning. You hadn’t bothered to look for a note because you knew who it was from, you knew that Quinn would probably walk out of your room and see the flowers and throw some stupid, cheesy line at you that had your body flushing. 

“What the fuck?”

It never occurred to you that Quinn was never the one who sent them. 

He stumbled out of your room around thirty minutes after you initially woke up, his eyes still tired and bleary from sleep. He was dragging his feet along the floor as he walked, a pair of sweatpants halfheartedly thrown on as he went off to find you and try to drag you back to bed. After all, it wasn’t often he got the chance to visit you during the season. Spending that limited time together in bed sounded ideal to him. 

However, his body was wide fucking awake the second he walked into the kitchen and saw an unfamiliar bouquet of flowers sat on the counter.

You turned to look at him, your smile waning a little when you noticed his pissed off expression. “Jesus, I know you’re bad before coffee in the mornings but I’ve never seen you this grumpy.” 

Quinn ignored the jab, nodding towards the flowers. “Who sent you those?” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What? You did?”

Quinn frowned as he turned to look at you. “No, I didn’t. I chose tulips. Those aren’t tulips.” 

You shot him a blank look, very well aware the huge bouquet of red roses were not tulips. 

“Maybe you forgot what you chose,” you told him with a shrug, taking a step towards him so you could wind your arms around his waist. You felt him lean into the embrace, wrapping one arm around you as the other reached towards the flowers. “You can’t remember what you’ve chosen every single time.”

“I do,” Quinn said bluntly like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Of course he remembered which flowers he sent you. The boy spent more time than he cared to admit choosing a bouquet, trying to imagine which ones you’d like the most. 

“Oh,” you murmured, but there was a cheesy grin making its way on your face as you placed a quick peck to his collarbone. “Petey was right, you’re such a sap.”

“I still don’t know how I feel about this newfound friendship between you and Petey,” Quinn grumbled when he noticed a note tucked between the stems of the flowers. He reached for it, a frown on his face as his eyes glanced over the note. “Who’s George?” 

You blinked, pulling your head back. “I don’t know a George.” 

Quinn’s expression darkened. “Well, some creep called George knows you and is now sending you flowers.” 

“What?” You grumbled as you reached for the note.

pretty flowers for a pretty girl  –george xx

You blinked. “What the fuck?”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed at the bouquet of flowers, his arm tightening around you like he was proving a point. “They are a terrible set of roses anyways. Red is so tacky. What the fuck does George think it is, Valentine’s Day? He has shitty taste.” 

“I—” You turned to your boyfriend. “Some random guy has my address and is sending me shit, and your priority is his taste in bouquets?” 

“I’m just saying,” Quinn grumbled with a shrug of his shoulders. “He isn’t gonna win you over with some measly roses.” 

You shook your head in response. “Babe, you are—” 

RING! RING! RING!

The two of you froze for a short moment, glancing at each other as your phone’s ringing continued to echo through your small kitchen. There was a moment of hesitation before Quinn reached for it, shoulders tensed like he was expecting to see some unknown number on your screen.

His body visibly relaxed when he saw it was a facetime call from Luke.

He handed you the phone, settling in behind you with his arms still wound around you like he was unwilling to let go of you anytime soon. He hooked his chin on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours as you answered the call.

“Oh. Ew.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled fondly at your best friend. “Is there a reason you’re calling me before ten? I’m surprised you’re even awake right now.”

“Just wanted to check in,” Luke said, his eyes narrowed like he was analysing something. “Hm. You look quite calm there, Quinn.”

Quinn startled a little, lifting his head. “Did you expect me not to be calm when you called?” 

“I was hoping you’d be in some caveman-ish jealous fit of rage. I had the boys on standby to make sure you didn’t tear the college down.” 

You blinked in confusion. 

“Are you George?” Quinn asked, frowning at his youngest brother’s grinning face.

“No, Quinn, my name is Luke.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re a little shit.” 

“What the hell, Luke?” You asked, sighing deeply at whatever your best friend was about to say. You already knew whatever the reason was—most likely encouraged by Jack, again—was going to be too much for your brain to handle this early in the morning. 

“What? I told you I was testing him!” Luke said, like it was the only defence he needed. “The note was hidden in the flowers to make sure he would go looking for it! I wanted to make sure he was putting in the effort with you, if he actually cared about the weird flower thing or if he would just pretend like it was fine.” 

You blinked. “You’re insane,” you said eventually, pausing for a short moment before you continued. “And it’s not a weird flower thing.” 

“I’m going to kill you when I next see you,” Quinn said, glaring at his little brother who looked far too smug for his own good. “And I’m going to shove these roses so far—”

“Talk to you later, bye!” 

You sighed, shaking your head as you let out a breathless laugh. You turned your head, finding Quinn still frowning and glowering, and gently turned his face so you could kiss him. “He’ll get tired of these tests eventually.” 

“Will he though?” Quinn muttered against your lips, his nose brushing against yours. “I swear his next test will be to tattoo your name across my forehead.”

You snorted. “If you do that, I’m breaking up with you.��

“That’s rude,” he mused and, for the first time since he woke up, a hint of a smile was tugging on his lips. “What if I do it on my own accord? Maybe I just want to prove my love for you, baby.”

“I like your pretty face. I’d rather not be staring at my own name whenever I look at it,” you retorted, watching as a full smile spread across his face as he leaned down to kiss you again. 

“Cute,” he murmured before he pulled back completely, a determined glint in his eyes that you knew well. “C’mon, get ready.” 

Your brows furrowed. “What? Where are we going?”

“To burn those flowers and then grab breakfast,” he answered simply.

“Quinn—”

“I refuse to look at them any longer, babe, they are atrocious.”

“You’re so dramatic.” 

“It’s a Hughes thing.”

.

#quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 3 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna finally agrees to meet her new friends at the bar, she learns pretty quickly that the hot guy from the bookstore is actually Bob Floyd. But the fact that she ran and hid from him, thinking she'd never have to see him again, leaves her feeling mortified, and Bob is left to draw his own conclusions.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna took a deep breath as she swiped on some mascara and found her tube of lipgloss. She finally caved and agreed to go to the Navy bar that her friends couldn't stop talking about at lunch every day. She only had about five dollars in her wallet to buy a drink since she sold her car for rent money. She couldn't believe was going to take an Uber all the way to Coronado just to make an absolute fool of herself in front of this Bob character. And worst of all, she was still thinking about the hot guy with glasses from the bookstore. 

"It's okay," she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "At least you're absolutely killing it at work. And you're having a good hair day." She dabbed at her lips, but skipped the concealer. Kevin used to love it when she covered up her freckles which made her never want to do it ever again. Every time she thought about him, her heart skipped a beat, but not in the fun way.

She counted to five and said, "Kevin isn't here." Then she put her makeup away and made sure her computer was plugged in so she could mess around online when she inevitably returned to her miniscule apartment within the next hour and a half. "Let's get this show on the road," she muttered. 

The ride to the bar was uneventful, as she was sure the rest of her evening would be as well. Bob sounded like an absolute dream when Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics talked about him. Anna couldn't imagine him being outright rude to her after the two of them said he was sweet and had perfect manners, but she could already tell what his reaction would be: a kind but forced laugh, and maybe a halfhearted smile. And then Anna would probably get to watch him pick up a different girl instead if she didn't leave right away with her proverbial tail between her legs. 

Maybe she should have stayed home.

"Here we are," the driver said as he pulled into a beachside parking lot as the sun started setting over the ocean. "The Hard Deck."

"That was quick," she murmured, wishing she could stay in the solitude of this backseat a bit longer as she climbed out. "Thanks."

The fact that every day in San Diego was warm and beautiful was going to take some getting used to. The weather almost never wavered here unlike back at home. Anna opened the weather app on her phone and scrolled to her saved location in New Jersey, and sure enough, it was raining there. She nibbled on her lip and checked her work email, dragging the toe of her beat up sneaker on the gavel parking lot. 

She was just stalling now, wondering if her friends would even notice if she didn't show up. They just met her two weeks ago; they probably didn't even really like her that much. Her thumb hovered over her rideshare app as she thought about the two other women just going about their business like normal if she never went back to the weird tree at lunchtime. She was inconsequential to their day.

Anna pressed her lips together and tapped the app. There was a car two minutes away, but the guilt of having wasted eighteen dollars to come here in the first place was eating away at her mind. "Damn it," she whispered as she closed out of the app and shoved her phone into the pocket of her snug jeans. She started walking up to the sand covered wood planks that led to the entrance of the bar, and she didn't stop until she was inside. 

Slow Ride was blaring from the sound system, and the place was pretty packed. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could get the lay of the land, and when she did, she realized she was surrounded by mostly men. "Great," she mumbled, earning a few looks, probably because she had barely taken a step beyond the entryway before freezing up. 

But as Anna made her way closer to the bar, a big guy in a khaki uniform winked at her and called out, "Hey, Red!"

She felt her cheeks warm up which was certainly not going to help with that nickname. "Oh no." Deftly, she squeezed her way through the many bodies until she had one hand resting on the bar. Why were all these men so attractive? And why were they looking at her? 

When a different guy next to her turned and saw her, he stuck out his hand and said, "Hey, I'm Jackson."

"Anna," she replied, slipping her smaller hand into his very briefly before trying to take a step back. But she just ended up bumping into someone else. 

"You gotta let me buy you a drink," Jackson told her with a grin. "Seriously. You're already the best part of my night."

Anna swallowed as she looked around for her friends, but she didn't see either of them. "Um... not yet. I'm not a big drinker."

Jackson laughed merrily. "Aww, honey. You came to the wrong place. Hey, Penny!" Anna watched the bartender turn around with her hands full of two martini glasses. "Can you get this one anything she wants on my tab?"

Penny laughed, and said, "You'll have to get in line, Jackson. You're number four on her roster already."

"Damn it!" Jackson complained with a laugh.

Anna's eyes went wide as Penny delivered the two drinks and then came back and leaned on the bar right in front of her. "By the looks of things, you won't have to pay for a single drink all night. So what'll it be?"

Penny had friendly looking eyes that made Anna feel a little more comfortable. "A ginger ale?"

"Coming right up," Penny replied, reaching for a pint glass and the soda dispenser gun without looking away. "I've never seen you in here before, so I feel like it's only fair to warn you that these guys can get a little relentless."

That was literally the last thing Anna wanted to hear right now. Even Jackson hadn't moved an inch away from her, and her hands were starting to sweat as the ginger ale came gliding across the bar. When she wrapped her hand around the cold glass, she told Penny, "I'm actually supposed to meet some friends here. But I don't see them?"

She smiled and said, "Give me a name."

Anna looked down into the bubbles of her drink and muttered, "Jessica Reed?"

The response was immediate but kind. "By the pool table. Where she always is. Oh, and do not challenge her to a game, because she will kick your ass."

Anna laughed as she picked up her drink. "Thank you so much. And um... could you thank whomever paid for my ginger ale?"

Penny nodded as Anna started to head for the pool table. Jackson pouted at her, and the big guy in the uniform called out, "Come back, Red!" She ignored both of them as she fought her way through the crowd, desperately trying not to spill her drink on anyone. There were a lot more khaki uniforms and even some one piece jumpsuit type things that had patches sewn onto them. She read a few of the patches as she got closer to the pool table. Harvard. Omaha. Halo. Those were some weird names. 

"There she is. Anna!" 

She turned her head when she heard her name, and she saw Jessica waving one hand in the air as she juggled a beer and a pool cue in the other. Jessica actually looked happy to see her as she stood there, all wrapped up in the arms of a guy that Anna couldn't fully see yet. And then her other friend was waving both hands in the air, too, so she waved back. "Hi."

Both women squealed, "Hi, Anna!" in unison, and it was honestly one of the nicest sounds Anna had heard in recent memory. She already felt better about being here now, and that's when she caught sight of who she assumed was Jake. And she was momentarily struck dumb. 

The blonde man kissed the side of Jessica's neck and whispered something before releasing her, and then his green eyes met Anna's as he smiled. She decided immediately that he looked like a GQ model, and that was actually pretty fitting for what would pair well with Jessica.

"Hey," Jessica said, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer. "This is my boyfriend, Jake." She gestured over her shoulder to the GQ model who reached his hand out.

"Hi, Anna," he said with a southern drawl. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh. Same," she replied, biting her tongue before she told him she'd never heard of a man who was sweet enough to pack his girlfriend fancy sandwiches and also had the nerve to look like he belonged on a magazine cover.

"And that's Bradley," Jessica said mildly. 

"My god," she whispered to herself. Her other friend was wrapped up in a pair of thick arms that belonged to a man with a mustache and alluring scars that ran along his left cheek and down the side of his neck into his floral shirt collar. He was every bit as good looking as Jake, but he had dark hair and eyes and looked decidedly a little bit rougher around the edges. 

She blushed as she remembered the comment about how he and his wife liked to use math as foreplay in the bedroom. Right now, he kept pulling his wife closer for another hug and kiss while she playfully tried to escape his grasp, and Anna had to look away, because a flash of jealousy hit her like a brick. 

"Hey, Anna," came Bradley's gravelly voice as he finally released his wife, and she shook his hand as well. "Sugar told me you're from New Jersey."

Sugar? Anna was definitely beat red in the face now. "That's right."

He laughed and reached out again for a fist bump. "Way better than all these west coast losers," he said over his shoulder, earning a middle finger from another seriously good looking guy.

"Stop trying to make her think you're cool, Beer Boy," his wife told him with an eye roll before he turned away to talk to the other guy. 

The problem was, Anna already thought they were all devastatingly cool, and now she was standing here like an awkward fifth wheel. "Do you want a beer?" Jessica asked with a smile. "They have Sam Adams."

Anna didn't want to tell her about the scant five dollars in her pocket, and she also didn't want to have to thank one of the random guys who told Penny they wanted to buy her a drink, so she just shook her head. 

Then her other friend said, "Well Bob is up at the bar right now. You just missed him, actually." She was smirking as she added, "He's probably getting himself a ginger ale, but if you want a beer or something else, he'd be happy to get it for you."

She made like she was about to call out his name when Jessica said, "Bob also likes ginger ale. And the bookstore in North Park."

Anna met her eyes before turning and craning her neck. "He does?" she asked softly, thinking about those pretty eyes and wire rimmed glasses and the smell of tea leaves. And then she saw him. He was here! "Oh," she gasped. He was Bob?

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

"Thanks, Penny," Bob said as he accepted his drink. Two of the guys at the bar were talking about a cute redhead, and all he could think about was the girl from the bookshop who decided after probably four minutes and seventeen seconds that she didn't want to talk to him anymore. He wanted to look around for this mysterious, new redhead, because if he was being honest, that was something he really thought was pretty, but what was the point? She was probably already over trying to talk to Bradley or Jake or Mickey.

Yesterday, Bradley told him to start wearing his uniform to the bar if he wanted more girls to talk to him, but Bob wasn't that desperate. He still had this fantasy where he met the girl of his dreams kind of organically. But maybe wearing a Dungeons & Dragons shirt wasn't the best thing he could have paired with his jeans tonight. Jake took one look at it thirty minutes ago and told him to go home and change into something else.

"Your girlfriend likes it," Bob had told him with a smirk, and sure enough a minute later Jessica was making a fuss over it.

But now he was making his way back to the pool table where the two couples were most likely on the verge of being indecent. Seriously, if Bob had to watch Bradshaw's hands all over his wife's rear end for one more minute, he was going to scream. 

Then he saw her, and he nearly dropped his glass of ginger ale on the floor. It was the girl from the North Park bookstore. Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, kissable lips. She was looking back at him in disbelief. 

Oh my god. He was hallucinating. He must be. Jessica was talking to the redhead who wasn't paying an ounce of attention to her, because she was focused on Bob. Her lips curled into a smile, and he thought he'd better make sure. When he glanced to his left and then his right, he didn't see anyone else who could be on the receiving end of that smile besides him. 

"Bob!" called Bradshaw's wife. "Come meet Anna!"

Anna. That was the name of their new friend from the university. They talked about her all the time even though they just met her. They told him he would like her. But this was the girl who wanted that horrible Vonnegut book last weekend. This was the girl Mickey thought he imagined.

Apparently he hadn't stopped walking, because now he was right in front of the three women, and he had three pairs of wide eyes trained on his face. "I remember you," he said softly. "From the classics section." Her lips parted softly, and her pupils went wide as Bob asked, "Are you Anna?"

She nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink beneath her freckles. He almost groaned, because she was so much cuter in person than what his memory supplied. Nothing about her was flashy, which he almost preferred, but there was no way she wasn't the hot girl that those guys at the bar were talking about. 

"I am," she replied. "And you're Bob?"

He glanced at the other two women, wondering what exactly they told her about him. They looked like they were both holding their breath as he held out his hand and said, "I'm Bob Floyd. It's nice to meet you. Again."

"I'm Anna Webber." She bit her lip, a look of embarrassment overtaking her features as she shook his hand gently. Then he remembered that she ditched him last weekend, leaving nothing but the book he'd already devoured in her place like some sort of parting gift. He released her hand abruptly and cleared his throat.

Now she looked a little hurt, but he didn't know what to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, his nerves getting worse by the second as the other two women practically vibrated with excitement on either side of Anna. "Uh, thanks for that book recommendation. I loved it," he said, barely meeting Anna's pretty eyes.

She gasped and asked, "You read it? You actually read it?"

Bob was trying to formulate another coherent response, but the urge to walk out of the bar was very strong. He was already embarrassed right now, and then he heard Mickey's voice as his friend walked over. "Holy shit, she does have red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey seemed to capture Anna's attention for the time being which really grated on Bob's nerves. Nat would never do this to him, and he couldn't wait until she got home from being deployed. Then Bradshaw's wife was in his personal space along with Jessica. "So she was the girl? From the store in North Park?" she whispered, squeezing his hand.

"The one you had instant chemistry with?" Jessica added hopefully. 

Bob swallowed hard. "Yeah," he murmured. "It was Anna. But the two of you need to knock it off now, because it's probably not going to happen. There's just something about me that doesn't translate well. She kind of ditched me at the bookstore."

"What do you mean?" Jessica practically shrieked, and Bob had to hush her. "You're perfect for each other!"

He closed his eyes and shook his head, letting his awkwardness wash over him. "I don't know, Jess."

When he opened his eyes again, Anna was looking at him while she talked to Mickey, and Bob knew it would take even longer to get over the mystery woman now.

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

Anna couldn't believe Bob was the mystery man from the bookstore. Their chance meeting read like a piece of poetry that had no business being in her life, but the fact that she was meeting him for the second time felt something like fate. And she didn't like it. Not one bit. 

He was so handsome, just like Jake and Bradley. Now Anna was wondering what they fed these men in the Navy, because Mickey was very good looking as well. But the more she spoke to him, the more irritated Bob seemed. And she didn't like how his brow was pinching above his glasses. Not compared to the way he'd looked at her in the bookstore. 

Her mind was a mess right now. And then she remembered that she actually ran and hid from Bob last time she saw him. She started to panic and look around, silently coming up with an escape route, but it was too late. 

"Let's play pool?" Jessica asked a bit cautiously, and that was when Anna fully pieced it all together. Her new friends from work were going to think she wasn't attracted to Bob, but that couldn't have been further from the truth right now. Frankly she didn't know what she should do, so she followed everyone over to the pool table.

Well, everyone except for Bob. He remained at the bar alone, and she couldn't really blame him for not wanting to talk to her after the stunt she pulled in the bookstore. But she was only trying to protect herself. Maybe she could explain that to him. 

She was trying to decide if she would have hid from the most attractive man who had given her the time of day in years if she knew it was actually Bob. That's when she set down her empty glass of ginger ale because she was being handed a pool cue and told to team up with Bradley. She went through the motions, playing as well as she could while she chatted with everyone, but she found herself hoping to catch Bob's pretty eyes looking at her. Once she lost and handed the cue to Jessica, she saw him heading her way, and he had a glass of ginger ale in each hand.  

"Anna," he said softly in that voice that left her shivering. She took the drink he offered her and tried to act normal, but she was still so startled by what he said earlier. 

"Did you really read A Room with a View?" she asked quickly before she lost the nerve.

Bob smiled softly and met her eyes briefly before glancing at the floor. "Every word of it."

She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Kevin never once read any of the novels she suggested for him, preferring modern horror monstrosities instead. And then he went and actually turned her life into a horrific monstrosity which she should have probably seen coming. But right here in front of her was Bob who she had actually already met and formed a pitiful crush on, and she couldn't bring herself to say more than, "I'm happy you read it."

He was blushing now as he sipped his own ginger ale before saying, "Yeah, it was great. I wouldn't mind some more of your book recommendations, honestly. As long as you don't try to get me to read that Vonnegut."

"Cat's Cradle," she said with a laugh that had his gaze snapping back up to hers. His eyes were hopeful as she smiled at him, but she rubbed her hand along her forehead and said, "I'm sorry I... vanished. The other day."

"What happened? I told Mickey I needed a minute, and you were just gone."

She wanted to be honest with him, but she didn't know how to explain herself. And now she was starting to feel like she and Bob were in a fishbowl; so many pairs of eyes were looking their way with next to no subtlety. She cleared her throat and decided to avoid his question. "Have you read any Jane Austen?"

He looked a bit disappointed by her response, but he said, "I have not."

"I think you'd enjoy Persuasion. Or Northanger Abbey. What about Virginia Woolf?"

Bob shook his head. "I feel like I'm about to embarrass myself again like I did last weekend at the bookstore, but no, I haven't read either."

Anna practically moaned at his bashful expression and pink cheeks. He smelled so good, it was unbelievable. Why did she feel so drawn to him? Why couldn't she stop herself from taking a step closer when he muttered, "As soon as you said you knew what Cat's Cradle was about, I figured I was in way over my head. The classics kind of elude me. I'm actually more of a poetry buff."

"Poetry?" she gasped, heart pounding at an overwhelming rate as he swirled his glass of ginger ale around with nonchalance. As if he hadn't just said the sexiest thing any man had ever told her. 

"Are the two of you just going to stand here and play footsie all night?"

Anna looked up to see Jake with a smirk on his face right in front of her. She didn't even notice anyone else in her vicinity before he spoke. Bob was shaking his head and already taking a step away from her when she asked, "Do you want me to text you some more recommendations?"

Bob froze and turned to look at her with a soft smile. "That'd be great." When she handed him her unlocked phone, he quickly added his number before handing it back to her. His calloused fingers felt even more exhilarating this time, which was very bad, because she'd already been thinking about the way he accidentally touched her at the bookstore on repeat.

"I'll send you some of my ideas," she muttered, pocketing her phone again before allowing Jake to pull her away toward the pool table again. She tried her best not to let her attention return to Bob over and over again, but she mostly failed. Sure enough, after a while, she saw another woman break the perimeter of the pool table and make a beeline toward Bradley before eventually turning toward Bob. 

She was really pretty with shiny brown hair, and it made Anna uncomfortable when she touched Bob's arm. It wasn't fair. He was so lovely and soft spoken and handsome. He was even wearing a shirt Kevin would have never been caught dead in, but it made Anna smile. In another version of her life, she would have gone for it tonight. Instead she got to watch the brunette woman hand him her phone just like she'd done a few minutes prior. 

"It's pretty late," she said suddenly even though she had no idea what time it actually was. "I'm going to head out."

Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics both looked a little alarmed. "Already?"

"Yeah," she said, setting down her ginger ale and trying to skirt past Bob and the unknown woman. She gave both of her friends a quick hug and said, "I have a lot to prepare for my upcoming classes this weekend."

"Let me walk you to your car," Bob replied immediately, slipping away from the brunette to be closer to Anna. "Maybe you can give me the titles of the Jane Austen books again?" His cheeks were flushed, and the other woman looked annoyed now which did make Anna smile.

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," she repeated for him as she started to walk past the bar sending a wave in the direction of the pool table. Bob was following her now as she added, "And I don't have a car, so there's nothing to walk me to."

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," he repeated softly to himself. "Will you let me drive you home then?" he asked hopefully. "All I had to drink was ginger ale."

Anna let herself look up at him before she shook her head. "I'll get an Uber, but thanks for offering. It was nice to meet you. Again."

"It sure was," he agreed as he continued to follow her all the way to the door.

With one last glance over her shoulder, she noticed the dark haired woman on her tiptoes looking around for Bob. "Your brunette friend is looking for you," Anna said softly before slipping outside into the cool night air and opening the rideshare app on her phone. Bob didn't follow her any further, and she rode home with disappointment and sadness thrumming through her body. She was out of cheap wine, but at least she had her favorite poetry website to keep her company.

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

Bob groaned as he nudged his glasses up his nose and pressed his fingertips to his eyes until he was seeing stars. "But I like redheads," he moaned to himself. He could not believe it. He really just couldn't get over the fact that tonight of all nights some random woman started to chat him up. Anna could barely look at him to begin with, but now he'd be damn lucky if she actually texted him the book recommendations at all. 

His dream girl was Anna. Anna was the perfect woman he met at the bookstore. Anna was the one he'd been thinking about nonstop, but now he had confirmation that she wasn't into him. That's why she vanished last weekend. That's why she gave him the cold shoulder tonight when he was practically tripping over himself at the sight of her. She was perfect. He was just hopeless. He could keep thinking about her, but what was the point? Now that he knew she worked with his friends, he had to stop this crush in its tracks and try to save face.

"There you are, Robby." A hand snaked around his side to his abs, and he almost jumped a foot in the air. He hated being called that, and he hated that Anna saw this woman talking to him. 

"Hi," he said cautiously, taking a step away from her. 

"Is the redhead your girlfriend?" she asked, clearly annoyed now.

Bob sighed and said, "I wish."

She rolled her eyes and vanished back into the crowd, leaving him alone again. He never imagined he'd have such an eventful night involving the fairer sex. "Damn it," he whispered as he made his way back toward the pool table to his friends. 

"There he is!" Bradley called out with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Big ol' Bob! Did you just give your phone number to not one but two women?"

His wife and Jessica both looked mad now. "I thought you liked Anna," Jessica snapped. "Once we realized she was the redhead from the bookstore, we thought you'd probably end up sneaking off with her or something."

Bob could feel the heat rising in his face. "Come on," he replied, giving Jessica a look. "There's no way that would have happened. And I didn't give that other woman my number. I didn't even want to talk to her." In a softer voice, he added, "She just started touching me for no reason."

Bradley's wife pulled Bob in for a quick hug as she said, "Pretty soon, you'll be as good at dodging them as Bradley is." She looked him in the eye and quietly asked, "Now what happened with Anna?"

"I don't really know." That was his honest answer. "I was excited to see her again. I guess I imagined she vanished in the bookstore like some sort of romanticized Cinderella fairytale or something stupid when in reality she just... kind of got tired of talking to me. She seemed a little uncomfortable when she saw me again tonight, so that must be it."

"I think you're wrong," she said with conviction that almost made Bob believe it himself. "Jess and I will ask her about it next week."

"Please don't," he groaned, shaking his head. "I'm going to go home. See you at D&D tomorrow," he told Jessica before stopping by the bar to pay for the ginger ales, but Penny just waved him on. He left her a ten dollar tip and walked out to his truck. 

It wasn't even that late, and when he parked in front of his duplex, his elderly next door neighbor was still awake with her door propped open for her cat to come back inside. As Bob trudged up the shared walkway with his key in hand, she called out, "Robert! Is that you?"

"Hi, Suzanne," he replied with a laugh. "It's me."

She was sitting on her couch, and he could hear game show reruns playing as she loudly said, "You're home pretty early for a Friday night. Still haven't found a girlfriend?"

Bob groaned. He could kick himself for even mentioning that he wished he had a girlfriend a few weeks ago when he took dinner over for her one Sunday evening. "Still single," he confirmed as he headed for his front door which was all of ten feet away from hers. 

She scoffed, and Bob saw her massive cat, Sylvester, streak back inside. "You must not be trying very hard, Robert. Handsome, strong thing like you."

It was like arguing with his grandma, so he just avoided it completely. "Okay, I saw Sylvester run inside, so I'm going to close your front door. Make sure you lock it before you go to sleep. Good night, Suzanne."

He pulled her door closed for her and then unlocked his, and he walked inside to find his copy of A Room with a View sitting on the coffee table. It seemed to be taunting him like it knew he'd seen the adorable redhead again. And struck out a second time. He was confused and hurt and annoyed, and he just wanted to go to bed and pretend like he wasn't as hopeless as he felt. 

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

These babes need to get themselves straightened out! Anna, he thinks you're not into him! Bob, she's scared to admit she is! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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[aratedfreyjablog]

Squishmallow HC Kings ver.

When they find you hugging a gigantic squishmallow in your sleep. Reader/MC gender neutral!

Satan 

Violence is going to be only thing in his mind when he sees you sleeping while holding a squishmallow

He’s going to be glaring  and grinding his teeth at the squishmallow, regarding it as an angel incarnated from the heavens itself and imagining all the ways he can torture it in the worst and most terrible ways (most of them involving shredding and stuffing flying every where)

When not thinking about tormenting the squismallow, he would be trying to figure out what exactly it’s supposed to be. Like, he can tell it resembles some sort of animal on Earth but its head and body aren’t even separated! Hell, he would’ve felt a tiny bit better if its head and body were separated so he could rip it into two cleanly like he does with other stuffed animals! But what is that supposed to be!?

The only that’s stopping him from doing exactly everything he’s wanting to do was the fact knowing it was one of your precious keepsakes back on Earth and has been giving you comfort during your stay in Hell

That and he finds the image cute of you hugging some sort of stuffed animal in your sleep

Don’t get him wrong though, the minute he finds an opportunity, it’s gone. Dead. Done.

He’s going to remember what it had done to him and have it pay the price once he gets a chance. 

In the meantime, he opts to leaving you to sleep and climb into your bed

He hugs you from the back, pulling you closer to himself and snuggling his face into your head as if rubbing his scent on you will assert his dominance over the thing and show you were his

He’s petty enough to give you a hard time over the whole thing the next morning by making you incapable of walking out of bed for breakfast

Beezelbub 

Sort of shows a similar reaction as Satan where it starts off with him either dragging his cigarette longer and harder compared to normal if having one or being devoid of expression with arms crossed as he simply stares at the scene of you hugging the squishmallow in your sleep

He does feel puzzled by it and tilts his head side to side to try to figure out what it is while taking a quick picture because, even he admits, the scene is 100% cute and blackmail material

But this whole thing doesn’t last long, probably 2 minutes at best

Remember, once he puts his mind into something, he’s going to be sticking to it. And that thing stole the spot that’s reserved for him and only him. As if he’s going to leave it alone and let it stay in his spot

There isn’t any hesitation when he walks closer to you and casually yet quietly rips the squishmallow out of your arms before he quickly slides into your arms without waking you up

It does satisfy him a bit when the squishmallow hits the wall across from your bed before falling face-down on the floor

He holds you tightly and calms himself down by smelling your scent from the top of your head

He may even choose to secretly mark you in a couple of places along your upper body since if he went any lower, it'll definitely wake you up

Now there’s two options he can choose from: 

If he chooses to stay the whole night, he’s going give you a hard time in the morning by “reminding” you who exactly is yours

If not, he’s going to take the squishmallow with him as he leaves to give it a special disposable treatment or draw bunch of doodles all over its face and body to make it ugly and no longer charming in your eyes without guilt

Leviathan

Oh boy, you better prepare yourself because if you thought Beel and Satan were bad, this demon takes the whole cake

He will know whether or not someone or something other himself was in your arms and he will not react well to it

And that’s exactly what is happening when he catches you hugging some sort of abomination in your sleep

There’s none of the whole contemplation or staring - The second he sees it and at where it is, he yanks the squishmallow out of your arms without caring whether it tears or not and hangs it by its nonexistent neck tightly to the point it looks it’ll burst

He doesn’t even care if he wakes you up when he does it as his jealousy consumes him from the mere sight of something other than himself in your embrace

Because of this, this, too, has two options this can go:

If you don’t end up waking up from it, he’s going to contemplate whether or not to wake you only to choose to hold some restraint and let you sleep by yourself. But he does plan on giving you one of the worst mornings involving pain from mostly your spine all the way to your legs, that’s for sure

But if you wake up from the feeling of missing something while he’s still in your room,  he’s not planning to let you go back to sleep and leave you alone until he calms down and feel that he’s marked you or you marked him enough so that you won’t ever look or touch anyone or anything other than himself 

No matter which option you choose, say goodbye to the squishmallow because he does take it with him and utterly destroys it no matter if it’s precious to you or not. 

Mammon

He’s the only one amongst the four that decides peace was an option and doesn’t show a visceral reaction over the squishmallow

Because he was the one that gave the idea to humans to create  the stuffed toy, despite not knowing what it is, he thinks he’s the one that gave it permission to be graced for the night while sleeping in your arms. Though, he does think he could’ve given you something better…

But if it gives you comfort during your stay in Hell, that’s fine. That's a free service that he’s willing to offer as a means to persuade you into becoming a permanent resident. 

Despite finding the image of you hugging such a massive squishmallow endearing as it reminds him of how you hug him in your sleep, he does feel disgruntled over the fact he got replaced

No matter though, he’s bigger than the squishmallow in every single way. That works to his advantage along him being a living being that pleases you in all aspects including pleasure. So, there’s no competition whatsoever

It doesn’t mean he won’t join you in bed. He climbs in and pulls you into his chest from the front, squishing the squishmallow to the point one might pitifully think it’s suffocating

In fact, when you wake up the next morning, you’re the one feeling jealous seeing that you missed out to being the one that gets squished 

Of course this leads to morning playtime once he senses this as you throw the squishmallow out of the bed and dive straight to something that’s much softer and squishier

#what in hell is bad #whb #headcanon #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb mammon #whb satan #whb x reader #whb x mc

[stuckysbike]

More Than One Valentine

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Stucky x Reader, Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader

AU: you finally get Steve and Bucky together- now you need to work out what to do with yourself abs your broken heart.

Warnings: angst, smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, FWB situation, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky, Dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, switch!reader

-

Bucky and Steve finally shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day.

It was a bittersweet moment for you; you’d been trying to get them together for too long and now you had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

In a twisted and complicated situation you’d ended up as a FWB to both of them. It started with Bucky, a wet night with only his leather coat for shelter turned into desperate kissing and more. Then three months later he was on a mission and Steve had come in from a date in a terrible headspace.

You called Bucky because you didn’t know what else to do. Bucky’s advice was to screw Steve’s brains out.

“What?” You stuttered.

“He gets too into his head, you gotta’ help him clear it out doll,” Bucky said in that gruff tone.

“I - but - we-“

“Go ahead. I don’t mind sharing our arrangement with Stevie. Always shared everything with him anyway, you’re no different,” Bucky said as if you were an old coat or a favourite book.

It hurt, deep in your gut like a hand twisting it savagely, but you brushed it aside. You were just a couple of friends who tamed an itch. Bucky probably did it with lots of girls and guys. You weren’t his only one. You couldn’t be.

So you fell into a routine with them. If Steve had any reservations he didn’t share them and his mood changed, not just that night but overall. He was lighter, different like he had a plan again.

It was obvious they were in love, that they wanted each other. Everyone could see it, especially you. You spent most time with them, you saw the subtle touches, kind words and gentle gestures. You would find them making each other breakfast, or always making sure the other one was drinking enough water.

And the sex was …even? You never spent more time with one over the other. You went from one to the other than back.

Sometimes you didn’t even get to shower; after a night with Steve Bucky would drag you to his room in the morning to taste you while Steve went on a run. Sometimes Steve would come in after a long stint of being Captain America and bury his face in you pussy moments after Bucky had went to his own room.

“I can’t take it. They’re ruining my vagina,” you complained to Nat one evening after too many cocktails. The and my heart was left unspoken but you both knew it.

Nat had laughed anyway because in that moment you both needed to laugh. “Set them up.” She poured another drink. She wasn’t even following recipes any longer. It was shots of hard liquor that burned in the best way.

So you did, you made sure the floor you all shared was off limits, you lit candles and played soft music, dimmed the lights. You got your hands on some Asgardian Champagne, scattered rose petals and made sure both their bedrooms had ample supplies of lube and toys.

You made sure your own room had noise cancelling headphones, snacks and a queue of your favourite shows all lined up to make sure you didn’t think too much. Or hear too much.

You should have prepared for a broken heart.

Here they were after confessing their love and finally kissing as they stood in front of the massive windows. You were on the couch, you needed to start them off, convince them to take the leap, but as soon as they got lost in each other you stood and slipped away.

At least you tried to.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, his voice small and vulnerable.

You froze and looked over your shoulder. They were both looking your way, faces unreadable.

“To give you both some privacy,” you said quietly.

“But we need to thank you,” Bucky’s voice was equally soft.

You offered them a smile, it was genuine because you were happy for them, you just realised too damn late that you’d fallen for both of them.

They walked towards you, a pair of supersoldiers, one beefy the other sculpted. One dark the other light.

Two pairs of blue eyes burned into your skin. You felt like crying, because it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen and all they were going to do was hug you then get on with their lives.

Bucky caught your hand and pulled you towards his body but he turned you so your back was to his chest.

“Say thank you Stevie,” he growled.

Steve immediately dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his pink lips as they pressed into yours. He pulled away after the kiss that was not just friendly. “Thank you.” He had that sincere look, the honest voice.

Your heart broke a little more.

And then Bucky was turning you in his arms and looking down at you. Steve’s big hands rested on your hips as he held you in place for Bucky. Bucky was rougher than Steve, his lips pressed you harder more demanding making you weak at the knees.

Where Steve asked Bucky took.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Now where were we?”

And they started kissing over your shoulder. They moved close crushing your body between theirs, hands holding you still as they explored each others mouths.

You gasped and tried to slip away but you were trapped. You tried harder only for them to part and Bucky looked at you with hard eyes.

“Stop squirming doll, I’m kissing on my fella and you’re distracting me. You’ll get your turn.” You gaped up at Bucky but his focus was back on Steve. “Come ‘ere you.”

You could hear the wet noises of their kisses, could feel their physical reactions as you stood trapped between their hard bodies.

When they pulled apart for air you found yourself turned back to Steve and he was kissing you, desperate now as he licked into your mouth. He let out a needy moan as he lifted you and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Bucky growled. His hands were on your hips and ass and it took you a moment to realise you were moving towards Steve’s bedroom.

Steve fell back on his bed and looked up at you with doe eyes, lips parted and pure trust. And something else you couldn’t place. You were straddling his waist when the bedroom door clicked shut.

“Don’t mind me,” Bucky sat on the chair in the corner, and you looked between them. Maybe this was one last night with them, and you would make it count before they got on with the rest of their lives without you.

In the bedroom Steve was submissive. It had surprised you at first; but it made sense. Steve carried the universe on his shoulders sometimes so it was natural that he’d want to forget. So you were what he needed you to be. You took charge, took care of him, made it so that he didn’t need a plan or a rousing speech in the bedroom.

Bucky was dominant, that didn’t surprise you at all. He needed control, where he’d been tortured before now he thrived in giving pleasure in making decisions, on taking care of his lovers. You let him take care of you, you basked in and enjoyed it. You loved the attention.

And you were the perfect switch between them giving each of them what they needed.

You bit your lip, nerves running through you but you pushed it aside to try and enjoy one last night with them both.

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green!” Steve said urgently.

“Steve, take your clothes off,” you said. Steve immediately sat up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, looking between you and Bucky but you clicked your tongue and Steve’s eyes flew to you. “Eyes on me baby, you have him all to yourself soon enough.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched and Bucky shifted in his chair but you stayed still watching Steve. He folded his shirt then toed his shoes off, and as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops he looked down at you, holding it between big hands.

Bucky sucked in a breath as you nodded and Steve set the belt on the bed for later. He sat and removed his socks then his pants.

Once upon a time his cheeks would have been red by this point but Steve had gotten past that, he trusted you and with his attention on you the fact that Bucky was sitting right there didn’t even phase him.

His boxer briefs were navy blue, and it was obvious he was aroused by the whole situation. He looked at you as he thumbed the waistband.

“Won’t be much fun with them on will it Soldier?” You teased and his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink before he started to push them down. “Eyes on me.” You reminded him and his confidence returned.

And then Steve was naked, standing tall and proud and fully erect. You looked at Bucky and he was watching the two of you with something that looked like pride.

“Why don’t you get your ring, plug and the lube?” You suggested to Steve.

Bucky groaned and you glanced over at him as Steve scrambled across the bed to grab what he wanted from underneath. “Do you want to cut in?”

Bucky smiled, warm and genuine and for a second your breath caught. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not yet. I’m dying to see where this goes.”

When you turned back to the bed Steve was kneeling in the middle, eyes wide and wet lips parted. “You look like a horny puppy.” You told him and it made him laugh.

You didn’t say anything else as you removed your clothes and Steve settled down to watch you, waiting patiently with his hands in his lap.

When you got to your bra and panties you hesitated but Bucky’s soft voice rang in your ears. “All of it.”

You looked over at him, making eye contact to acknowledge you’d heard him then nodded, holding his gaze.

You removed your bra, then panties and Steve let out a gentle moan.

“On your back baby,” you told Steve. He complied immediately and lay back, spreading his long legs so you could settle between his thighs. He handed you a pillow and you thanked him with a kiss to the lips then helped him place it under his hips. “Do you want your belt?”

Steve nodded eagerly and you handed it to him. Steve lay back with his arms stretched above his head holding the belt in his hands.

“Colour?” You checked.

“Green,” Steve said.

“Steve is such a good boy that he stays like that until he’s told to move,” you told Bucky. “Well, most of the time.”

Bucky laughed softly and you drew your focus back to Steve. Bending you kissed his thighs, nipping at sensitive skin. As you moved closer Steve moaned and gasped until finally you were pressing a chaste kiss to the base of his cock.

You kissed lower until your tongue reached his tightly furled ass, and then with wet licks you proceeded to help him relax. You didn’t notice Bucky get out of his chair, not until you saw the black vibranium hand resting on Steve’s knee.

You pulled away and looked up at him. “Too much for you?”

“Christ Dolly you’re killing me,” Bucky’s voice was rough with arousal.

You giggled and got back to your task. It wasn’t long before you were sitting up and drizzling lube on your fingers. You warmed it up then pressed two against his puckered hole.

“The lube is edible and flavoured. Steve likes his asshole eaten,” you said conversationally to Bucky.

Steve whined and you grinned up at him. You shuffled closer and took the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking the pre-cum and sucking the skin as you curled your fingers. Steve cried out and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose as he filled your throat. You loved this, Steve at your mercy as you pleasured him.

When you finally felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose you pulled back and reached for the cock ring. “He doesn’t really need this, he has a refractory period just like yours but sometimes he’s over eager. He can get…messy.”

Steve moaned softly, hearing you talk about him as if he wasn’t there was driving him insane in the best way.

“You know him well,” Bucky praised. He was right behind you now looking over your shoulder, still fully clothed apart from his shoes and socks. You hadn’t noticed him taking them off.

You reached for the plug next, it was a smaller one, black, with a flared base. It slipped in easily but Steve moaned and arched his back. You turned it slowly and watched his chest heave.

“How do you feel?” You asked Steve.

He nodded and met your eyes. “I feel yeah-“

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green,” Steve practically slurred.

You chuckled and then settled back onto your haunches. Bucky looked at you curious for your next move.

“He’s all yours,” you whispered looking up at him.

A big hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you softly. “He’s all ours Doll.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you wished that were true but you pushed the hope away. This was about getting them together. Nothing else.

Bucky kissed you, his movements lazy but dominating and he gripped your soft skin. His hand slipped between your legs and you’d been able to ignore your needs until now but as soon as his fingertip brushed your slick puffy lips you sighed and leaned into Bucky. His other hand moved to your hair and he fisted it just enough to pull your head back. “I’m so proud of you. Watching you with Steve, so proud of both of you.”

You felt the blood warm your cheeks at his praise and snuggled against him.

“Now, I’m going to undress. I want you to get a reward for being so good to Stevie, what do you say Steve?” Bucky asked easily taking over the room.

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, baby, sit on my face?”

“Yeah, I want to see that. Go sit on his face baby,” Bucky kissed you again. You did as he asked, turning so you could watch him. Steve didn’t let go of the belt as his tongue dove inside your folds, lapping and sucking at your juices.

Steve moaned and Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you. “Hovering baby girl? That’s against the rules,” Bucky warned.

Steve moaned again and you chuckled, giving Bucky a bright smile. “I know he’s been good, but he has to earn it,” you teased.

Bucky smiled softly and removed his black boxer briefs and then he was kneeling between Steve’s spread legs. He skimmed his fingers along the sensitive skin on Steve’s thighs and you could see Steve tremble. You close that moment to rest your full weight on him for a few seconds, knowing he needed it.

His moans vibrated through you and then Bucky was kissing you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Bucky touched Steve and every time he cried out or trembled you rested your weight onto him, calming him.

And then Bucky was bringing the plug out, replacing it with his fingers. His eyes flicked up to you as Steve sucked on your clit.

“Cum baby,” Bucky said. You didn’t even know you were waiting for permission. You cried out as your release washed through you, making your toes curl. As you came down from your high Bucky kissed you. “Now go clean him up.”

You moved fast, straddling Steve’s tummy and kissing over his face, licking into his mouth. You were so busy kissing Steve you almost missed the deep groan he let out. Two hands, one warm and one cold lifted your hips and then Steve’s cock was sliding snugly into your soaked cunt.

“I’m going to fuck both of you now,” Bucky warned.

“Please Bucky,” you whined.

Bucky’s hand slid into your hair and he grabbed a thick fistful as he pulled you back against his chest.

“Look at you,” Bucky growled in your ear as his other hand slid around your throat. His nimble fingers trailed your body, plucking at your nipples, squeezing soft flesh, tickling your hips and exploring the area where you and Steve were joined. “Our perfect girl.”

“Bucky,” you turned to him squeezing your thighs. Beneath you Steve grunted as you squeezed his cock, his eyes never leaving you and Bucky.

“Colour?” Bucky asked you.

“So fuckin’ green!” You said.

“Stevie, baby I need you to hold onto her, make sure she has some support. Hands up,” he said.

Steve let go of the belt and raised his hands, palms up and fingers wide. “Good boy baby,” Bucky praised. You reached out and pressed your palms to Steve’s, let your fingers tangle and lock together.

Steve tested the pressure, moving you slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle as he practically used you as a weight, lowering you to kiss his lips then pushing you back to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky let out a soft laugh at the two of you and hooked his chin over your bare shoulder. “Show off,” he said to Steve. Steve, in a happy headspace blew him a kiss.

Bucky started off gentle, his thrusts going through Steve and into you. Bucky was taking his time, working out this new position as he managed both of you.

His hands returned to your body, his fingers strumming over your body. He knew every nerve, knew what made you sigh and squeal, what relaxed you and what wound you up.

With a palm on your back he pushed you forward until you were lying on Steve’s chest. His right hand gripped your butt cheek, moulding the flesh and you knew it was coming but you still yelped.

Steve grunted, you were squeezing his cock again. “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” Bucky’s voice cut through your brain fog and you nodded.

“I broke a rule,” you slurred. Steve kissed your cheek and forehead as he simply observed. “I hovered.”

Bucky grunted in agreement and a few more slaps landed on you. “You had a good reason though so I think that’ll do.”

Bucky’s hands moved over your back as he curled over you both. His right hand cupped Steve’s cheek. Kissing each other in this position would be impossible so he ran his thumb over Steve’s lips. Steve opened his mouth and sucked Bucky’s thumb in. Bucky groaned at the sight and the sensation.

“You good there Sweetheart?” Bucky asked him.

Steve’s smile was dopey, despite Bucky’s digit in his way and he nodded, his eyes shining. “Never better.”

The words were garbled but easily understood none the less. As Bucky pulled away he kissed your cheek.

Bucky started to thrust again and you moved back to sit on Steve, that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel the cock ring. Bucky must have removed it from Steve and you were grateful because you didn’t think you had the ability to remove it at this point. You were a soft Dom, you didn’t like delaying or preventing orgasms, you were too needy yourself.

You kissed Steve’s chest and face as Bucky fucked him and Steve sobbed into your mouth when your lips met. Bucky’s movements were getting more aggressive and Steve was gasping and thrashing in pleasure.

“Is he good?” You prompted.

“So good, I’m - it’s - he’s amazing,” Steve said.

“Shush, baby hush, he’ll hear you and his ego will be insufferable,” you teased.

Bucky laughed, his hand sliding around your throat and pulling you back to his chest. “So rude,” he grunted as he kissed you, his fingers finally brushing over your clit.

Steve came first after you clenched around his cock, your body chasing Bucky’s fingers, and you followed a few moments behind him. The familiar stutter of Bucky’s breathing told you he’d found his release too.

“You two will be the death of me,” he said as he kissed your neck and shoulders and helped you untangle yourself from Steve.

A warm cloth was cleaning you, hands were moving you and you realised Steve was getting the same treatment as he sighed in contentment.

Bucky got into bed on the other side of Steve and smiled softly at you both.

“I should go,” you said suddenly.

“No!” They both said at once.

You shifted. “But I- this was about you two.”

Steve pulled you on top of him then rolled over, pinning you between him and Bucky. “Going nowhere.”

Bucky chuckled. “Darlin’ we’re crazy about you, if you haven’t noticed. I know you like to talk about feelings and stuff but we’re doing this my way. You’re my best girl, he’s my best guy, we’ll work it out from there.”

You opened your mouth but your words betrayed you so instead you snuggled into their arms and enjoyed their warmth. Maybe this could work, maybe the three of you could find peace.

“Besides,” Steve yawned, “you negate our stupid.”

You giggled. Bucky slid a leg between yours and rested his hand on Steve’s chest.

Meanwhile deep inside your own chest your heart sang.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #stucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #stucky x you #smut #smutty stucky #soft dom!bucky #sub!steve #switch!reader

[the-modern-typewriter]

Weapon. They needed a weapon. Unfortunately, all they could come up with was an ancient torchstick that wasn't even on fire.

They hefted up the torch anyway, heart trapped somewhere in their throat, and backed up another step.

Three of the undead lurched towards them. They had the swords, the bastards. They were probably actual fighters too, once, not little idiots who should have died before ever being dragged to this nightmare place.

Maybe they'd get lucky. Maybe the torch would be sufficiently stake-like.

Given the terrible slurping noises the protagonist had heard behind them as they scrambled out of the ancient temple, the screaming that went quiet, they didn't think they'd get lucky. Maybe it was karma.

"Careful now," came a voice. Less raspy, more silken, more alive - but not one that the protagonist recognised. "If you back up any further, you're going to tumble right off the cliff. And wouldn't that be a waste?"

The protagonist didn't dare glance behind them to check if it was true, but they couldn't stop their attention from flicking up.

The beautiful stranger lounged a top of the great door, hastily locked again, watching. They waggled their fingers in a 'hi'.

Maybe falling off a cliff wouldn't be so bad, given the alternative. The protagonist still didn't want to die. Stupidly, they didn't want to die.

The undead lunged for the protagonist's throat.

The protagonist swung the torch wildly. It impacted. It just...didn't do anything. It would have at least winded and doubled over an actual person. But the undead...

The stranger leapt down, landing cat-like in the fray. They had none of the frantic movements of some of the lesser undead; ravenous and rabid.

They clicked their tongue and the undead all stopped, eyeing the two of them warily. They skittered back from the stranger.

The stranger pulled the sword from their own belt and offered it, hilt first, to the protagonist.

"Duel wield?" they offered. "Bit more of a fair fight."

It wasn't remotely, but the protagonist would still take it, with trembling fingers.

The stranger smiled at them. all sharp teeth and searing crimson eyes. They bowed their head. Then they stepped smartly out of the way again and the undead once more advanced.

It went a little better with an actual sword. The three undead were - if not dead - no longer capable of mauling the protagonist's throat. It wasn't good enough.

The protagonist crumbled to their knees, gasping in pain. They clutched the sword loosely in their hand. They touched a hand to their shoulder. Bloodied. Burdened with teeth marks. Their vision swam.

The stranger stopped in front of them, still smiling.

The great door rumbled with the force of bodies slamming against it, trying to get out. The protagonist very much doubted anyone in there was still alive in the traditional sense.

"This is fitting," the stranger said, gesturing at them. "I like this."

Dizzy, the protagonist lurched off their knees and lunged again, as clumsy as the undead had been. They certainly couldn't just wait to die.

The stranger merely stepped aside and let the protagonist stagger a step, before swiping their legs out from beneath them.

The protagonist hit the ground hard. The sword clattered out of their hand. The stranger plucked it up, tucking it neatly back into their holster.

"Who are you?" the protagonist managed. They began to push themselves up again.

"You woke me up. In the temple."

The protagonist swore quietly. "Yeah - about that -"

"-I thought the prophesied one would be a better fighter. Less willing to spill their magical blood. You are them, aren't you?"

"No."

The stranger laughed softly, delighted, and grabbed the back of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a misbehaving kitten. "You're pathetic." They sounded entirely too endeared by this fact. "Come on." They dragged the protagonist bodily away from the cliff edge, past the bodies of the undead, back towards the terrible, terrible door.

The protagonist thrashed.

Predictably, it did no good. In fact, it did the precise opposite as they left blood in the dirt and the three bloody undead began to heal before their eyes.

The stranger deposited them with startling gentleness on their knees again. They stroked their fingers through the protagonist's hair, taking a moment to calm them, all soothing noises and shushing sounds. The other arm hooked around the protagonist's throat, cradling them securely against them. Trapped.

The two of them looked at the door.

The protagonist could still hear the undead behind it. They wailed and clawed - nothing like the figure behind them.

The other undead kneeled in a circle around them and the stranger. The protagonist didn't like the way they looked at the stranger - like they were everything, like they were god. It was far more lucid than they had been before. They looked less zombie-like too. More real.

"Don't do this," the protagonist said into the silence. "Please don't do this."

They already knew what would happen if they touched their blood to that door again.

"Our people are hungry," the stranger replied. "They have spent so long in the dark and the slumber, waiting for you. You can't abandon them now. We can't abandon them now."

The protagonist shook their head. They wanted to say something daring and clever, but there was a whimper caught in their windpipe.

"It's not so bad." The stranger held them a little tighter. "You're going to help them. They won't be quite so brain dead once they've had a bit of you. They won't slaughter everyone."

"Just most people?" It came out choked.

"Depends entirely on if most people are willing to accept my rule, my saviour."

"I'm not - I didn't - I didn't want any of this."

A week ago, they hadn't even known.

"I know," the stranger murmured. "I know you didn't. Children of fate rarely do. That's why their hands must be forced by destiny."

"My hands were forced by cultists."

The stranger shrugged. "Destiny takes many forms."

"You killed them. Let them-"

"-My people were very hungry. Who was I to deny them? Besides." The stranger bowed their head, so their lips brushed the top of the protagonist's head. "They hurt you."

"You hurt me. Your people-"

"I wouldn't have let them get too rough. I just wanted to see what you could do. I don't think anyone expected you to escape the temple and seal the doors again in the first place. Lucky I was around!"

Lucky was not the word that the protagonist would have used.

"Just reach out a hand," the stranger murmured. "And all this can be over. You will be a hero."

"To the undead."

"To what is yours. To what you belong to."

Maybe it made no difference in the grand scheme of apocalypse, but the protagonist didn't reach out a hand that time. They expected the stranger to bark out an order, for the undead to wrench their palm forward and bleed them like the cultists had. A lamb on an altar.

The silence stretched.

The stranger couldn't make them.

The realisation struck the protagonist heady, impossibly light-headed with hope. They didn't understand why, or how, or much of any of the horror. But if the stranger could make them, they would have already done so.

The protagonist laughed. Wild. Delirious. Their head tipped back against the stranger's chest.

"They suffer in there," the stranger said. Less amused. More quiet. "They are trapped. Help them."

"No."

"This is what you were made for. Promised for."

"Then maybe," the protagonist said, "destiny should have asked for my opinion first."

"Please," the stranger said, and the protagonist didn't know what to do with that. "Please."

It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. That begging wasn't how the story went, was it? Ancient evil didn't beg.

"No," the protagonist said, a little softer. "Sorry."

The stranger let go.

The protagonist crumbled, gasping, on the door stop.

"Then I suppose." The stranger stepped up to the door, pressing a longing hand against the stone. "We're doing this the hard way."

#idk #story #fiction #creative writing #writing #writeblr #undead #monsters #prophecy #writing snippet #story snippet #i dreamed this scenario so thought I may as well share

[bokuroar]

12:17 — few years later | 🛬❤️‍🩹🎇 iwaizumi h.

“you’ll be there, right? right? right?!”

if it’s anotamically possible to cut your ear off without passing out because of oikawa’s incessant nagging, you would’ve done it the first few seconds he begged you to accept kuroo’s reunion dinner invite before the all-star game. you were seijoh’s babysitter manager after all so, according to kuroo, it’s just right you’re there, in which you only replied with a i’ll think about it.

“haji’s gonna be there.” oikawa says in his annoying singsong voice and you swear you could hear his smirk right through your phone.

you bite your lip as if oikawa could see you blushing and smiling through the call. after years of graduating from high school, you wouldn’t have thought just hearing his name will elicit the same effect on you.

“and?” you reply nonchalantly because you would rather crawl under the earth and bury yourself alive than let oikawa confirm your cutesy, little high school crush on iwaizumi never really went away.

oikawa being your best friend saw through your reply and snorted, “pft, if i know you’ve been looking at his instagram every night before you sleep just because you’re too much of a scaredy cat to hit him up. don’t act as if you don’t zoom in on his shirtless pi—“

“oh my god, fine! i’ll go to this freaking dinner so please for the love god shut the hell up! ” you exasperatedly sigh wanting to tolerate oikawa’s teasing no longer not because it’s untrue but because you felt like you were caught committing a crime. it’s a curse and a gift you have a best friend that knows everything about you.

you hear oikawa shriek through your phone in celebration and about being there at 6, so you mutter a good bye before he lays out a plan that involves dragging you wherever into the night.

as if on cue, your phone lights up with a notification from your old group chat when the call ended,

✉️ t. oikawa: see you all on saturday!!!! no backsies!!!!!! :p

you roll your eyes knowing he’s talking about you. you were about to hit send on a message something about being him still being an annoying ass when another bubble popped in your screen that made you rewrite everything you were about to say.

✉️ h. iwaizumi: im back too 🇯🇵 see you guys :)

✉️ you: i’ll be there ☺️

come saturday, you’re standing in front of the restaurant which every nook and cranny you’re familiar with as this was a popular go-to after-school-dinner-place during your younger years with the team. you try your best not to look frantic while you check your phone at least every 10 seconds to tell oikawa “wru >:(”

you were about to hit the call button when you hear somebody clear their throat. as a reaction, you step away from where you were standing thinking you were probably blocking the entryway.

“sorry i was just w— oh. haji?” you take these few seconds to take him in—the way his shirt hugged his biceps, the watch that also somehow added to his attractiveness, his skin that’s more tanned, his freshly cut hair, and his smile. god, that smile. so many things have changed about him since he last visited home but his kind, subtly giddy smile still reached his eyes.

“been awhile, hasn’t it?” iwaizumi sheepishly say and you hold back a gasp when he scratches the back of his head that flexed his arm.

“it’s been.. yeah? yeah, it has. i mean. yes..” you nervously laugh, mentally kicking yourself for tripping over your words.

you feel your cheeks redden, not from the cold air of the darkening day but because of the manly, handsome laugh that bubbles from iwa’s chest. “watcha doin’ out here, though? waiting for a someone or..” he drags his sentence hoping you don’t hear his silent prayer that you are romantically available.

you snort before you could even think about it, “no, c’mon it’s not like that.” you laugh and went on to tell the tale of oikawa begging you to come, “i’m waiting for that idiot tooru who went several measures to make sure i’m here.”

“you two were thick as thieves, weren’t ya? i’m glad you stayed in touch even if that shithead went abroad.” iwaizumi smiles and you can’t resist staring at how he threw his head back when he laughed at oikawa’s typical antics.

“wish we did too, y’know. i missed ya.” iwaizumi suddenly confesses, “i just found myself wanting to talk to you when i was out there.”

to say your heart felt like it dropped on your feet was an understatement. it’s like everything froze—the leaves halted midair, the world went silent and the only sound you could hear was the loud thump of your heart. all what you manage to let out is, “o-oh? you did? really?”

iwaizumi looks at you like you just asked the most ridiculous question, “‘course i did. we talked every day then! remember how i used to walk you home after our trainings then stop by that dang old ramen place that was there since forever? missed hanging ‘round with you and the team ‘tis all.”

you smile as you look at the ground, shyly but fondly recollecting all the simple but sweetest moments with iwaizumi you cherish so much. with his sudden reminiscing, you recall the sort-of debate you had with him because he kept on insisting he should always walk you home.

“r-right. the team. yeah, i missed them too.” you say as you shake your head along with the thought of having a chance of romance with your longtime friend.

“we should go inside. fuck that tardy tooru i think a lot’s of them here.” you casually laugh and walk towards the door until you felt a hand on your wrist.

iwaizumi shoots you a grin, “what do you say the two of us go grab that ramen? for old time’s sake?”

a/n: so .. uh … im back ! hope everyone’s still here 😅🫣 anw this was supposed to be just a drabble but i got a lil carried away & im alr thinking of writing a pt 2 .. wdyt hehe

#✏️.haikyuu!! #💭.iwaizumi #i love them . A LOT #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi hajime #hajime x reader #iwaizumi x y/n