#curse of bad clothing choice

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS | JOHNNY CAGE MK1 WITH S/O

A/N: Yes, he's my favorite, please make requests for me with this man, I need ideas, I need requests- I'm obsessed for him. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post.

TW: sfw, smut, fluff, sex, sexual positions, afab reader, pet names, vaginal sex, oral m!re. | f!re |, degradation, daddykink.

SFW:

Johnny Cage is the typical golden retriever boyfriend, he will want your attention because we know he is an attention slut, not only applies to his fans but also to you, you need to keep in mind that when Johnny wants your attention, He'll get it one way or another, whether it's sending you countless messages, asking you for affection, or even begging you to stay with him, if you're the type to get angry and punish him with silence, he'll be very upset. bad, even becoming physically ill.

He loves being emotionally pampered, a lot of cuddling with him with his head in your lap, while the two of you watch a movie together in the living room of his mansion, while you massage his scalp and the light brown locks of his silky hair, he would be happy. smiling like a fool in love - which he is - even if you pointed it out, he would deny it with some typical joke of his, if you threaten to leave his side or stop making out with him he will pout and complain, a lot.

He also likes tight arms just enjoying the silence between the two of you, chaste kisses on his forehead or cheek are welcome, especially if you wear lipstick or gloss, he will smile sideways and run his fingers through the warm residue on your lips on his skin.

Johnny likes to show you on all his social networks, always taking selfies with you and posting them, stories talking to his fans but always with you by his side, he loves sharing some couple story about the two of you so that everyone can laugh at such a situation that you passed by, like the time he got the location of the award show he was going to wrong and you had to walk a long way to get to the right place, with Johnny carrying you on his back obviously, he wasn't going to make his beautiful S/O walk. If you're the shy type, he'll push you a little, not because he's mean, but because he wants to show you to the world, show the person who makes Johnny Cage happy, but if you still don't want to, he'll respect your decision, Even if it upsets him a little at first, he will still take photos of you and the two of you together, with various filters, from the cute ones to the most cursed ones he finds.

The two of you have a YouTube and Twitch channel together, he already had a channel so now you are a regular guest, after all you date him. Johnny loves just chatting in chat, or reacting to some edits and fanarts that his fans make of him live, he always thanks everyone and is satisfied, from the most amateur to the most professional, everyone is valid and valuable from Cage's perspective , and he also loves the edits with the photo and video of you as a couple, with you and him thanking you for your affection, he leaves the @'s of the editors and designers, encouraging their growth. In the lives it also happens that Johnny plays some games with you, his favorite is the horror genre, he loves seeing your reactions because you feel tense around him and the chat, he sits on a black gaming chair in the center of the camera and you or in the background or on his side - it's your choice - he also gets scared very easily so you can take advantage and poke his shoulder or arm during a tense moment in the gameplay, he'll jump and scream from his chair like a scared kitten while letting out a series of swear words - he may or may not have let his glasses fall to the floor and break one of those times.

Johnny lets you wear his clothes, he's very stylish, if there's something you like, you can wear it, he has enough money to buy a new and identical piece, but obviously there are clothes that he's more zealous and jealous of, he He'll even let you use it if you tell him you'll be careful, if you tear it or get it dirty, he won't do anything other than sigh and get irritated for a few hours, then go buy a piece like the old one and pretend nothing happened.

He also loves that you make him breakfast, he loves his food, his seasoning, the smell of warm food makes Johnny wake up in bed with a satisfied smile, seeing you in his kitchen, preparing everything for him, that's it. it also made his ego rise, but in a good way after all he has you in his life and no Hollywood award compares to having you as his partner, he comes up behind you and while hugging you, giving you a kiss on the head and smelling you, even though he's drowsy, he wants to be there with you, watching you make his breakfast with such care - Cage also whispers in a hoarse and low voice how much he loves you, thanking you for being so helpful to him and that will reward you later however you want -

The two of you play 'just dance' together, Johnny knows practically all the choreographies and makes you dance with him, whether you're good or bad at dancing, what matters to him is that you just have fun with him, and he's great at dancing, knowing move the hips extremely well and being very elastic.

Johnny loves sending you memes, posts, songs, everything he sees and remembers about you he will send you immediately, Johnny is the type who has a gallery full of memes that he never sent because he forgot, he is the type who sends more than +99 reels in less than 10 minutes, so if you two have been chatting don't be surprised if you get distracted and have more than 60 videos in your dm, each with a caption and context from Cage:

"I remembered you."

"LMAO you that day (Y/N)"

"That song is the one you like, isn't it?"

"lol that's so me"

"That food looks delicious, can we make it later?"

"pookie wookie"

"This film appears a lot in my fy, let's see it this weekend"

"Am I bbg in this edit?"

He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.

He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.

The two of you have a typical mean girls night together, with skincare, hair moisturizing, movies together and gossiping together, Johnny doesn't mind if you want to try makeup on him, or paint his nails - as long as it's black and he's not in No acting roles at the moment - he accepts it willingly, and he even likes it when you do eyeliner on him - he looks even more handsome, believe me. -

Loves to pamper you materially! Johnny is the type that if he sees that you are looking too much at a certain product in a store, he will pull you and enter the place, calling the salesperson immediately and buying everything you want, and I guarantee you, he knows exactly when you want something. or when you're lying that you don't want to because you're embarrassed, if you lie and try to say that you didn't want to, Johnny will get serious and immediately take the most expensive products in the store for you, as a form of "punishment" for lying to him. He will be able to take you to the concert of your favorite band or singer when he is off work as a Hollywood star or he will hire the singer/band you want to do a private show at his mansion, nothing is too expensive or impossible for Johnny Cage.

He loves romantic nights with you. Johnny will put on a fancy suit, hire a good buffet for a candlelit dinner with you, something he does practically every weekend, it has become a couple's tradition in your relationship. A good dinner and expensive wine, to end the night with the lights of the Cage mansion partially turned off, with you and Johnny in the large marble area, the only light was from the moon that entered through the large video window, with the song: "You rock my world - Michael Jackson" playing in the background, on the speakers of the luxurious room, with the two of you pressed against each other, just singing while dancing intertwined in a heat of passion and love. - Johnny loves this song because he says it sums up what you did in his life, you rocked his world in a way that he can only thank you internally for being the love of his life, and being the person he can count on always, even though he is sometimes too arrogant and proud to admit it, he always says: "-This song sums up what I feel and have always felt about you honey." -It's his way of saying he loves you, when he can't say it directly.

He hates to show it, but he is extremely insecure, after the separation from his ex-wife - Cris - he always asks you if you still love him or if you will leave him one day, this insecurity causes some jealous attacks when you go out, doesn't it? nothing serious, just Johnny sulking and asking you why you're so different with him - which you weren't - just make this man sure of your relationship, holding his arm or hand when you go out helps a lot, with him smiling stupidly in the corner because you're proud to be dating him, after all who wouldn't be? he is Johnny Cage after all.

He's extremely intelligent, so he'll love rambling about everything about you, movies, art, history, everything. He will talk about several topics at the same time, while his head is in your lap.

NSFW:

Recorded sex: He carries that stupid phone of his 24 hours a day, that is, this also applies to sex, he will fuck you practically making a movie every time, recording in HD all your reactions and how you fit your body to his so well , moans, juices of lust, your face salivating with pleasure, the nicknames, the dirtiest things, all recorded and saved in a folder with a password on his cell phone. He uses the videos to masturbate when he is traveling to direct a film as a director, he becomes needy and needs you by his side, having to settle for the homemade porn videos that the two of you make together, your pussy jumping on his dick in the video, his body, his reactions, as he whimpered, fucking his own dick in his hand, writhing on the hotel bed he was in.

Sex on the phone: Well, when the porn videos you made, he will call you, begging you to masturbate on call with him, either just vocally, or on video call, or exchanging nudes while the two of you did it.

"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."

Daddykink: Self Explanatory, he loves being called daddy by you, he himself has a habit of calling himself daddy in random situations, with an arrogant air. "-Leave it to Daddy, Baby." "-Oh yes, Daddy Johnny is here to sort it out." And this applies to sex, he will fuck you while you call him Daddy or Daddy Johnny - he loves that shit, it boosts his ego like hell. -

Degradation and praise: He loves to praise you and degrade you at the same time, he also loves to be praised during sex, especially when you do the "missionary" position, while he looked at your face, fucking your pussy with greed and hunger.

"-Do you want to cum, my naughty little slut?"

"-You really want my seed to fill your pussy, don't you? You're such a dirty slut, wanting to be bred by me. You want to mark you as mine, don't you?"

"-You're nothing but a filthy whore, begging for my cock."

"-You're such a good boy/girl, taking my dick in that tight, pretty pussy, like the good slut you are."

His favorite sexual positions with you: 69, Doggy Style, Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl, Missionary, Scoop Me Up, The Seashell, The Pinball Wizard, Valedictorian, Table Top, The Lazy Man, The Snake, Stand and Deliver.

He also loves giving oral, he would really stay under your legs all day fucking you with his tongue if he could, in every corner of his mansion that he could, his tongue fucks you in the right spots, passing from your clitoris to the your entrance tight, his thick and firm hands keep you in place, holding the soft flesh of your hips, massaging the area in small circles with his thumb while looking into your eyes, while his mouth was too busy working for you. make you cum - maybe... Just maybe he rubs his nose on your clitoris to tease you, he has a big nose... Just maybe. -

Johnny likes blowjobs when he's angry, he likes to come home, have a good whiskey while sitting on the couch, and you between his legs, sucking him greedily, it was a relaxing sight, making Johnny remember the good things about life, you.

"-Yes fuck baby... Keep going... I really need to cum, you're my good boy/girl, sucking my dick so good."

Please squirt on this man! He loves to fuck you and make you squirt, whether with his dick, tongue, fingers or even vibrators - which you have to stimulate your pussy and his dick in some foreplay - Johnny just wants you to cum and get him all wet with your Sweet essence, the first time you squirted on him you were embarrassed, but he wasn't, he seemed to have discovered a new world, smiling like a fool.

"-Mmmm Johnny... I... Please take it off, I-" -You tried to speak between moans, while your pussy squeezed Johnny's cock more than ever, he felt something different, smiling sideways.

"-Fuck I bet that's a fucking squirt, come on, I want to see you squirt on my dick baby, this is going to be so fucking hot, just cum in that tight pussy." -Johnny says, thrusting his dick even more into your pussy, with all the strength and speed he could have in his hips at that moment, fucking you to the core, he gives a strong thrust, hitting his dick on your cervix, making you moan and squirt on his dick, abdomen and groin, dirtying him all over, while he smiled extremely happily.

"-I won't stop fucking you until you do it again baby." -He says smug with a cheesy wink, but he was serious, you were going to do that until he saw you squirt and cum like that again.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

#yanderestarangel #johnny cage imagine #johnny cage mk #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage headcanons #johnny cage smut #johnny cage #mk johnny cage #johnny cage mortal kombat #johnny cage mk 1 #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x y/n #johnny cage x you #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat fandom #mk1 #mk x reader #mk fanfic #mk fandom #afab reader #mortal kombat headcanons #headcanons #imagine johnny cage #yanderestarangelheadcanons #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat x reader

[talesofesther]

when the world sleeps | the stitches

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Small tales of private and precious moments shared with Astarion, when the world still sleeps.

Today's tale: You're trying to stitch back together your shirt, Astarion must intervene to save the day.

A/N: A collection of little stories that will be released sporadically, in no particular order. A place for me to store all the sweet little ideas that lurk in my mind about this darling pale elf. Feel free to send requests for any moments you'd like to see. <3

Masterlist

It was an accident. A split second of distraction that got the blade of your enemy slashing into you. It cut through more cloth than skin, you didn't even need a healing potion. But it was your favorite shirt.

You've never been very adept with the needle and thread. Having lived your whole life with the privileges that rested inside your family's estate back in the city, you didn't have much need to mend your own clothes back together whenever they tore apart.

And now you were paying the price for the unlearned skill.

The night was quiet, most of your companions had already retired for the night. Yet you sat crosslegged on a large pillow in your tent, soft candlelight illuminating just enough so you wouldn't prick your fingers.

Scratch insisted on laying beside you, his soft white fur warm as it rested against your leg.

The silence of the night was most welcome, when the days were as hectic as they have been lately.

As you passed the thread through the fabric of your shirt, needle piercing it quite clumsily, you couldn't help but think the stitches looked too far from each other. Or could it be too close? Should it vary depending on the thickness of the fabric?

"Darling?"

You jumped at the sudden voice—soft as it may have been—yanking the needle back and not piercing your thumb only by an inch. You cursed under your breath.

"What in the hells are you doing?" Astarion's choice of words sounded strange in the tender tone of voice he used.

You looked up to see him staring down at you with a confused frown on his eyebrows. The flickering fire of the candles coming from beside you kissed his features ever so faintly, making him seem like the remains of a dream. Dark red eyes, silver hair that reminded you of stardust. What a goner you were. And to think he chose you, too; if anything to warm his bed on cold nights.

"I'm… mending my shirt," you shrugged, with a sheepish smile on your lips, briefly lifting the shirt and needle in your hands.

Astarion opened his mouth only to close it again. He blinked, and shook his head. "You're doing anything but that." He stated, a little exasperated. "Have you ever done this before?"

You shifted your gaze from him, to the shirt on your hands, and back to him. "… Not really, no."

Astarion scoffed, "Well, clearly not."

"Come on it's not that bad." You raised a brow, finding his indignation at your lack of skills rather amusing.

"Not that bad? That thing is gonna tear itself apart with the first movement of your arms." Astarion gestured wildly as if you'd personally offended him, and started walking to the other side of you that wasn't occupied by Scratch. "Move over," he simply said.

You shuffled to the side a little, giving him space on the fluffy pillow beneath you. It was a tight fit as he sat down, his thigh flush with yours.

"Hand it over." Astarion wiggled his fingers and you did so quietly, handing him your shirt along with the needle and thread.

He mumbled something about basic skills and how you'd be lost without him. You didn't pay much mind to it, instead, you were rather enraptured by the way his fingers worked; precise, gentle, and deftly, with not a single wrong movement as the fabric of your shirt molded between the digits. He sews the pieces together from the inside, the needle hardly piercing, more like caressing its way through. It was evident he had done it many, many times before.

You inched closer, and you only realized you had done so when Astarion's movements halted. Needle hovering in the air as his shoulders tensed. His lips pursed when his throat worked through a gulp. You followed the motion, breath fanning over the skin of his neck, you were almost certain you'd seen goosebumps there.

It was a beat, and then Astarion was back to his work. But it was enough to bloom a warmth to your chest, that maybe you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

Leaning your cheek against his shoulder, you asked; "where did you learn to do it so perfectly?"

A quiet chuckle fell past the elf's lips, though it held no amusement. "The clothes we wore were hardly a concern for Cazador, as long as we looked presentable enough to lure people back for him." He frowned, a bitterness flashing through his eyes as his knuckles grew even paler with the way he gripped your shirt, "If we showed up with a torn shirt or ragged pants, that was on us. Even if it were his orders that caused it." The last words were low and forced out, as if the mere thought of them had thrown Astarion back into those dark streets and into the arms of people who didn't care if they ripped him apart.

You wished there was any amount of comfort or honeyed words that you could tell him that would erase the memories altogether. But there wasn't. All you could do was kiss his shoulder and brush your fingers over his arm until his grip relaxed again. Hoping that your love would seep through your pores and melt into his skin.

Astarion leaned the tiniest bit towards you, his lips brushing your hairline in a silent thank you. It felt… strange, how you were able to bring him back from the depths of his mind so easily.

Moments were spent in silence, until the pad of his thumb brushed over the freshly mended corner of your shirt, admiring his work; it was barely perceptive. If you didn't look too closely, you wouldn't even say it had been slashed through with a sword at all.

"Wow, you're good," you whispered, following the same path he had traced with your own fingers. Feeling over the fabric.

A low hum came from the vampire beside you, "I know."

You bit onto your lower lip. Your fingers tangled with his when he didn't pull away, all timid and tentative yet brimming with affection. "Maybe you could teach me someday, and I could mend your clothes for you, too." It went beyond just torn fabric, he knew it, you knew it.

Astarion ducked his head, he hesitated, yet he squeezed your hand quite tightly. "I would like that."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story #astarion ancunin #when the world sleeps

[mosaickiwi]

Hide and Seek

950ish word Ren(dacted) drabble off a spicy hide and seek prompt from da discord except I didn’t do the NSFW ending because I’m cringe, my bad. GN reader.

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

Prompt: Playing “Hide and Seek" with Ren in his spacious apartment, except no room is off limits, and he has to wear a Ghostface mask while seeking you out. And if Ren manages to find you, he gets to fuck you. I'M SORRY

~

Ren had given you fourteen minutes to hide. Fourteen much needed minutes to take stock of his pitch black apartment while he waited outside. 

You'd been overly thorough, going room to room, crossing off some spots and keeping note of others, both silly and serious—you were momentarily tempted to hang ass-out of the washing machine for a cheap laugh. At the moment, hiding in the shrine-turned-storage room was your top choice. It was piled high enough with stuff that you were sure you'd sneak by him to some other hiding spot if he tried to corner you. But just in case, you made your way into his bedroom to find another option or two.

You hurried across the room to open his closet door and turn on its light. The rows of hanging and neatly folded black clothes on either side of the spacious walk-in didn't give you much to work with; even if you crouched down, he'd find you in an instant. Maybe you would hide in the storage room.

As you flipped the light switch and turned around to do just that, the front door loudly slammed shut. Your heart sank. You were out of time. There was no way you'd make it to your hiding place now. Halfway panicked, you fell to your knees and slid as quickly and quietly as possible under the bed. An obvious cliche—but it was already too risky to leave the room. You thanked your lucky stars you’d closed all the doors on your way here. It’d at least buy some time.

With bated breath, you waited in the dark, heart practically beating in your ears. The noisy sounds of them opening and closing doors echoed through the apartment. You could clearly hear his footsteps as well. He wasn’t normally anywhere close to loud, so he was definitely making all that commotion for your benefit. You weren’t sure whether to appreciate it or not, thanks to your steadily growing fear mixed with anticipation.

The noises got closer much faster than you expected them to. You only pressed yourself tighter against the floor. It was impossible to see much in the dark, but not even a brief flicker of light showed through the gap at the bottom of the bedroom door. He wasn’t bothering to turn the lights on. You were a bit miffed that he knew the layout of his apartment this well.

A few more loud footsteps, and you knew he was just outside the room. The doorknob faintly clicked as he turned it. The door opened, but thankfully you didn’t hear it shut. You could feel his footsteps, heavier than usual, thumping against the floor. Barely visible, the toes of his boots came into view right in front of you.

“I know you’re in here, Angel,” sang his voice from above you, the taunting muffled by the mask. The bed slightly dipped from his weight as he began to kneel down. Your heart only beat faster against your rib cage as you tried to stay calm. Did they really find you that quickly? You silently cursed yourself for being so picky.

All of a sudden he seemed to change his mind. The bed shifted and he moved back into complete darkness, out of your limited field of view. You squinted, trying your best to keep track of him. But it didn’t do any good. His footsteps reverberated once again as he walked around the room. There was a faint creaking noise from what must’ve been the closet door, then the footsteps got the tiniest bit quieter and quieter until they stopped once more.

You had to take the chance while he was occupied searching the closet. Otherwise, they’d just come back to look under the bed. With your heart in your hands, you trembled as you inched out on the side furthest from the closet, getting ready to bolt. If you were lucky, you’d make it to the storage room. One deep breath, and you started to run like your life depended on it.

Except you didn’t get far at all. You reached blindly in the direction of the door as an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, then a hand clasped over your mouth to mute the absolutely terrified shriek you let out.

“Y’really thought I’d gone in the closet, huh?” they laughed from behind while you struggled for a moment. “Of course you’d try to run.” 

The rather violent thrumming of your pulse seemed to settle in his embrace. He moved his hand away from your mouth once you stopped flailing, and you heard fabric and rubber rustling as he took off the mask. You forced yourself to speak—in spite of the adrenaline still coursing through you, “I thought… I thought a chase would be more fun.”

His arm still around you skimmed low on your stomach before his other hand came to toy with the hem of your shirt, making you tense in excitement. “It would be fun, but we’re not in a movie. Can't make things that easy f'you,” he teased, along with placing a soft kiss to your temple.

You were thankful not to see whatever smug face he had. "You could've humored me a little bit." Your prep time felt like a waste, so you really wanted to put up a better fight.

He pulled you closer in response. The press of his body against you served as a crystal clear reminder for how your little game was meant to end. Eerily confident, his words took a moment to sink in when he began to push up your shirt, lips lingering at your ear to whisper, “Sorry, Angel. You aren’t ever getting away from me.”

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy redacted #14dwy ren #momo writing #AND THEN THEY HELD HANDS I SWEAR /silly #idk if i wanna open the smut door leave me alone!! #what's proofreading

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes: This is part one of a new series.

Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Words: 1622

Masterlist

---

You’re going to be new again. You’re so terribly tired of being new. But that's how it’s always been. Never in one place long enough to be considered a usual in town. Never a constant in anyone’s life. No. You’re the new girl, because people don’t give you a choice to be anything else. 

You learned it quite young. People’s lingering glances have nothing to do with curiosity or intrigue. They don’t stare because you’re particularly beautiful or unique-looking. Rather, they watch you so they may judge and criticize and tease. You learned it doesn’t fade as you age. People are people, and not all of them grow. Unfortunately for you, those people are scattered about the world as much as the good-hearted ones. But the good-hearted never approach you. They never look your way. 

Eventually, as it goes, the life you’re living, surrounded by those people, becomes too much. You get tired again. You leave that disappointing town. You find somewhere new. You repeat. The many places you’ve been have become tainted, and now you’re left with few. So few that two nights ago, instead of four different cities scribbled on notecards to choose from, there were three. The options are slimming. You put the cards in a bowl, closed your eyes, and now you’re a California resident, for however long that may be.

It’s extreme, you sometimes think—writing off a whole city or town when they’re full of other neighborhoods with different people who have fresh pairs of eyes—but it makes you feel better. You can say to yourself that you no longer live in that city or town. That city or town was an old life. 

In your new life—born from the moment you crossed the state line all of four hours ago—you’ve yet to feel out of place. Things have kept from souring. No wrong turns. No bad weather. A new apartment awaiting you from an ad you’d answered the day prior. The ad included a roommate you don’t want, but it’s cheap and all you can afford until you get a job. 

It’s also a risk. This “Jake” guy could be as bad as the rest, but there’s only one way to find out. And if he is bad—well, you’ve got two more notecards in your bag.

—

It’s nicer than you expected, and that brings forth a hearty handful of questions. Why would this guy need a roommate if he lived here? Why is the rent so cheap? And when you finally knock on the door, Jake is actually…a woman?

You do a quick scan of her face and form. She’s beautiful in nearly every conventional way. Her features fit in all the right places on her face. Her body is proportional, filling out clothes the way they are meant to be filled out. She’s intimidating. Not the roommate you expected, and certainly not a roommate you can handle having. She might very well be lovely, but you don’t need a daily reminder of what you are not. 

“Are you…Jake?” you ask.

“Natasha. You’re in the right place,” she replies, moving aside to make room for you to pass the threshold. 

Looking around, you almost gasp. The interior matches the grandness of its exterior wrapping. Lofted ceilings; natural light; walls painted in thick, throughout coats so as not to allow the slightest hint of their previous shade to peek through. It officially confirms what you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before—you’ve grown too accustomed to living in dumps. From the shine of the floor alone, you know you’ve never held yourself to this guy’s standards. 

Will I have to meet those standards? 

“Jake couldn’t be here so he asked me to let you in,” Natasha says. “The key is on the counter.”

“Right, um–” You swallow, unsure how to ask what could easily be interpreted as rude. “And this Jake guy, is he…”

“Not a creep,” she promises with a light smile, “Just irritating.”

“That’s a relief.”

“If you like arrogant pilots.”

You almost tell her that a know-it-all plane man is probably one of the last people you intend to worry about—falling in place next to old ladies, babies, and tiny dogs—but you keep your mouth shut. She doesn’t need your story. And if Jake is a pilot, then it seems safe to say he won’t be around enough to bother figuring you out, either. 

“I can handle a pilot.” As long as he keeps to himself—Another thing you don’t say. 

The brunette nods. “Then this might work out after all,” she says before giving you a once-over. “He’ll definitely be surprised by you, though."

That stops you, nudging you back into a past you’re trying to forget. It makes your breath catch in your throat. Your ears begin to thump from a quickening pulse. “What do you mean by that?”

Chocolate brown eyes widen briefly before relaxing back into an indifferent mask. “Nothing. I’m sure you’ll get along fine,” she says. Another smile. Same as before. Then, “If you’re okay, I actually have somewhere to be.”

Releasing a tense exhale, you plaster on a smile of your own. “I’m good. Thank you.”

She nods and makes her way toward the door, wrapping slender fingers around the brushed nickel knob. “Jake said to let you know he’ll be back late. So you have some time to get acquainted with the place.” 

She twists the knob and steps through the open frame. When the door has nearly eclipsed the remainder of her body, she pauses and her eyes meet yours. “I hope you'll like it here. It’ll be nice to have another woman around to dilute the testosterone,” she says. Then she’s gone. 

Standing in the apartment alone, you feel like an intruder. Though Natasha told you to get acquainted, you can't imagine going on the hunt for your bedroom, or unpacking your clothes, or reclining on the couch with a snack from the refrigerator. Something in you says it's better to stand in the same spot until your roommate returns to lead you about the place himself. If only you knew when that would be.

—

The only thing clueing you in that, at some point, you’d fallen asleep in the armchair by the bookshelf is the key-in-lock sound now stirring you awake. You jolt up out of the chair to find the sun had set so long ago that not a sliver of orange on the horizon remains. How many hours had been wasted making up for lost sleep when you should’ve been rehearsing how to respond to all possible reactions your roommate might have upon seeing you?

It doesn’t matter. You’re out of time now. 

You’ve barely readjusted your shirt to hide the exposed line of your bra by the time the door opens. But the man who walks through is far from what you imagined, and you had imagined plenty. 

You wait for a second, breath trapped in lungs. But then you realize he has yet to notice you, so with curious eyes, you use his unaware moment to truly notice him. 

He’s tall, broad, with short sandy blond hair and a jawline you’ve not seen on any man outside of a TV screen or glossy magazine page. Sharp like etched marble. His stubble is a day's worth, and while you suspect it’s not a representation of his usual appearance, you can’t say it doesn’t suit him well. 

Through pink parted lips you hear the exhale of his sigh, and suddenly see from the slump of his shoulders as he removes his jacket to hang on a nearby hook that he’s as tired as you are. Likely for very different reasons, but tired all the same. An affliction of sorts you understand too well.

When he runs a hand down his face, as if to wipe off the exhaustion like a wet rag removing dirt from skin, you get your first full image of him. Before it was just his profile. That was enough to tell you plenty, but straight on he’s…more. From the hallway light, you catch a glimpse of the green hue of his eyes. You notice the tanness of his arms–not natural, but from spending too much time in the sun–and the veins that trail along them like rivers in the earth. 

You’re suddenly not so sure what you’ve gotten yourself into. Men like him you’ve dealt with before, and it doesn’t often do you well. However, you promised yourself that with each town, you’ll pretend your past pain doesn’t exist so you may approach the new people and places without preconceived opinions. It’s a struggle of a promise to keep, but you do your best. And having just arrived, it would be silly not to try to do your best here as well. 

Those green eyes finally find yours and he stops short, almost stumbling as if he forgot to expect you. But he recovers quickly, standing straight and sturdy to confirm his height. His slightly slackened jaw coupled with the stare he gives you, however, doesn’t quite manage the same impressive recovery rate. His face can’t hide his surprise. 

A throat-clearing is followed by, “You’re my new roommate?”

You can’t tell if there’s judgment in his tone. Disappointment, maybe? He’s still staring. 

“Yes,” you say calmly, giving him a chance to not be the prick you suspect he might be. Don’t break your promise, you internally scold.

His gaze lingers on each feature of your face. Eyes pause at your lips before traveling lower; much lower until he reaches your toes then makes his way back up to where he started. 

A beat passes. He swallows hard. Then that deep voice, having turned a bit husky, mutters a soft, “Fuck.”

---

A/N: again, this is a new series. So part 2 soon. I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @tgmavericklover @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @penguin876

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x you

[soobnny]

winter wind — lee minho.

trope. best friends to lovers. pining. minho is astronomically down bad.

synopsis. a look into lee minho’s realization that maybe he is eager for the affection of someone else featuring the menaces, seungmin and jisung

word count. 1.5k words

warnings. curse words and nothing else i think

note. this idea just suddenly came to me so please enjoy tsundere minho and this silly little fic

Lee Minho sighs out in relief when the pair of you finally make it to Chan’s apartment, immediately being greeted by a warmth in sharp contrast to the weather outside.

The winter wind was unforgiving, as it always is, nipping at Minho’s skin and harshly blowing a deep shade of red on his nose and cheeks. It’s a sight that elicits teasing from his friends, and he tries to shut them up right away before you can hear anything.

You’re still by the doorway, struggling to take off your winter boots. With the information that you’re out of earshot, verified by a quick glance your way, only heightens their teasing.

Heavy on Seungmin. He’s the only little fucker that isn’t easily intimidated by Minho’s infamous glare.

“You’re practically naked, hyung.” Minho wants to wipe the smirk off of his face so bad, but Seungmin isn’t technically wrong, only confirmed further upon double checking his appearance from the huge fucking mirror decorating Chan’s living room.

A sweatshirt and some pants — a pretty fucking terrible choice considering the temperature outside.

“It wasn’t that cold.” He dismisses.

His shivering hands and runny nose deeply contradict with his statement, and Seungmin all but laughs at how persistent Minho is at defending his case. Though, he is having an awful time trying to justify his friend’s clothing choice when he knows Minho usually walks to Chan’s place.

Lee Minho is far smarter than a sweatshirt and some pants.

Seungmin, and the rest of the boys, can only share glances in understanding when you come stumbling into the living room wearing almost all of Minho’s outerwear. His favorite puffer jacket is on you, engulfing your entire figure and that scarf sitting on your neck looks awfully like the one Hyunjin had gifted the boy a few birthdays ago.

So you’re the culprit as to why Minho’s quietly made his way to stand by Chan’s heater to catch a glimpse of his normal temperature.

“Coldcoldcoldcold—“ You pause your conversation with yourself when you see the boys all smiling at you in the living room. As if they know something yoh don’t.

“Hi.” You mumble, trying your best to show a smile as you puff out a breath of winter air. They greet you back right away with accompanied squeals and pinches in the cheeks.

The scarf looks adorable covering half your face, and Seungmin has to physically bite back his laughter when you raise your hand and Minho’s (too big for you) gloves greet them. His friend is horrendously in love with you, and it’s so obvious that Seungmin’s dumbfounded as to how you haven’t realized it yourself.

It doesn’t help that Minho is absolutely useless and won’t confess first — refuses to, even. It’s come to the point where Chan, always the one to tell the boys not to meddle, has practically begged the boy to confess.

The boys probably can’t count with all their hands combined the number of times they’ve told him to confess and he outright avoided the question.

Though, despite being the most straightforward in the group, it seems his feelings for you has made him turn a complete 180 (at least when it comes to the part of his brain reserved for romance). They can’t blame the boy though. It might as well be his first time experiencing the overwhelming tides of feelings and everything that comes with it.

Lee Minho has never been the type that was eager for the affection of someone else either. Among the eight boys, they’d say he was the one who didn’t really have the time for intimacy.

And then you came, in the form of the biggest contradiction to everything Minho had established about love.

Now, the poor boy is falling over, pupils dilated as he silently makes his way to stand by your side to ask you — in the softest tone the boys have ever heard from Minho — “you weren’t too cold from outside?”

There’s a faint smile on his face when you shake his head. And the scene playing in front of everyone would perfectly fit in one of the sitcoms they watch together when they’re bored from how fast Minho’s fond smile changes into a look of feign annoyance when he turns his attention to his other friends in conversation.

Perhaps they just aren’t lucky enough to look behind the scenes, to bear witness to his gentle voice and sweet smile and the way he (without a question) stripped himself off of his outwear as you tread against the white blanketed ground minutes earlier.

He simply shrugs his jacket off and slips it on you, dropping the scarf on your neck and tying it to make sure it’s secured on your neck. Quiet scoldings leave his lips as he does so, eyes focused on taking his own gloves off to put on your hands. If he was too much of a coward to hold your hand, he would have to sacrifice his gloves and bear the cold.

He’d take the harsh winter wind over a call in the morning telling him you’d caught a cold from the winter. Nevermind that there’s a higher chance he get sick instead.

The coming scratchy throat and runny nose are nothing compared to the grateful smile you had directed to him and the way you look clad in his clothes. He almost feels guilty for thinking he could get used to that sight, for hoping to be subjected to your beauty everyday for the rest of his life.

Almost. He was nothing if not a boy who was willing do anything just to see you in his clothes again.

Of course, he hides it well. He’s practiced enough from the months of his dawning realization to the present. So, he keeps the abundance of his teasing remarks high in hopes that they continue to work.

He tells you his hat is too big for you that it makes you look silly or how your height matches that of a 12 year old compared to him which is why his clothes are swallowing you whole. And he tells you that the red on his ears are definitely because of the sandpaper wind and not because of the warmth he felt when you hugged him — it shocks him to the point that he had to push you away and you almost fall on your butt because Lee Minho doesn’t think he can hold back the confession bubbling in his throat if you kept holding him like that.

“You seriously need to tell her.” Jisung is the one who breaks Minho out of his reverie.

The boy can’t just catch a break.

Minho had just settled on the couch, watching you intently as you laugh with Hyunjin at one of Seungmin’s jokes, when Jisung decides to add another tally to the number of times they have failed to get him to confess.

The unconscious grin from watching you laugh turns into a scowl as he directs his attention to Jisung.

“No.” He says pointedly. Han Jisung doesn’t need to clarify for Minho to know what he’s talking about.

“I don’t like her like that.” Minho adds as a weak attempt to get the boy to stop trying to meddle but he knows he isn’t being truthful. And he knows Jisung knows too.

“Sure you don’t.” Jisung snickers, playfully nudging the boy’s side. “We’re not blind, you know. We can see the way you look at her… and the way you’re looking for her right now.”

Minho’s heart thumps at being caught. He simply groans in response, begrudgingly grabbing the brownie in Jisung’s hand and shoving the remains down his mouth.

“She’s in the kitchen, by the way.“

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you were thinking it! You are soooo down bad that it’s actually kind of funny now.” Jisung giggles to himself. “You’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you? So stop being a pussy.”

Minho would’ve lunched his friend to the living room ground if not for your voice calling out his name from Chan’s kitchen. Han Jisung is saved another day from Minho’s wrath.

(He’ll thank you later.)

“Min?” He’s quick to give up, and he closes his eyes in surrender because Han fucking Jisung was right, he would do anything for you, and Minho can already hear the boy telling him he told him so.

Perhaps Lee Minho isn’t as immune to love as he thought he was. There’d have to be a new rebranding towards the part of his brain he had thought was repulsed by the idea of romance. Especially when you had introduced to him the feeling of beating hearts and sweaty hands.

So this is what love is. Now, he knows of the fondness he used to think he could only direct to his cats. He knows of the romance he used to laugh at when watching romantic comedies.

And maybe Lee Minho isn’t so opposed to the idea after all. Especially upon walking in to the kitchen and seeing you smile up at him with a new batch of brownies Felix had saved up for you (that you’d happily share with Minho).

Despite the cold, Lee Minho feels warm, and he looks at you like he does with the little things he loves — a small grin tugging on his lips and his eyes focused on you, diluted and relaxed. Genuine.

Perhaps there is time for intimacy, and perhaps he’d have to put an end to that tally and finally fucking confess.

(If he didn’t, the boys will have owed Seungmin a lot of money).

#k-labels #stray kids fic #minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids lee know #stray kids au #lee know x you #stray kids minho #lee minho #minho fic #minho imagines #minho au #stray kids fluff #minho fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshots #stray kids scenario #lee know scenarios #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #lee minho fluff #minho x you #skz minho #stray kids x you #stray kids oneshot #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff

[wolfmoonmusic]

hiiii! could u write a james potter x reader fic where james chooses lily over reader and she’s not like heartbroken because she understands where he’s coming from but james can’t get over the fact that he’s gonna lose her so he’s sobbing and breaking down and reader is just understanding and cuddling him telling him he’s okay and that she knows he’ll be ok <3

Slipping Away:

A/N: This made me cryyyyy

Pairing: James Potter x reader

w/c: 1500+

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST. That's it lol.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3

He was supposed to be happy. 

The redhead in front of him was all he could think about for so many years.

And she’d finally, finally decided to give him a chance. 

So then why did he feel so terrified?

Maybe it was because of the way that you were looking at him. As if he was your entire world and it had just come crashing down. You noticed him staring and gave him a proud smile, and a double thumbs up.

But eyes don’t lie.

Lily was standing there right in front of him, ready to call him hers, after years of constant pining. And yet all he could think about was the way Sirius’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, and the dejected look in your eyes.

He expected the heavy weight to blow over by dinner.

But it didn't.

He sat there, watching you laugh with the others, like your normal self. He knew you wouldn’t show any emotions that you were feeling, and that made him feel worse. He wishes you’d just slap him instead of acting like whatever happened didn’t affect you in the slightest.

He knew. 

He knew what you felt for him, and he’d be lying if he said that there wasn’t a part of him that felt the same.

But he’d always love Lily more.

And you were his best friend. The fear of messing things up with you at some point and then losing you, terrified him.

However, something told him that he’d lost you already.

He couldn’t sleep at night.

He stayed up,  constantly thinking about you and your expression that day.

And the haunting fear stayed.

He felt like he was drowning and usually he’d go to you. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not when you were probably in the same situation, a little farther down, struggling to swim up with your own weight tied to your feet.

He lay there, counting the hours, until he decided he couldn’t anymore, and walked down to the common room.

And he instantly wished he hadn’t.

You were sitting there, a blank look on your face as you stared off into nothingness. 

He felt you slipping away from his fingers then. Because at times like this, he’d be the first you called.

But of course, he’d never been the reason for this before.

He stood, frozen, unsure what to do, and maybe he should’ve decided sooner, because you seemed to realize you weren’t alone, and turned to face him.

“Hey James.” You’re surprised, he can tell, but he doesn’t move, still scared to make any decision. The last time he had to make a tough choice is what led to this in the first place, and now he was too scared to move.

You pat the seat next you, and he thinks that maybe it’s the right thing to do. Maybe this will fix everything. Maybe you’re not as affected by it as he thought.

But as he sits down, he knows he’s wrong.

Terribly, terribly wrong.

You’re wearing Sirius’s oversized sweater.

He gave it to you because he didn’t like how loose it was, and you’d started wearing it when you were in a bad mood. You said that it provided comfort to you, and that whenever you wrapped your arms around yourself, the extra cloth would bunch up, making you feel like you were being hugged.

The second he saw it, James’s resolve broke.

The tears flowed freely, a sob wracking his body.

He felt so stupid for crying when clearly you were hurting more.

You didn’t react immediately, watching him as he continued to sob into his hands. And James thought that it was for the best. He didn’t want you to comfort him. He wanted you to cry as well, cursing him for ever deciding to choose Lily over you.

But of course, you’d never do that.

You wrapped your arms around his body, resting your cheek against his shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered.

“No, no it’s not,” James replied, still crying. Why wouldn’t you just yell at him? Why couldn’t you call him out for how unfair he was being?

You shush him, gently rubbing his hand.

“This is it isn’t it? I-I’m gonna lose you,” He muttered, and he felt you freeze. He was right. Of course he was. Who would stay with him after what he’d just done?

But you didn’t let go.

You pulled him towards you, so that his head was resting on your chest, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“You’re not gonna lose me Jamie. At least, not forever,” you mutter, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He didn’t know what you meant. But it only made the pain in his chest double. Usually being your arms released the building pressure, but this time, it only amplified.

He couldn’t even imagine how you felt.

“Please yell at me. Curse me, do something but please please don’t sit here and hug me after everything I’ve done,” he voice was pleading. He needed you to do that so that he didn’t have to see you upset tomorrow. Or watch you laugh, knowing the truth of how much this had affected you.

But your arms only tightened around him.

“No,” You whisper, your voice shaky. 

You’re crying.

“I get it. She’s the love of your life. I’m not mad. I’m not upset,” you pause, your hands gently rubbing his back, “not upset with you at least,” you mutter.

James knows what you mean. You’d always compared yourself with Lily. She was the only person who you deemed worthy enough to be your competition, for many things. You two were friends and you’d never let that get compromised. Not even now. But you’d always felt insecure when it came to her.

And James had only fueled it.

He couldn’t tell you to not compare yourself with her, after he’d literally chosen her over you.

But you were both different people and he wanted you to know that.

He pulled away, looking at your tear stained face. “Please don’t compare yourself,” he muttered. Ashamed that he was even in a situation like this in the first place.

You smiled sadly, sniffling, “Kinda hard not to. It’s okay. I just need…time,” you say nodding your head.

You took your hands in his, and internally, James begged for another try. He wanted a chance to go back in time, to fix things.

But he knew that would be wrong.

Because it was the truth. He loved Lily more. He always had, and he always would.

Yet the crushing feeling of losing you overpowered that love right now.

“I’m gonna need time,” you avoided his gaze, looking down at your intertwined hands, tears falling onto them.

“What do you mean?” he asked, knowing full well what you were going to say next, and it crushed him.

“I need some time away from you. You’re not losing me but-” Your voice cracked and you trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

It hurt way more hearing you say it.

His grip on your hands tightened. “No. No please. For how long? I need you.”

You let out a small laugh, and for the first time since James had met you, he felt the bitter touch. “That’s not fair James,” you said, shaking your head. “I’ll come back, just give me some time.”

You were slipping away. Fast. 

And there was nothing he could do about it.

“You’re gonna be okay,” you whispered, running your thumb over his knuckles. “You’re gonna be okay. You don’t need me. You have Lily, you have the boys and if something really bad happens I’m always right here. I just…I just need some time,” you muttered, looking at him.

James felt like he was being torn apart. He watched your hurt eyes, contradicting the soft smile on your face. He didn’t want to hurt you. He never had. But he couldn’t deny his strong feelings for the redhead. He knew you’d only be even more hurt if he’d chosen you while loving the other girl more.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, sniffling, as the tears continued to fall. 

“I know James. It’s okay,” you mutter.

You pat his hands before pulling away, bending over to press your lips against his forehead.

You stay like that for a moment and James feels like dying.

You always care so much. No matter how much someone hurts you, you always care. You shouldn’t be comforting him right now. Not when you’re probably hurting more. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” you say once more as you move away, standing up.

Then you’re walking away from him and up to the dorms and with each step James feels you slip away.

Until he can no longer see you, and he knows you’re gone.

Maybe not permanently. But you both will never be the same again. Because you’ll no longer look at him like he’s the most amazing person you’ve ever met. And he’ll never be able to forgive himself for hurting you like this.

But you’re gone now and all he can do is pray that you’ll come back.

-------

Taglist: @pinchofhoney @targaryenmoony @padfootagain

#x reader #x you #angst #marauders era #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter x reader #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #the marauders #james potter angst #heavy angst #one shot #james potter x reader angst

[happy74827]

After Hours

[Billy x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You never fully believed the saying, “wrong place, wrong time…” until now {GIF credits: moviebuffs on tumblr}

WC: 4,392 (whoops)

Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Melinda, threats, mention of drugs + blood, lots of cursing}

I watched this two nights ago with my friend (love you @yoursacredqueenmother) and now here I am… obsessed. The ending was lame ngl but I highly recommend this movie if you like messed up situations (and Josh looking spicy 🥵).

『••✎••』

You hated driving at night. All the darkness outside and the light reflecting from the headlights, it all gave you a headache.

Your eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. It was empty and you were glad. The road was bad enough, you couldn't imagine trying to deal with someone else's conversation while driving.

The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, the whirring of the engine, and the sound of the tires rolling over the rough pavement. Your hands were tense on the steering wheel as you squinted in an attempt to see a few feet ahead of you. There were no lights out here, no street lights or traffic lights, and you were starting to think there wouldn't be any towns, either.

It would be the last straw if you ran out of gas out here.

You didn't even know where you were going, you were just following the GPS's directions and praying it would get you out of this desert and somewhere safe.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. You hadn't seen any other cars for a few hours now, which wasn't unusual, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to be driving out in the middle of nowhere.

But of course, as all nightmares go, suddenly, your car made a strange noise and started slowing down.

"Shit!" you hissed, smacking the steering wheel. "Shit shit shit!"

The car sputtered and then finally came to a complete stop, the engine dying. You slammed your hands against the wheel, feeling tears of anger and frustration welling up in your eyes. You were completely and utterly screwed.

You sat in the car for a while, letting the silence and darkness envelop you. The heat had faded quickly as soon as the sun had set, leaving behind an eerie chill that seeped through your clothes and into your skin.

You took a deep breath and looked around, but you could barely make out the landscape around you. It was pitch black and you knew if you tried to leave the car you would lose it immediately and end up getting hopelessly lost. You weren't sure what to do.

You looked over at the empty passenger seat, now wishing more than anything that you had someone with you.

You sighed and laid your head back, trying not to think about how scared and alone you felt.

As you sat there, staring up at the roof of the car, you decided you needed a plan. You couldn't just sit here forever, and if you were going to get anywhere, you were going to need help.

You grabbed your phone from the cup holder and held down the power button, watching as the screen lit up. You had service, thankfully, and a decent amount of battery left. You unlocked the screen and opened the maps app, waiting as it searched for your location.

You watched anxiously as the small circle spun, feeling a pit of dread growing in your stomach as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally lit up. You sighed and put a hand on your chest, feeling relieved.

Zoomed out on the map, you looked for the nearest town. You didn’t find one, but you found a gas station… they were sure to have a jumper cable, right?

You plugged the coordinates into the GPS and started the car again, hoping that it would start.

It didn’t, of course. The whole point of getting stranded was that your car wouldn't start. So, you had no choice but to walk.

You grabbed a bag from the back seat and threw a few necessities inside, along with your wallet, your phone, your charger, and a small pepper spray bottle that your best friend had insisted you carry.

You were glad she'd been so insistent, you'd never have thought you'd need it.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly air. You shivered and closed the door, locking it, and then turned away from the car, setting off into the dark.

The moon was hidden behind thick clouds and the wind whipped around you, kicking up sand and rocks that stung your face and hands. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

You wished you'd had the foresight to bring a thicker jacket or something, but you hadn't planned on getting stranded.

The walk was slow, the uneven ground and lack of light making the journey difficult. You could hear the wind howling around you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You kept walking, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, you spotted a light in the distance. You picked up your pace, your heart racing. As you got closer, you could see it was the gas station, just like you'd hoped.

You jogged up to the doors, pushing them to open but finding them locked.

You groaned and knocked on the glass, looking inside. There were no lights on, and you couldn't see anyone.

"Hey!" you yelled, pounding on the door. "I need help!"

There was no answer, and you were starting to think no one was inside.

You sighed and sat down on the concrete, putting your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do now. The stupid location said it was open twenty four hours a day, so where was the damn staff?

You were about to get up and try the door again when you were startled by the light above the doors flickered on. You looked up and saw a woman standing behind you, her dark hair flat and dull. Her clothes were a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked exhausted, and when she spoke, her voice was strained but polite.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to your feet, trying not to look panicked. But when you noticed the name tag pinned to her shirt that read ‘Melinda,’ your fear melted away and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought no one was here," you laughed.

She didn't laugh with you, her face remained emotionless.

"Sorry, I was in the back," she explained. "What can I do for you?"

"My car broke down… honestly, I don’t remember where. It was really dark, and I don’t know this area." You shook your head and continued, "I was hoping I could buy a jumper cable or something? Just enough to get me out of here."

She nodded slowly, her expression never changing.

"Yes, they should be near the back with the other supplies." She paused, eyeing you warily. "I would offer coffee along with it, but… we're out of stock at the moment."

"That's fine," you said. "Just the cable will do."

She nodded again and stepped past you, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and motioned for you to follow her. You did, and the moment you entered, a rush of cold air hit you, making you shiver.

She walked to the counter, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. She stopped at the register and began pressing buttons, her movements slow and methodical.

You couldn’t really care at the moment, as your eyes roamed the store, searching for the cables.

You walked down the first aisle, but didn’t see them. You kept walking, and when you came to the second aisle, you spotted them. You were about to grab them, but then you noticed the hall with the bathroom sign hanging from it.

Suddenly, the bottle of water that seemed so important earlier became a major regret. You hadn't gone to the bathroom since before your car broke down, and it was starting to catch up with you.

You took a step towards the bathroom, glancing back to the cashier. You could see her staring down at the counter, her fingers pressed to the keys, not really typing.

You didn't want to interrupt her, so you decided not to ask. You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You flipped the lock, and then turned to face the mirror.

You grimaced at the sight of yourself. Your hair was messy and your face was dirty. You splashed some water on your face, and then grabbed a paper towel and dried yourself off before doing everything you had to.

You left the bathroom, planning on returning to the aisle, but then you heard a noise.

A small sound, a whimper, like a puppy in pain.

You looked down the hall, trying to find the source. It sounded like it was coming from the storage room.

"Uh, hello?" you called, taking a hesitant step towards the door. "Are you alright?"

There was no response, just another small, pitiful cry.

You bit your lip and pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness.

"Hello?" you said again. "Is someone there?"

The door creaked behind you, and then closed. You spun around, panic rising in your throat. You reached for the handle, but before you could grab it, something moved in the darkness.

You jumped back, a gasp escaping your lips.

Something moved in front of you. You couldn't tell what it was, or where it was, but you knew it was there.

You took a step back, trying to stay calm. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty.

"Please, I just need help with my car," you pleaded.

A low, guttural growl came from the shadows. It sounded like a wild animal, and when it moved again, it was close enough that you could see the outline of its form.

It was… not tall. Not in the slightest. In fact, it probably was only taller than you by an inch, if at all. It was hunched over, its shoulders curved inward, its spine protruding slightly.

It took you a long minute to realize that it was just a guy in a chair. Man, you were blind.

He had on a denim jacket, and it hung off his small frame, the sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was trembling slightly. That’s when you noticed the bundles of red tape around his eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. He also seemed to be bounded to the chair, strapped down and unable to move.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You stepped towards him, reaching out a hand, but he jumped out at you, attempting to attack. Though, it was pretty much useless on his end. He couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.

He started to speak afterwards, but the tape had prevented it from being coherent, and all you could make out was a low, angry rumble.

"No! No, no, no!" You stepped back, putting your hands up. It was rather pointless and stupid of you too, because the tape had also covered his eyes, you just looked like an idiot. But, still, you kept them up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need some help with my car!"

He growled at you, a low, threatening sound, but then he stopped, seeming to realize that you were telling the truth. He was breathing hard, and his chest was heaving, and then he mumbled something under the tape.

"What?" You asked.

He mumbled again, but you couldn't understand him. It was like talking to a brick wall.

You hesitated, but then moved forward, reaching up to take the tape off. If you had to guess that was probably what he was mumbling about.

He flinched when you touched him, but then relaxed. You peeled the tape away from his face, both the strands across his mouth and the one over his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.

He was breathing heavily, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised by how young he looked. His face was pale and his lips were dry. His hair was greasy and tangled, and the side of his head was badly burned and bruised. There was even dried blood on his temple.

“Jesus, what happened to you?"

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Get me the fuck out of here, and I'll tell you," he hissed.

His voice was surprisingly smooth, despite how rough he looked. His words were short and sharp, like he was angry.

You weren't sure what to do, but then he started moving.

"Please," he said, his voice sounding desperate. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Just, please. Please get me out of this fucking chair."

"Did that… lady put you in here?”

"Yes, Melinda," he spat. "She's a nutcase psycho. Drugged me and… and… whatever the fuck. Just get me out of here!"

He sounded more frantic now, and his eyes were wide and pleading.

"Well, I-” You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Well what? What’re you waiting for?!”

“I- I need a jumper cable. My car broke down outside… somewhere. I'm not from around here, and- I don't know where I am. I can't exactly go anywhere until my car's fixed."

He looked at you with the most exasperated look you'd ever seen. It was almost comical, how exaggerated the expression was, but then he seemed to relax.

"Alright, how about this…” he said, his voice low and soothing. "You let me out of this shitty chair, and I'll help you fix your car. How's that sound?"

You didn't know what to say. He didn't seem like he was lying, and he seemed to be genuine about his fear. But could you really trust him? You still had no idea who he was or where he came from.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, and his expression softened.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't really help you unless I can get out of this stupid chair. And if we stay here, Melinda's going to find us, and trust me, you do not want to deal with her."

"And if she finds us, what will she do?"

"Look at Sheila over there wrapped up like a fucking Christmas tree," he replied, jerking his head towards the woman's corpse.

You gasped, covering your mouth.

"Oh my god, I didn’t even notice," you mumbled.

"Yeah, well, she's been dead for about an hour now, so," he said.

"And- and you've been sitting here, tied up the whole time?!"

"Yeah, it's fucking awful," he grumbled. "Now, will you help me, or not?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." You looked down at the remaining tape, trying to decide how best to go about it.

"Just, hurry up," he urged.

"Ok, ok." You reached for the tape, and he leaned forward, letting you pull and tug on the strips.

After a minute, you had all the tape off that was pinning him down and he was able to stand up. Again, he wasn’t that tall, maybe a five to six inches above five feet, but that didn't stop him from moving fast. He darted around the room, looking around frantically, and then grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf.

"Where did you even-"

"Not the time," he interrupted.

He turned towards you, his expression hard. He was pretty intimidating, and it wasn’t just because of the crowbar. He was skinny, but muscular, and the way he moved was fluid and agile, like a predator.

Though, you couldn’t help but noticed how attractive he was, with his expressive eyes and the way his hair was pushed back from his face. He was gorgeous.

"Hey," he snapped. "You listening?"

You blinked, and nodded.

"Sorry," you said, shaking your head. "This has just been a very, very strange night."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "That’s why when I’m done with her, we are getting the fuck out of here."

"Done with her?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. We're not just gonna let her get away with this shit."

"Um, are you sure that's a good idea? She's, like, a million times your size," You smiled at the small joke, but he didn’t seem amused at all, so you added, "Not to mention, hurting people seems like a bit of an extreme response."

"Hurting people is kinda her thing," he muttered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

"Look, are you coming with me, or not? Because, if not, then just leave. You're already making this way more complicated than it needs to be."

"I can’t leave, not until my car's fixed," you protested. "That's why I'm here in the first place.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"Ok, fine, fine," he relented. "Whatever. You can come with me, but just don't slow me down, alright?"

"Right," you said, nodding.

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. He just started walking, motioning for you to follow. You did, and soon the two of you were standing outside the storage room, the door open and the hallway beyond shrouded in darkness.

"Alright, the plan is, I'm going to distract her and make her pay," he whispered. "While I'm doing that, you're going to grab the keys to her car or whatever and get it started. We'll meet up outside and drive off, and that'll be the end of it."

"You're… very confident for someone who was tied up to a chair five minutes ago," you had another attempt at lightening the mood, but he just gave you a pointed look.

Again, he didn’t seem amused. "Yeah, well, she's a bitch, and I don't appreciate being treated like a goddamn lab rat."

He has an odd way of speaking, you noticed. His words were short and clipped, and he never used more than he needed. It was a little intimidating, but mostly it was just kind of interesting.

"How’d do you even end up like that, anyway?"

He gave you another one of his annoyed looks. It was weird how much he could convey with just his eyes, but the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"Don’t ask stupid questions,"

"Well, it seems like a reasonable question, considering the circumstances," you retorted.

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, of course,"

"Then stop asking stupid questions and focus on the task at hand. You get the car, I'll take care of Melinda. Simple."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. He seemed pleased with your response and began to lead the way down the hall, moving quietly and staying close to the walls.

You followed him, keeping your footsteps light. As you went, you thought about the situation.

Melinda, in the five minutes of knowing her, never struck you as the violent type. A little socially weird, yes, but not violent. It seemed out of character, and you wondered if she had a reason for acting the way she did. Or maybe she was just crazy, like the guy had said.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him hold up a hand. You stopped, and he pointed to the corner. You looked, and saw Melinda's form moving past the entrance to the hall, a flashlight in her hand.

The man motioned for you to stay put and moved silently towards the entrance. You watched him, unable to do anything else.

When he reached the opening, he paused. He was still, and for a moment, you thought he had lost his nerve.

He didn't hesitate for long. In one quick motion, he darted out of the hall, his crowbar held high.

Melinda jumped back, the light from her flashlight swinging wildly as she tried to regain her footing. She swung her flashlight at him, and the metal bar made a dull clang when it collided with her temporary weapon.

He stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He lunged at her again, but this time she was ready. He had stopped fast when she pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.

I guess he was telling the truth.

“Just stop, okay? You can leave now, I'll let you go. Just don't-"

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a word you say," the man interrupted, his tone low and menacing.

She stammered, trying to think of an answer. She didn't get the chance, though. Her eyes had caught sight of you, and she had noticed that you weren't where she had left you.

"Oh, oh god," she whispered, her voice filled with horror. "No, no, no. No, you weren't supposed to-"

The man swung the crowbar, and the gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the floor.

He moved in quickly, swinging his arm again. She dodged, and the metal bar hit the wall, creating a large dent in the plaster.

Melinda backed away, her hands raised, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she cried, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry?! You… you drugged me and tried to…” He paused, stopping momentarily before pointing the crowbar at her face. “The point is, sorry isn't going to cut it, you bitch."

He swung at her again, and again, she dodged.

She was fast, and he wasn't, and soon, he had lost his balance. She shoved him hard, sending him flying backwards.

He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't move, and Melinda stood over him, panting and wild eyed. The gun found her hands again, and she pointed it at his head, her hand trembling.

You had to do something. You couldn't just stand by and watch him die.

You did the only thing you could think of.

You went into your bag and took out the very same pepper spray that you had been carrying since the start of this nightmare, and fired.

The stream hit her right in the eyes, and she screamed, dropping the gun. It hit the floor with a loud thunk, and you dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at her.

"Don't move," you yelled, your voice shaking. "I'm warning you. I'm not afraid to use this."

Actually, that was a lie. You were absolutely terrified, and your hands were trembling so badly that you were barely able to keep a grip on the gun.

But you couldn't back down now. Not after everything you had been through.

She had stopped screaming, but was still clutching her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She was moaning and stumbling around, trying to find her way back to the wall.

She finally found it, and leaned against it, her eyes closed.

"Please, please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please don't hurt me."

You glanced at the man. He was staring up at you, his expression unreadable.

"I should take that gun and shoot you right now," he said. "After what you did, I should kill you."

"Please," she whimpered.

He stared at her, and for a moment, you didn't know what he would do. Then, he got to his feet, picking up his crowbar as he did so.

Before she can even react he took a swing, hitting her right in the stomach. She gasped and fell to the floor, curling up into a ball.

He took another swing, this time aiming for her face.

You stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but the blow didn't land.

Instead, he stood there, the crowbar held high. Melinda was looking up at him, her face red and streaked with tears.

"I just needed money," he spoke, his voice low and harsh. "That's it. Money. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a simple robbery with no one getting hurt."

She said nothing, just stared at him.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in shock. Robbery? He was robbing the damn station?

He sighed and lowered the crowbar, shaking his head.

"It's not like I wanted to do this, okay? I needed the money, and it was just an easy target. But you couldn't just let me get away, could you? You just had to make it difficult. Now look at the mess we're in."

"You were robbing?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it still cut through the tension like a knife.

He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged slightly.

"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was in trouble, probably still am, and I needed money. Lots of it. That's why I picked this place, because it was an easy target. I wasn't planning on anyone getting hurt, I was just going to rob the place and get out. I wasn't expecting this crazy lady to come along."

He gestured to Melinda, who was still curled up on the ground.

"I was just trying to rob the place," he repeated. "It was nothing personal. And look, you helped me, so I guess I owe you one, or whatever. So, let's just call it even, and we can go our separate ways. Deal?"

“Even Melinda?” You asked, your voice shaking.

He paused, and his eyes flicked over to the woman on the ground, a slight grimace crossing his face.

"Of course not. She was a psychopath who tied me up and threatened me, and I'm not about to just let her walk away after all the shit she's pulled."

Melinda looked up at him, her face contorted with fear. He didn’t seem to care though, but what he did was tell you to leave, and that he'll take care of things.

So, you did, but not before grabbing your bag, and not before snagged out those car keys of hers. The odd thing you did notice though, while leaving the store, was how the entire floor seemed wet. It wasn't until about an hour of just simply waiting in the dark that you figured why.

And you realized as you saw the sudden rise of flames, the smoke billowing from the open door, that you indeed did not have that help from that mystery man after all.

Your car will remain broken.

So, I wrote this long piece of work because I went searching and found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING (which honestly it’s a crime given how fine he was in this movie — at least people realized it with Mike lmfao) so I wrote what I wanted to read.

I hope that this becomes a Rhys Montrose type of situation (For those who don’t know what I mean, this character Rhys from Season 4 of the show, You, had no fanfics on here and I basically jumpstarted it by writing like 4 of them lol) because I feel this character and movie deserves more hype and attention. Just look up edits of Billy from the movie and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyways if you’re actually still reading, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶✨

(Also, if you see any more fics of this man… pls tag me. I’m desperate lmfao)

#josh hutcherson x reader #billy burn #billy #burn #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader #billy burn x reader #burn 2019 #billy x female!reader #josh hutcherson #reader #fanfiction #fnaf movie #fnaf #michael schmidt x reader #billy burn x female!reader #billy burns #burn x reader #mike schmidt x reader #michael schmidt #fnaf x reader #fnaf mike schmidt #five nights at freddys movie #five nights at freddys #hurt/comfort #plot driven #mike schmidt x female!reader #female reader #fnaf x y/n #michael schmidt fanfic

[papercorgiworld]

The Death Eater Drabbles 2:

Cuts and bruised egos

Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo, Draco and Blaise

Read part 1: Untie me.

You have to take care of your prisoner, which means spending time together.

Find part 3 here

You had been staring at a wiggenweld potion for over 30 minutes contemplating on whether or not to use it to heal your prisoner. You were short on ingredients, so you normally only used it for really bad injuries. And since your new housemate was still complaining and not crying of pain you really had no right to offer him the healing potion. However, you were really not looking forward to cleaning him up and healing every injury. It demanded that you stay in the same room for longer than 5 minutes and not just that you had to sit close to him. Thankfully he was still tied up.

Urgh, this is going to be a nightmare.

Mattheo Riddle

His legs were dangling on the bedside as he lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, but as soon as he heard you enter he sat up. “Here to give me my bath?” He asks with a smug smile. You sigh but make your way over and sit next to him. Mattheo’s eyes land on the bowl of warm water and the small towel you’re holding. He wants to say something snappy, but at the same time his face and torso are really hurting. So he keeps quiet and watches you dip the tip of the towel in the water. You try to clean off the blood without reopening the cuts or pushing too hard on the bruised skin. When you see him clench his jaw you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I’m almost done.” His eyes never meet yours and he simply forces a smile. “It’s nothing.” You stare at him sympathetically, not buying into his tough act. After a few more soft touches his face looks better. “You have a few small cuts, but they will heal on their own.”

You get up and want to head for the door when he urgently gets up as well, startling you. You watch him as he clearly searches for words, but he just clenches his jaw again. “Nothing.” Is all he says and sits back down on the bed. It’s then that you notice him wince in pain. You press your lips together. Why do I feel so bad for him? “Where does it hurt?” You ask and he looks up. Mattheo just shakes his head. “I’m fine.” You roll your eyes and put the bowl of water on the nightstand before sitting down next to Mattheo. “Right you’re so tough you don’t get hurt or don’t feel pain.” You mock him and he’s clearly annoyed with you. But before he can open his mouth your hand is already on his chest and slides down. When you press down on the sensitive spot on his side a painful hiss escapes him. He curses himself for being so vulnerable. “That’s your good mate, Harry’s work.” You’re a bit shaken by the anger in his voice. “Shouldn’t ‘ve picked a fight with him.” He looks at you, but you avoid his gaze and focus on unbuttoning his shirt. “Not like I had a choice.”

You look up and his dead and angry eyes lock with yours. “You must really enjoy this?” Mattheo snaps with venom dripping from his words. “No I don’t, but I bet most girls would pay money to undress you.” Your attempt to lighten the mood seems to be a success as Mattheo’s death glare falls. You’re done with the last button and examine the bruise on his side. “Nothing a simple healing spell can’t fix.” You pull out your wand and make the bruise fade. “Do you take such good care of all your prisoners?” You smile pleased that he’s calmed down. “You’re my only prisoner.” You answer as you get up. “Sounds like marriage to me.” You narrow your eyes at his horrible joke. “How about I get you some clean clothes?” His signature smirk is back on his face as he watches you leave. Oh please, (y/n), don’t be so nice to me, I might never wanna leave.

Theodore Nott

Theo lay on the bed and was resting his eyes, but when he heard the key flick his eyes flung open. “Missed you.” He quips with amusement ringing in his voice. He rolls to his side. You snort and go to sit on the bed. “I’m here to check your injury.” You push him back on his back. “Going to undress me, this is getting interesting.” Your lips form a line as you shake your head. “Don’t get your hopes up, Nott.” You unbutton his shirt and as expected a large cut stretched over his torso. “I won’t be able to heal it at once, but I’ll do my best to ease the pain.” His smirk fades as he watches you gently dip a towel in warm water to slowly clean off the blood. He winces in pain a few times. “I’ll be done soon.” You reassure him. Theo just huffs, an arrogant grin on his face. “I’ve had worse.” You look at him with a disapproving look. “That’s not something to be proud of.” Once the cut is cleaned you use a spell to heal it a bit and to bantage him.

Theo watches you as you clean the slightly bloodied water with one flick of your wand. “Okay, now let me look at that face.” As you reach for his cheek he pulls away. “It’s not that bad.” You sigh and roll your eyes. “Let me at least check. Otherwise you might end up scared.” Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Don’t you women love a man with a scar?” You let out a laugh. “I guess having a scar can be sexy, but trust me your pretty face already has a few small scars and that’s sexy enough for you.” You lean a bit over him and start cleaning his face. It wasn’t that bad, but it’s definitely better with all the blood gone. “You’re really taking good care of me, especially since I’m your enemy.” He suddenly blurs out, instantly regretting it. You look him in the eyes and give him a soft smile. “You decided to be my enemy, but I never chose to be yours.” You carefully push some of his messy hair out of his eyes. He pulls his face away from you. “You made a choice too.” He says bitterly. “Attacking people is a choice, Theo, but protecting the people I love that’s not a choice, that's just my duty.” Theodore just stares holes into your skull. “That’s a hollow argument, things are never that easy.” Your eyes linger over his bandaged torso. “You’re probably right.” You turn your eyes back to his face and force a sweet smile. “Anyways you look a lot better.” Theo nods softly. “Thank you.” His sincerity touches you. “Now, let me look, maybe I can get you some clean clothes.” I never wanted to be your enemy, (y/n), I never chose that.”

Enzo Berkshire

Enzo was sitting on the bed while leaning against the frame. When he sees you enter he jumps to his feet. “Change your mind?” He wiggles his eyebrows. You smile at his playfulness. “No.” You say and you give him a soft shove so he lands on the bed. “Your actions are giving me different signals. Pushing someone on a bed is clear language to me.” A giggle rolls over your lips and Enzo watches you with admiration. “I’m here to check on the cuts and bruises on your face.” You sit down next to him and push a few strands of his hair aside. You frown as you see one particular deep cut above his right eyebrow. “Hermoine is merciless. She slammed my face into a wall twice.” You don’t look at him as you dip a towel into a bowl of warm water. “Maybe you shouldn’t have attacked them in the first place.” You state as you softly swipe the towel against his face. “It was three against one. I thought that if I surprised them I could get away. I swear I wasn’t really trying to kill them.” You pull away for a moment to watch his expression trying to figure out if he was being truthful. You keep quiet not really knowing what to say. If he was indeed outnumbered he was probably scared.

“I’m glad you’re here with me.” Enzo speaks up as you start cleaning the gaping cut near his eyebrow. You simply give him a smile. When you suddenly pull out your wand Enzo jumps a bit. “No worries, I’m going to heal you so you aren’t left with any scars.” He lets out a sigh of relief and you tap your wand against his head healing him. “I’m not going to hurt you as long as you don’t try to escape.” You say while you put your wand away. Enzo offers you a bright smile. “It’s like I’m in heaven. I’ve got a soft bed and a pretty girl taking care of me. What more can I ask for.” “Maybe some fresh clothes?” Enzo nods and watches you leave in awe. Heaven.

Draco Malfoy

You walk in and Draco huffs in annoyance. He had been pacing around the room in frustration. “Ready for part two of our bad date?” You say referring to his earlier comment in an attempt to lighten the mood. A foul look appears on Draco’s face. “For your own sake let me just check your injury and heal you.” He narrows his eyes at you weighing his options. “Fine. But don’t jab your brute fingers between my ribs again.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “How about you drop the attitude and I won’t jab.” He ignores you and reluctantly takes a seat on the bed. Draco watches you carefully as you work your way down every button. “This is straight up embarrassing.” You raise a questioning eyebrow at Draco. “You, undressing me while I’m tied up.” He explains with a harsh tone. You roll your eyes. “Trust me, Malfoy, undressing ‘you’ wasn’t on my bucket list either.” “You probably prefer Potter then? A bit cheap for you isn’t he?” Your eyes fling up in anger, ignoring his half undone shirt that your fingers are still working on. “No, Harry is just my friend. But he’s not cheap. And honestly, I hate rich kids like you.” Your boiling frustration reaches its peak when the last button of his shirt won’t budge. In anger you accidentally rip his shirt. Draco’s eyes widen and embarrassment washes over you. “Sure, says the girl that literally tore my shirt off.”

If looks could kill you would be burying Draco instead of healing him. When he finally drops his arrogant smirk your death glare falls as well. You inspect the bruises on his side and he watches you in silence, adoring your beautiful features. “A quick healing spell and you should be all better.” You announce before pulling out your wand. “Don’t screw this up.” You simply narrow your eyes at him and cast the spell. “I feel better, you did well, I’m impressed.” Draco says in an attempt to sound grateful. You sigh, but refuse to get into another argument. Draco is disappointed by the fact that you aren’t entertaining him with snappy retorts anymore. He really doesn’t want you to leave so soon already. “This was an expensive shirt and you tore it.” You roll your eyes, but look at his bare upper half. You couldn’t leave him like this. “Alright, I‘ll see if I can find you a new shirt.” He nods and forces out a hesitant ‘thanks’ before you leave the room. Draco lets himself fall onto the bed. (Y/n), you can tear off my shirt anytime.

Blaise Zabini

You hadn’t properly set foot in the guest room and Blaise’s playful voice was already ringing in your ears. “Missed me?” You huff. “Not in the slightest.” He’s not convinced and continues grinning. “I’m here to fix up your face and make sure you don’t have any fractures.” Blaise stands up from the bed and walks towards you towering over you. “Just admit, (y/n), you missed me.” You reach for his face, gently stroking over the marks and bruises. Blaise’s playful smile drops. “Your friends would’ve never caught me if they hadn’t snuck up on me.” You frown, not impressed by his arrogant tone. “Pretty sure they said they stumbled into you by accident, not really the same as sneaking up on someone.” You push against his chest urging him to sit down on the bed. He complies, his eyes never leaving yours. “Harry is just trying to impress you.” A smile creeps up on your face. “Harry is trying to impress me? Sounds more like you’re trying to find excuses for being a sucky wizard.” Blaise immediately pushes himself up from the bed. “Am not!” You snicker at how easily he was offended. “Sit.” You command as you push him down again and pull out your wand.

“Maybe I just don’t want you to think I’m less of a wizard because they beat me in an unfair duell.” Blaise confesses and you stare at him for several seconds before looking down at your feet. “I don’t think less of you because you got caught, I just don’t trust you because you, you know, you joined him.” His lips part but no words come out. You offer him a sympathetic smile and get up heading for the door. “It’s complicated.” Blaise finally says and you turn around to look at him. “Yeah.” You whisper softly, understanding that it probably wasn’t his choice to get involved. As you look him up and down you notice how ragged his clothes are. “You really need some fresh clothes. I’ll be right back.” Much rather have a fresh start with you, but I’ll take the clothes.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

[punkshort]

The Stranger

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: An unexpected visitor barges into your new apartment, turning your whole life upside down, then disappears just as quickly. Or does he?

Warnings: infidelity is mentioned (reader gets cheated on by OC), language, threats of violence, heavy making out and some sexy situations but no smut

WC: 3K

A/N: When I wrote this, I had still yet to see The Equalizer 2 but I wanted to write an assassin fic and Dave was just right there. So, for the sake of this story, Dave doesn't have a family and he has a cover job. K bye.

Written for @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge

Sunday Night

The apartment was small and a little dirty, but it would do. It would have to. The choices were limited on such short notice, and beggars can't be choosers.

The last thing you thought you would be doing the night before you started your new job was unpacking what little belongings you had in the middle of a goddamn thunderstorm. In an ideal world, you would have waited to move in when the weather was expected to clear, but when you walked in on your boyfriend of four years naked in your bed with his ex-girlfriend only a week ago, you would have moved in the middle of a blizzard if you had to.

That was how you found yourself late Sunday night drenched in a mix of your own sweat and rain, unpacking the last of your clothes from wet cardboard boxes. Making your bedroom the priority was a must. The last thing you needed on top of everything else was wrinkled clothes and a bad night's sleep for your first day of work.

If only you knew what your night had in store.

You were just starting to unpack the boxes for your bathroom, cursing under your breath when you noticed the towels at the very top and bottom of said box were soaked in rain water, when you heard a pounding on your door so loud, you almost screamed.

Nobody even had your address yet. Too embarrassed to tell your friends what your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - did, the only people who knew you were moving were your parents, and they certainly wouldn't be blessing you with a surprise visit on this side of town after dark.

Tip-toeing out of your bedroom, your hair a half-dry and tangled mess, you slowly crept towards your door. Just as you were about to peek through the peephole, you heard the deadbolt unlock and the door swung open, only to be stopped by a laughably weak, eight link chain.

"Alvarez, it's me, open up," a gruff voice said through the crack in the door. He sounded panicked, but at least it wasn't a home invasion. This man just didn't realize Mr. Alvarez was no longer here and he must have had a key.

Combing your hair back from your face, you tentatively stepped into the beam of light that stretched into your living room from the hallway. When you locked eyes with your stranger, all dark and mysterious, your throat constricted. You could only see part of his face, just one eye and half of his soft looking mouth, but your heart still fluttered a bit in your chest.

"Who are you?" he frowned, eyeing you up and down, and suddenly you felt incredibly self-conscious standing in your own apartment only wearing your white tank top and sleep shorts.

"Excuse me? I live here. Who are you?" you countered, crossing your arms defensively. The man scoffed and tried to get a better glimpse of your apartment, as if he were expecting another person to emerge.

"Where's Alvarez?"

At that point, you felt a little bad. If this man knew Mr. Alvarez well enough to have a key, what you were about to tell him would be devastating, so you sighed and motioned for him to step back.

"Let me undo the chain," you explained, and he paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on your chest before taking a step back and allowing you to close the door and slide the chain off. When you reopened it, you finally saw all of your mystery man. He was decked out in black: black ski cap, black leather gloves, black jeans and jacket, and he dripped rainwater from each article of clothing, creating a small puddle in the thin carpet right outside your door.

"I'm so sorry, but Mr. Alvarez passed away a few weeks ago," you said sympathetically, and while, in your experience, men tended to be less emotional, you didn't expect his response.

"Well that's just fucking great," he muttered, and for the first time you realized he was out of breath. Red flags began to pop up everywhere: the dark clothes, the indifferent response to a friend's death, the fucking hand hidden behind his back. How didn't you notice that before?

You went to quickly shut your door but his hand shot out and stopped you.

"I'm sorry, but I'm gonna need to come in," he said, and your eyes went wide. Your parents warned you this side of town was bad, but the very first night?

"No!" you protested, putting all your weight into pushing on your door, but he wedged himself so you couldn't close it.

"I left something in here and I need it," he explained through gritted teeth.

"Nothing was here when I moved in," you said, still pushing on the door, "I have my phone and I'm calling the police!"

It was a lie. You didn't have your phone. It was still charging on your bed, but you had hoped that would make the man leave. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

The door shoved open and you flew backwards, falling onto your back with a yelp, a sharp pain shooting up your spine.

The man entered your apartment and quickly shut the door behind him before glancing around.

"Are we alone?"

You scowled at him, about to lie, but you realized there was no point so you didn't say anything. He sighed and reached out an arm.

"I'm sorry," he said, and for the first time in your brief interaction, you heard some emotion in his voice. You stared hesitantly at his still wet, gloved hand before grabbing it and allowing him to pull you back up as you rubbed the back of your head with a wince. "You okay?" he asked, his brows furrowed and when you realized both his hands were visible, you relaxed a fraction.

"I think so. What the hell? Who are you?"

"I'm-"

He was about to explain when you both heard heavy footsteps running towards your door. In the blink of an eye, he reached forward and slid the chain back into the lock and deadbolted the door. There wasn't a second to spare because two fists began pounding heavily on the door from the other side.

You gasped softly and stepped backwards, eyes wide and filled with fear. That was when your mystery man pulled out the handgun from the back of his pants, silencer already attached, and your mind went blank.

This was how you were going to die.

"Open up!" a man's voice shouted from the other side as he began to kick at the door, making you jump. The intruder turned to you just as a rumble of thunder shook your building.

"You gotta make them leave."

"Me?" you whispered in a panic, "how do you expect me to do that?"

"They want me, and if they know I'm here, they'll kill me. Do you understand?" he asked, matching the volume of your voice while grabbing your shoulders.

Your lower lip began to tremble and he noticed.

"You can do this," he assured you, walking you backwards towards your bedroom as the shouting and pounding got louder. And as you stared into his deep brown eyes, you started to believe him. "I'm gonna hide and then you gotta tell them I'm not here. Can you do that?"

"If they just want you, why don't I just let them have you?" you asked as he continued to walk you backwards.

"Because they'll kill you, too," he said, his gaze never wavering. "These guys don't leave loose ends."

Fear shot through your body like the bolt of lightning outside your window.

Once he got to your bedroom, he released his grip on your shoulders and headed for your closet. He opened the accordion doors and pushed your clothes aside before sliding in against the wall.

"Just convince them I'm not here. You just moved in, you have no idea what they're talking about, okay?" he said, holding your gaze until you slowly nodded. Then he snapped the doors shut and shuffled your clothes around, leaving you all alone.

As you walked back towards your front door, you snagged a towel from the open box of bathroom stuff and wrapped it around your hair. You could do this. You had to.

You took a deep breath, your hand curling around the brass doorknob, and yanked it open, the chain still holding the door in place so you only saw a glimpse of the men in the hall, but you could see at least four.

"Can I help you?" you asked, trying your best to sound annoyed and not scared for your life. "You interrupted my shower," you added, pointing to your wrapped hair.

"Where is he?" the first man asked. His head was bald but you could see some stubble coming through, indicating he must shave his head.

"Who?" you asked innocently, and the man sneered.

"You know who."

"Actually, no I don't," you said, crossing your arms. "This is my apartment and I was enjoying a quiet night in before you arrived."

"Oh, yeah? You wear a men's shoe, size eleven?" the beefy looking guy asked, quirking an eyebrow as he stared down at the floor. Your eyes slowly drifted down and noticed a wet and dirty outline of your stranger's boot pressed firmly into the ancient beige carpet.

"No," you said, meeting his eye again. "But my boyfriend does. And he's out getting us dinner. We just moved in tonight," you told him confidently, squaring your shoulders and fucking praying the chain would hold if push came to shove.

You saw the men behind him exchange glances and shift their weight as they mulled over what you said. It was working. All you could hear was your own heart pounding loudly in your chest, the rain beating heavily against the glass windows of your living room, and in the distance, another soft rumble of thunder.

The bald man shot one more cursory glance into your apartment before meeting your eye.

"Must have the wrong unit."

You smirked.

"Honest mistake," you said, bravely holding his gaze as the group of them slowly ambled back towards the stairs. Once they were out of sight, you shut the door and twisted the lock, letting out a shaky breath. Your arms and legs were weak, head fuzzy from the adrenaline when you remembered a stranger was stuffed inside your closet.

Stumbling back towards your bedroom, you swung open the closet door, breath shallow and fast just to find him leaning up against the wall, a floorboard in your closet removed, revealing a now empty cash box, and holding up a piece of lingerie.

"For your boyfriend?" he questioned, and your fear quickly transformed into anger when you snatched it from his hand and tossed it on the floor next to his feet.

"Get the hell out of here," you told him, voice trembling.

He gave you a cocky smirk and pushed himself off the wall.

Gazing down at you, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, he lowly asked "got a towel I could use?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move towards the open box in the middle of your room, snatching up a clean towel and tossing it to him before pulling your own towel from your head and dropping it by your feet.

You watched for a moment as he plucked the ski cap off his head, revealing a thicket of dark brown, wet hair and used the towel to help flick away the moisture. Then your eyes landed on his gun, now tucked into the front of his jeans.

His gaze followed yours and smirked, thinking you were looking at something else.

"See something you like?" he asked, making you blush.

You swallowed roughly and took a step back. "Are you going to kill me, now?"

His gaze softened and he dropped his towel next to yours.

"No."

You eyed him wearily, still not believing him until he took the gun from his pants and tossed it on your bed, a good five feet away, leaving you both defenseless.

"Better?" he asked, and you raked your eyes up and down his body.

"How do I know you don't have any other weapons on you?"

He grinned and took another step forward, his eyes darkening. "You wanna frisk me?"

Your cheeks flushed with heat and you looked away, but he pinched your chin, the leather soft against your skin, and tilted your head back in his direction.

"Tell me something," he murmured, his eyes boring into yours, "you really got a boyfriend coming back here?"

He could see your face fall and he instantly felt regret.

"No," you said softly, your eyes now pinned to the floor with shame, "we broke up. It's why I just moved in here."

He frowned as he studied your face. "Why did you break up?" he asked, his fingers still gripping your chin.

"Caught him cheating on me," you told him. Why could you tell this perfect stranger your deepest shame but you couldn't tell your best friends?

He tsked and inched a little closer. "He's a fucking idiot."

Your eyes snapped up to his in surprise, only to find desire and need reflected right back.

Before either of you could overthink it, your mouths crashed together, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck and his hands pulling at your waist, dragging you against him as you devoured one another. Your fingers raked through his still damp hair, his skin smelling like the rain and sweat and gunpowder, the combination intoxicating. His tongue slipped past your lips with a groan, his exhale coming in quick, hot puffs against your cheek as he walked you back toward your bedroom wall. Once your body made contact with the chipped paint, he reached down and snagged the backs of your thighs, wrapping your legs around him while his tongue swirled aggressively around yours.

When he ground his hips into you, his hardening length rubbing against the ache between your legs, you gasped and tipped your head back.

"I don't even know your name," you whispered as his lips traveled down your neck, nipping and biting playfully as he went, the rain sounding like little musical notes against your singular bedroom window. He just moaned against your skin, his teeth dragging lightly over your collarbone while you rolled your hips against him, desperately some seeking relief for the fire he started between your legs.

He yanked you from the wall, a small squeak of surprise slipping past your lips, fingers digging into his broad shoulders as he carried you to your bed and dropped you down next to his gun. His assault on your neck never stopped. You arched your back, wishing he would take off those damn gloves so you could feel him when his phone suddenly trilled in his pocket. His lips stalled and you held your breath, each of you frozen in the moment wondering how you managed to find yourselves in such a compromising position so quickly.

"Shit," he whispered, reaching into his pants pocket, and you knew right then and there it was over.

He glanced at the screen and gave you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry," he said, pushing himself away from you and snatching up his gun and hat. "I gotta go."

You sat up on your bed and pressed your legs together, hoping your face didn't look as red as it felt.

Before he left, he glanced back at you, his eyes falling to your mouth, watching as your teeth sunk anxiously into your lower lip, chin bright red from the burn of his five o'clock shadow.

"Thank you," he said, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. And before you could respond, he disappeared with just a soft click of your door, making you wonder by morning if you had dreamed him up.

Monday

As expected, you hardly slept. Sleeping in a new place all on its own had its challenges, but after almost dying a handful of times within an hour, a good nights sleep was pretty much out of the question.

You don't know why you did it, but as you were getting ready for work, after a lukewarm shower, you foolishly grabbed the piece of lingerie your stranger discovered in your closet and put it on under your clothes. Maybe you wanted a reminder of him, or maybe you just wanted to feel more confident.

Arriving ten minutes early, the rain drying on the sidewalk but the smell still thick and heavy in the air, you strode up to the front doors of the financial consulting firm, hoping that the amount of coffee you poured down your throat that morning would be enough to keep you at your best.

The perky blonde from HR was showing you around the impressive building as she led you back to the department you would be working with. You were longingly eyeing the fresh fruit in the break room when you turned around and nearly ran smack dab into her back, stumbling a bit in the process.

An apology died on your lips when you found yourself looking past her, gaze falling onto an all too familiar looking man inside an office less than ten feet away, his phone cradled between his shoulder and ear as he typed into his computer, a concentrated look painting his impossibly handsome face. His dark, soft hair was neatly combed, his plush lips twitching into the receiver as his muscular shoulders stretched the fabric of his light blue button down, and when he reached for a file, his eye suddenly catching yours.

Neither of you looked away while he continued to give one word answers over the phone and you barely recognized that the HR girl was showing you your new desk. A desk right outside his office. All you could think about was what his hair felt like between your fingers, what his mouth felt like when he left those marks on your neck you had to cover that morning with makeup.

How he left you, needy and aching for more.

Then your eyes flicked to the shiny name plaque next to his door frame: Dave York.

Part two

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#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #dave york #the equalizer 2 #pedro pascal #dave york fanfiction #dave york x reader #dave york x female reader #the equalizer 2 fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #one shot

[risuola]

OPEN YOUR MOUTH FOR ME — F. READER x NANAMI KENTO, who joined you for a simple mission during the Halloween night

You liked to joke that Nanami is always overdressed for the occasion. His suits were always crisp and perfectly tailored, showing the unmatched confidence with their color – light beige fabric in combination with dark blue button-up perfectly accentuated his mature features and blonde hair. Your work colleague knows how to dress to impress, and the grown-up apparition matched his character perfectly. Both were cold and calculated, so once, you decided to greet him in the hotel room a little underdressed.

cw: smut, lingerie + suit, blindfold, oral (m. receiving) face fucking/deepthroating, reader discretion is advised — 3,1k words

masterlist

If there was ever a person who’s overdressed for every occasion, who always looks composed and perfectly prepared, who always has suits perfectly crisp and tailored – it would be Nanami Kento.

Your friend since high school, your former classmate, your now work colleague and one of the closest people to you. Your bond with him is unbreakable, many horrible experiences you shared over a decade of being sorcerers, despite him leaving for a little while but besides what’s bad, you have so many great memories with him, it’s hard to describe. So many movie nights, every each of them quickly turning into late hours of just talking, drinking wine and enjoying the time together; so many casual walks, so many bakery visits and tests. He was your number one guinea pig when it came to your amateur baking hobby – he tried everything you made, gave you his honest opinion, sometimes too brutal, but you loved him for that. There was no bullshit when it came to Nanami, he always spoke his mind and you valued his opinion above everyone else’s. He’s a great friend.

That being said, there was always a lot of bickering between you two, and the way he’s always suited up, with that atrocious tie is your main weapon of choice when it comes to pushing his buttons – even though he looks perfectly fine, and he knows it. There’s no denying that Nanami Kento is a man created to wear suits. His fit, muscular frame fills in this kind of clothes perfectly and it also fitted his character. Calm, collected, always composed and on the field – effective enough to never stain the light beige fabric of one of his favorite numbers. It showed how confident in his skill he is and if someone makes him take his tie off and loosen up the dark blue shirt, you always pitied them. When the yellowish, spotted tie comes off, you know Nanami means business.

Even though you often made fun of the way Kento’s suited up even to go and grab groceries, you couldn’t say you don’t enjoy the view. You’re friends, but you’re not oblivious to how attractive he is – tall and broad, with his light blonde hair swooped back, his strong features and cheekbones sharp enough, you were sure, to cut a finger once touched. Not much of that skinny emo boy from ten years ago was now left in him and you’d say he had a great glow up. He aged like a fine wine and sometimes you caught yourself wishing to have a taste. To cross the line of friendship and explore more of him. Sometimes, during those long late hours, in the silence of the nights when it’s only you and him chatting quietly, you wondered how would he react if you just caressed his thigh. How would he react if you kissed his neck or slipped your hand over the very inviting bulge in his pants? Would he flinch away? Told you to stop? Maybe his composure would snap, and he’d taken you on the couch? You’d lie if you say you never fantasized about being fucked by him. You don’t need him to be your boyfriend, you don’t need commitment, you just wished he’d let you have a friendly taste of him.

The night of Halloween was never really your favorite – not because you’re that no- fun, but because during that night, many curses were let loose, balancing between crowds and some people couldn’t even notice what hurt them. Chaos was integral part of 31st of October and although you didn’t like it, you learned to accept it. That year you and Nanami got paired up to check on one little place on the outskirts of Tokyo – it was a simple mission, you quickly had it done and you couldn’t be more grateful to have him as a partner. You were meant to stay in the hotel for the night, just in case something happened, but ultimately, around 9pm you were already finished with the job.

That night you decided to test your luck. Worst case scenario, it will be just a little awkward and quickly forgotten. Best case – you’d achieve what you want. With that in mind, you couldn’t be happier when Nanami told you that he’s gonna go and quickly check things outside once more, just to make sure, reassuring you that you can stay in the room because he’ll be right back. Giving him a nod on that, you told him you’ll take a quick shower and that’s when he left.

Cold, October air cooled Nanami’s thoughts a little. The job was easy, there was nothing for him to check on, but he just needed a quick breather to calm his nerves before the night you two were meant to spend together. It wasn’t the first time, you had countless sleepovers, you shared beds previously, you hugged and held hands many times, but somehow, for a little while now, Kento couldn’t really keep his cool next to you. He had always found you attractive – you were just perfect in every aspect he could think of. Maybe except the baking, but even that you improved a lot recently. You were the only woman he had such close contact since high school and, of course, there were his other female friends, like Shoko, Utahime or Mei Mei, but you, being his classmate – he felt the most comfortable with you. He loved your character; so light and cheerful and yet mature and calm. Nothing soothed him more than those movie nights with you. The ones that always turned into hours of chats about everything, with the film playing in the background. And in his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman he’s seen. Your figure got him salivating; so many nights he spent fucking his hand with the picture of you in front of his mind, it was almost embarrassing to think of a friend that way. But he couldn’t help himself and deep down, he was thankful for the way his body was able to keep composure with you close to him.

He had no idea how he’ll survive another night in one bed with you – it’s been quite some time since you shared one bed. For few years now, even if you were on a job together, you usually had different rooms or at least separate beds. He wouldn’t count those nights when you fall asleep on his shoulder, fully clothed on the couch as sleeping together. He couldn’t tell how many times he wished to just have you. For once. To see how you taste, how you feel. To make you feel good. Would that make things awkward between you two afterwards? He couldn’t tell. You were always fully honest with yourselves. Well, almost, because if he was to be completely straightforward with you, he’d tell you already that he dreams of you bouncing on his dick.

“Oh, fucking hell, get it together, Kento,” he muttered to himself, looking up at the clear sky through the soft cloud of steam that came from his mouth – evidence of temperature now being much lower at nights than it used to be in the last few months. The harsh moonlight nearly blinded him and he exhaled deeply, silently wishing that instead of this boring mission he’d get something more involving. Maybe patrolling Shibuya on one of the busiest nights during the year would have him occupied enough to not wonder how your pussy would feel around his cock. Could you even take him? Would you cry? Would you enjoy it? Fuck, he was really doomed.

Coming to terms with his cursed fate, he visited nearest convenience store, grabbing few of your favorite sweets and a bottle of wine and headed back to the hotel. You were nowhere to be seen in the apartment but the quiet cacophony of hushed noises from the bathroom clearly indicated that you were still there, probably getting ready to bed, so Nanami made sure the doors are closed and put the alcohol into the fridge. His thoughts were still wondering somewhere between reality and a fantasy of you.

“You bought us some liquid courage?”, you joked from behind him, your voice soft and mentally he kicked himself for not noticing you sneaking up on him, because when he turned out, the sight caught him off guard.

You were there, smelling divine with the slightly fruity note of the shower gel you used. Your hair was dry mostly, just barely dampened at the ends but what made him forget how to breathe properly was what you were wearing. Or rather what you were not wearing. You stood there, heightened on your tippytoes and barefoot, dressed only in a set of lingerie – it was blood-red in color, made entirely of thin, soft looking lace and leaving not much to imagination in a way it hugged your breasts; the see-through pattern made your nipples just teasingly noticeable. There was a thin, golden necklace hanging on your neck, drawing attention between your breasts where little letters K and H were hanging – your way of having both of your former classmates always next to your heart, but now he couldn’t focus on the shiny accessory when it was situated in the little valley between the swell of your chest. When Nanami looked a little lower, his eyes sliding down the curves of your body right to where the little, equally thin panties were resting against your hips, he swallowed thickly. The view went straight to his dick and it felt straining already.

“Should I look away?”, he asked, his voice cracking just barely at the beginning of the sentence, but his voice was now an octave lower, and you found it incredibly attractive. The question he asked was experimental, he needed to know if you wanted him to look at you or you just, for some reason, forgot the clothes from your backpack and came to get them.

“I’d wish you to not,” you replied, gently placing your hands over his chest and pushing him few steps back, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Once you took his glasses off and made your way to the little table to safely put them there, you gave Nanami a chance to see the back of what little you were wearing, and he nearly moaned at the sight of the tiny thong.

“Is that your Halloween costume?”, he asked, noticing little devil-like tail that you had attached to the waist band of your panties. It’s only now that he realized there are two little horns on your head as well.

“It is Halloween after all,” you chuckled, getting back to him. “I figured you have enough tricks with Gojo, but I might have a treat for you.”

Kento sat down on the edge of the bed, pushed back by your hands and you found a place between his legs, slowly brushing your fingers through his hair. There was a certain amount of hesitation when he allowed his palms to rest on the sides of your thighs, the feeling of your soft skin sent electrical impulses from his fingertips to his member, making it more uncomfortable than it was just moments before.

“Oh my god, you’re beautiful,” he muttered, burying his nose into your stomach, peppering soft kisses over your flesh and immediately intoxicating himself with the subtle, sweet scent of you, the warmth of your flesh, the taste.

“So, you accept me as your Halloween treat?” You asked lightly, scratching at his scalp before he pulled away from your belly.

“If you are a treat, I might start liking that day.” He declared, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you over his thighs. You straddled him and immediately found his lips, hungry to finally taste him. Your nearly naked form and red lace contrasted heavily with the complete suit he still had on, the cotton fabric rested comfortably against your thighs as you fought with him for dominance in the kiss. Nanami’s large hands wandered over your shapes, examining your frame and sending shivers down your spine. His palms were cold against your skin, or maybe it was you who were burning with anticipation already, but the cool feeling made you gasp into his mouth.

Your hips rolled against his crotch; you could clearly feel his strangled erection fighting for any space inside his dress pants, the light beige cage trapping him almost painfully and you smiled into the kiss as he groaned lowly at the contact. Not faltering from his mouth, you began slowly grinding your clothed core against his dick, the size of his bulge made you more wet than you thought you’d be at this point and you were sure that if that takes any longer, you’ll leave a sticky patch over his trousers.

“Can I taste you?”, you asked, barely pulling away from the kiss; your lips still brushing against his as you panted out the words. “I really want to taste you, Kento.”

Nanami wasn’t the type to receive, he was rather the giver. He found pleasure in making others feel it, but who he was to say no, when you asked so nicely. Stealing one more kiss, he let go of your hips, allowing you to move down from his lap and he watched how you slowly dropped to your knees in front of him. He took few mental pictures of the sight, you really looked breathtaking like this, with your eyes half-lidded, your lips swollen and parted, glistening from saliva and panting softly for air. There was also some kind of unreasonable satisfaction to have you on your knees, dressed so scandalously whilst he had the perfectly tailored, business suit on.

“God, you’re bigger than I thought,” you muttered once his pants were opened and with a pull on his underwear, you let his cock spring free. His hard length bounced against his stomach, the tip angry and leaking, eager to be caressed and Kento purred when your hand wrapped around his girth, giving him few experimental pumps.

The way you looked at him from between his legs made him feel, like he could cum just from the sight of your eyes, so to spare himself the embarrassment, he grabbed his tie and with upmost expertise, covered your eyes with it. The sudden loss of vison made you gasp quietly, but there was no protest from you.

“Open your mouth for me,” he ordered and you were quick to comply, leaning in and giving his length few long licks. Your tongue followed the swollen vein on the underside of his cock and each stroke you finished with a soft suck on the tip. Hungry for more, you finally took him into your mouth, enveloping him with the warmth of your throat and you began to move – at first slowly, up and down, feeling his girth and using your hand where you couldn’t reach.

Nanami placed his large hand on top of your head, smoothing over your hair as you picked up the pace. The way your tongue danced around him, as you worked it intensely against his dick made him groan lowly – a sound that went straight in between your legs, the best kind of praise to what you were doing. You couldn’t see him, so what you were feeling and hearing filled you with satisfaction and you noted to yourself, that his already sexy voice sounds even hotter when he’s all worked up. You rarely ever heard Kento growl, he wasn’t usually angry or worn out enough to show anyone that side of him.

“Just like that, such a good girl,” he praised and you could feel him growing in your mouth, throbbing and flexing as you were sucking him like it was your job. But you were curious, so eager to know what he’s capable of, what he really wants because you struggled to believe he’s always so composed. Even now, as he was panting from pleasure you were giving him, you could tell he still held back, kept himself gentle and aware not to hurt you. You wanted him to let loose.

“Use me,” you pleaded, pulling him out of your mouth with a soft pop.

“I will hurt you,” he replied breathily, the top of his knuckles softly smoothing over your cheekbone.

“I will let you know if it’s too much,” you reassured. “I’ll tap your thigh if I can’t take it.”

There was no need to repeat it. Despite initial doubts, Nanami trusted you – a testimony to a decade you spent together. He knew you well enough to know you will indeed let him know if something’s wrong. You were not the type to please at the cost of your own health, so he wasn’t worrying that much when he collected all your hair into a ponytail, throwing the headband with devil horns away.

“Open,” his tone was demanding, way less friendly and much more harsh and the second after his words reached your ears, your jaw dropped down. You worked with him once his dick was back in your mouth, adjusting to the tempo he forced upon you. The tip of him time after time was hitting your throat, the salty precum spread all over your palate and you focused on breathing through your nose instead of gasping through lips.

You knew Nanami was close, you could feel his thighs tensing on your sides and you could tell by the way his grip on your hair tightened. The stinging pull on your follicles caused you to moan quietly, the vibration of your vocal cords reverberated onto his length and he groaned from above you. You teased him playfully with your teeth, grazing them alongside his dick and earning yourself a punishment – he pushed your head down onto himself, his tip deep down your throat and you whined incoherently, causing him to twitch right there. In no time, he was cumming, still forcing your head up and down his cock, abusing your pharynx with every thrust.

His seed was spilling through the corners of your mouth and once he let you off his member, his fingers were quick to catch the white drops from your chin and push them back into your mouth. Nanami scoffed slightly at the eagerness with which you sucked on his fingers and so it didn’t surprise him when even though he came already, you were quickly back on his dick, licking him clean and purring.

Nanami would let you play a little more if not for the desperate need to feel your pussy. Hence why in a matter of seconds, you were on the bed, flat on your back whilst he crawled above you, already toying with the waistband of your lacey panties.

“Now it’s my turn.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #kento #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #kento smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #jjk x you #jujutu kaisen x you #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #kento x you #kento nanami x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x y/n #kento x y/n #kento nanami x y/n

[c0eu4]

Could you write a fic for sebastian vettel? With driver reader? The plot is yours to decide but I want it to be fluff seb but rb era

Thanks in advance

SV5 | Don't be ashamed, sweetie

rb!sebastianvettel x fem!driver!reader

Summary: your period has always been painful and Seb helps you to relax.

Warning: Hurt/comfort

A/n: Think that the story takes place in 2012 and people are still very taboo about the subject of periods :/

MASTERLIST requests are close

You hate days like that. End even more when it's race week. You wake up with dirty hair, stomach ache and this horrible urge to vomit. You groan and roll over in your bed into the fetal position, wrapping your arms around yourself. You've always had painful periods. And having them when you have to drive is always hell.

You wipe the little tears that are falling from your eyes and sit on the bed, close in on yourself. You get up slowly, holding onto the nightstand, still keeping a hand on your stomach. You gasp at the horrible feeling between your legs and force yourself to walk to the bathroom. You hurry to change, wash your hands and fall back into bed.

You grab your phone and sigh when you see all the notifications. Some emails, Instagram, X and messages. You see the message from your teammates, Sebastian Vettel. He asks you if you're fine because you weren't looking good at the media day yesterday. You answer him simply that you're fine and turn off your phone.

Maybe the worst part of all this is that you're ashamed to talk about it. No one knows how bad you are during your period and you've only had it once during a race. Your parents have always been very close on this subject and it has always been taboo throughout your life.

You hide under the duvet, seeking warmth. Your whole body is frozen. It's like you were naked in the snow. It's true that your pajamas don't help you warm up, given the prevailing heat in Qatar. But still, you're cold.

You turn over in your bed again, cursing nature for giving you such a painful uterus. After a few minutes, when you thought you were going back to sleep, you sat up and decided to get ready. After all, you don't really have a choice.

You put on your most comfortable clothes, grab your bag and leave your hotel room. You hurry to the paddock to hide in your driver room and be quiet.

Arriving at it, you drop onto the massage table and resume your usual position, folding in on yourself. You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing to try to ease the pain. You're so annoyed that you didn't take your medicine. You didn't expect them at all! They are a week early. At least you're sure you're not pregnant.

You begin to cry silently, an accumulation of pain, fatigue and annoyance. You rub your eyes, to the point of ruining all your makeup - which makes you cry more.

You don't stop crying when your coach walks into the room. He's probably the only one who knows about your period - he doesn't really have a choice but to know.

''Have you taken your medication?'' He asks you a little coldly. He doesn't really know how to handle this and it makes you even more uncomfortable.

''No.'' You tell him looking at the ground, too embarrassed to look at him. He huff heavily, probably from irritation. ''Can you drive? Horner is not going to be happy.''

''I can drive!'' You stand up abruptly, quickly regretting your action because of the pain. You take a deep breath and try to calm down.

''Get ready. FP1 is in less than thirty minutes.'' He tells you quickly then walks out, lightly slamming the door behind him. Does he have his period too or something?, You think, noticing his bad mood.

You get off the massage table and hurry to put on your racesuit, taking advantage of the few minutes where you feel better than the morning. You take your bottle and go to your car in the garage.

The session was horrible. You thought you were going to die in the car the whole time. You barely managed to have a 'good time'. Everyone in the garage is disappointed and you know it. But you did the best you could. They want the best, given that your teammate, Sebastian Vettel, is taking the team very high. And there is you. At least, for today. They're expecting the worst, even though it's only the start of the weekend.

You return to your driver room quickly, angry with yourself and with the others who don't understand. You lie down on the small couch and start crying again, the only thing you do when you're so sensitive.

You close your eyes and try to sleep a bit when you hear a light knock on the door. You refrain from yelling at the person to get out and don't answer, hoping that they will leave.

''I know you're here Y/n.'' Sebastian's voice echoes from the other side of the door and you feel even worse. He's probably the last person you want to see. You don't want him to see you like this. What will he think? He will probably see me as a dirty person and hate me. You think to yourself and more tears fall from your eyes.

''Can I come in?'' He asks you, while pulling the handle but not opening the door. You mumble a 'yes' and he walks into the room, finding you dying on the couch.

''You're ok?'' He asks, approaching you, arms crossed. ''Your results weren't good.'' He adds a layer while moving forward to sit on the massage table.

''I look like I'm okay!?'' You answer him aggressively, being fed up with everything and everyone.

''Wow, little Y/n show her claws?'' He teases you with a smirk.

''Shut up!'' You shout at him and you turn around then sit up to look him straight in the eyes.

''Calm down.. You're on your period or what?'' He jokes slightly but puts on a serious face when he sees your red and slightly swollen eyes. ''You know, it's not that bad what you did.'' He gets off the massage table and comes and sits next to you.

''Damn, you men!'' You look at him annoyed and he understands that that's the problem.

''I have sisters you know.'' He gets up and walks towards the door. ''I'll be back.'' He mumble then leaves without saying anything.

''You're serious!?'' You shout at him, not understanding his behavior. Is he that disgusted? That's understandable.

You immerse yourself in your pain by lying down again and curling up on yourself while sobbing. Sometimes you wish you were a man. You wouldn't have all these problems. You wouldn't be bothered by your period. You would surely be much more respected and loved in this sport..

Sebastian returns more than half an hour later. He comes in without knocking and finds you crying silently on the couch.

Without saying a word, he throws something at your back. You groan and sit up, picking up the chocolate that fell on your stomach. He takes the opportunity to sit next to you and places a hot water bottle on your knees.

''You can lie against me.'' He looks away, cheeks red as he makes himself comfortable on the couch and takes the blanket that was at the end of the couch.

A slight smile appears on your face and you fall against him, resting your head on his thighs. He puts the hot water bottle on your lower stomach and tucks the blanket around you.

''You're good?'' He runs his hand through your hair and gently massages your scalp. You answer him with a little 'mh', feeling the pain lessen, thanks to all of Seb's attention.

''I'm sorry.'' You sob softly. ''It's embarrassing.''

Seb chuckle and it sends butterflies in your stomach. ''I told you, I have sisters. I'm used to it. Don't be ashamed, sweetie'' The nickname makes you blush and you feel him press his lips against your forehead and you close your eyes, feeling much better than this morning.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 drivers #f1 x reader #fluff #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #sv5 #sv5 x reader #sv5 fluff

[notjustjavierpena]

Wake

A/N: Finally another part of my darksugardaddy!joel. This has been sitting in my WIPs for a while, and I’m so pleased with how it turned out. Be kind to me as I haven’t written in a while and I feel terrible about starving you all of content.

Summary: Joel comes home to fuck your lights out. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dub-con with non-con elements, painful and rough sex, p in v sex, choking, passing out, degradation, abusive behavior, creampie, dirty talk, no aftercare, sugar daddy, daddy kink

Word count: 2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50908876

Wake

It’s a late afternoon when you come to a realization; you don’t love Joel Miller, and you don’t think you could ever love Joel Miller. He is everything that you’ve been taught to hate if you want to believe in fairytales. Your parents would disapprove of him so immediately that you’d be terrified of them cutting you off from them if they knew of his existence.

You’ve never had a man be this rough with you, and only occasionally stroking your hair in apology afterward, but you suppose that the copious amounts of money spent on you - clothes that feel like armor around regular men and expensive bottles of wine that might as well have been potions designed to make you insane - is enough to make up for any unpleasantries within what you don’t dare call a relationship. 

You don’t love him but you can’t hate him. Not in a way that any other person would. How else would you surround yourself with pretty things? You’re no good at anything else than being what he needs.

Whenever he has had a bad day, you know the roughness will increase. It always starts the same; with a slam of the mansion door and a hungry search for you through the obnoxiously large building. He calls for you and you don’t dare not to answer, and in the end, he finds you in the extravagant living room - one of many - with its gold-rimmed glass tables and Chesterfield couches. You’ve been reading a book, but you put it down the second he enters and don’t even bother asking to read to the next full stop. 

“There you are,” he almost heaves for breath with exhaustion from his anger. He isn’t angry at you - you know this - but still, you find yourself treading lightly when his voice is so cold that the living room seems to drop a few degrees in temperature and causing your nipples to harden at the sudden change.

Then, as part of your ritual, he gets a thick wad of bills from the inside pocket of his suit and places it on the nearest surface. A bank transfer won’t do in these situations. He needs something physical, something he can hold in his hand and flash before you, and you know that he wants you to fall to your knees and beg for the warmth and dirtiness of the printed bills against your clean skin.

You’re just about to when he interrupts you.

“There will be more when you wake,” he promises, voice almost too quiet and restrained. Like he is saving his strength. 

You notice his choice of words; when you wake.

Wake.

You gulp. You’ll have to take it in stride. You’ll have to play the part.

You rise from your seat and he watches you patiently. You say nothing as you lower yourself onto the glass table and then lie down on your back, knowing it can hold because Joel would never buy a surface that he couldn’t have you on. 

You’ve learned not to wear anything too difficult to get out of, so it takes little time for you to pull off your skirt. Though you struggle a bit with your underwear since they’re already damp, sticking to the outline of your cunt and the sight makes Joel smirk like the Devil. Curse him, you think, for knowing that you can barely function when he looms over you like a giant, like a dangerous predator that hasn’t tasted blood for weeks. 

When you manage to maneuver your panties down your thighs, he twitches with impatience and curls his whole fist around the cotton fabric. He yanks them down and watches them twist into themselves as he pulls them down over the length of your legs and off your feet. 

They catch on your heels for the tiniest second. He gracefully undoes the ankle straps of them and drops each one onto the floor after taking it off. The anticipation is killing you, toying with your ability to breathe properly and even moreso at the humiliation of only wearing your top now. 

“Pull it down,” he commands, gesturing to it. You start to yank at the bottom to pull it over your head but he growls, “Down. Not off, stupid bitch.”

Oh. 

You pull the neckline down to settle it underneath your breasts, feeling like something on display with the way that Joel takes you in. His cock strains against the front of his pants, his breath uneven, when he cups both of your tits in his hands and pushes them roughly together. His thumbs skim over your hardened nipples, causing you to moan and he responds by pinching them instead until the moan transforms into a whimper.

“I’m gonna fuck you until your pretty little lights go out,” he mutters, pinches, and then tugs a bit on your nipples until you move involuntarily, “Lie still. Don’t give me any shit.”

He takes a step back, his gaze pinning you down whilst he undoes his belt. You refrain from shivering in case he tells you off once more, but you’re so close to doing it when you hear the noise of his zipper. A gush of wetness seeps from you, possibly smearing the glass surface that you are lying on. 

“Please,” you say pathetically.

“Please what?” He asks as if he doesn’t care.

“Daddy,” you present your cunt for him by opening your legs and Joel instinctively looks at your quivering slit, “Please fuck me.”

Joel steps between your legs, using his knees to push them even further apart. He towers over you, cock standing impressively into the air after he has shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs. He tuts at the desperate look in your eyes, “I barely make it through the front door before you’re spreading your legs for me.”

You want to argue that he was the one who sought you out, but he might leave you with a throbbing cunt if you have the audacity to play smart with him, so instead you just nod with a breathless ‘yes’.

He places one knee on the coffee table, following up with scooping a hand underneath the small of your back to align your lower pelvises. His grip is so strong, his bare skin, the amount you are allowed to feel, burns against your own. Like King Midas, his touch enriches you, turns you into something as valuable as gold. 

His cock breaches your tight cunt moments after. He watches you intently as your eyes screw shut with the inevitable sting that it brings due to his generous girth. He seats himself to the hilt inside of you and reaches something you didn’t even know a man could get to when he presses his hand into the spot where it rests on your back. 

“Good girl,” he praises with a strained moan, “How do you feel?”

“Full,” you say shakily and teasingly clench around him. 

He takes in a sharp breath, and before you know it, his free hand has come down on your right breast in a harsh slap. He adds to it by palming your throat afterward, tightly gripping it when you try to squeeze around his length again after not having been given time to react to the consequence of doing it the first time. You smirk up at him and he nearly loses his mind. 

“God, you just want it bad, don’t you, little girl?” His hips draw back and he keeps you waiting for the briefest second before slamming them forward again. The force behind his thrusts is borderline painful, but the way his hand arches your back makes his cockhead pound your front wall. 

The moans you let out are barely there, high-pitched or silent with the way he knocks all wind out of you whilst simultaneously cutting off oxygenated blood to your brain.

He fucks you like an animal, all groans and grunts, sweat dripping from his brow because he is too hungry for dominance to undress. He loves being able to quickly flee the scene afterward and loves leaving you with no clothes on so you cannot follow him. 

But it’s not the amount of clothes that he wears compared to you that gets you close to the edge. It is the fact that nothing around you feels real except for him. Even you don’t feel real but rather closer to an inanimate object that only comes alive because of the dark eyes that penetrate your own. 

You’ve known this fact for a while. Despite the love not being there, you know that after this arrangement has started - you don’t know what else to call it - his mere looking at you is what makes you materialize. 

Your fingers come up to curl around his wrist. You cannot breathe and it fucking hurts, only dulled by the way that your cunt starts to flutter with how close he has gotten you to the edge. You hadn’t expected him to make you come. 

With wide eyes, you look up at him in an attempt to tell him what is going on. He holds your gaze, pleased with himself as he drives into you, “I know, little girl, don’t have to tell me, I can feel you.” 

You don’t have the guts to fight his harsh hand. You take it with tears forming in your eyes and the feeling of your pulse pounding in your neck where it’s fighting to get past his bruising grip. 

“Say it, say that you love me, that you’re nothing without me,” he commands, but when you try to speak it is nothing but a squeak. He has his hand so tightly around your windpipe that you cannot get a word past your lips, drooling and shaking underneath his lack of mercy as your tongue feels too big for your mouth. He grins maniacally down at you as your vision blurs around the edges, “Made you speechless, did I? You filthy whore.”

You have always been familiar with the term putting someone’s lights out, but you’ve never understood the true meaning until Joel came into your life. You come hard, unfolding beneath his touch, with tears on your cheeks - and then there’s nothing.

Like a child falling asleep in a car seat, you have been carried up the stairs and into your bedroom. You sit up in your comfy bed and try to piece together how you have gotten here, and when you realize, it is because of your underwear and skirt messily and hurriedly sitting around your ankles. 

You tug your bottom garments up again. There is something sticky between your legs, and you know, immediately. what it is when you start to shift your legs and are hit with soreness. Everything hurts, but nothing seems to be broken or damaged. 

You glance to your right and spot the stack of bills that Joel had flashed earlier. It is neatly placed on the edge of the table along with a glass of water and some aspirin. You’ll take them soon, need to feel the ache a little while longer.

Instead of doing what is most comfortable (like taking the damn pills), you reach for the money instead. A delusional person would argue that they still feel warm, the temperature somewhere between newly printed and body heat. You take a few of them in your hand, and then you press them against your skin. The fact that you find it soothing is pathetic.

The wonder and innocence of being carried upstairs as a kid doesn’t translate into adulthood, you think, and then you lay down to fall into a deep sleep.

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #sugardaddy!joel

[ch-4-eri]

Slumber Party — Jill Valentine, Claire Redfield.

female!reader X jill & claire.

warnings: smut 18+ threesome (ish), oral, choking, cursing (a lot of it) slight bullying, idk if i miss anything let me know.

this is so random but, it is what it is.

you’d made your way into claire’s small apartment, two friends hanging out with each other, along with jill valentine.

you recently had met them both, the girls were so nice to you and welcomed you to their houses occasionally, just a fun hang out, eating and gossiping about people at work.

but what you didn’t know is how infatuated jill and claire were with you, it was a mutual obsession with you really, you were absolutely breathtaking and they both agreed on it.

but that’s not just the reason they were friends with you, not only were you beautiful, but so loyal, and a good friend anyway, it was the whole package. and the girls just fell for you even more.

jill and claire weren’t even girlfriends, they just kissed occasionally and always made gay jokes together, even in front of you, you’d laugh it off and call it a day but jill and claire meant every word when they’d compliment your clothes or your hair.

all of this was obvious now that your back was placed against claire’s chest while she hugged you on her bed from behind, your legs spread for jill.

you had no idea how you ended up in such a position, but it was one comment that made the girls just manipulate you to it, and you weren’t even mad.

claire’s hands went up your thin shirt that hugged your body so beautifully while jill undid your jeans.

“lookin’ pretty..” she whispered, chuckling. claire joined.

it felt like that moment in high school where two girls were laughing at you because they were judging you with that passive aggressive attitude, high school girl giggles, only this time it was more embarrassing and awkward than it was at school when you were laughed at for a stupid haircut that didn’t flatter your features.

your pants were completely off now that the giggles subsided, but claire and jill often laughed at something while you were in such a compromising position and it was so horrible.

“look— look at the cats..” claire giggled, grabbing jill’s attention as she threw your pants on claire’s bedroom floor, she immediately broke into laughter as your face went red at the underwear you were wearing, it was white with multiple cats on it.

to be fair you weren’t expecting this would happen.. so the choice of underwear was a little undermined.

you went to sit up but claire only grabbed your right breast and pushed you back into her chest while her and jill continued giggling. “you’re darn cute.” jill cooed, placing a hand to your thigh as she went closer to your crotch, getting a better look at your panties.

“meow.” claire mumbles which made jill laugh even louder, you were tongue tied, this was so humiliating. at best.

“oh come now, claire. she’s too red.. give her a break.” jill says, letting her hand palm at your pussy, sending your back arching, letting out an exhale.

jill’s face twisted in satisfaction, letting the heel of her palm repeat that same movement, your mind spinning as your head was thrown back into claire’s shoulder.

“you saw that? she likes it.” claire chuckled again, keeping her hand at your breast, giving it a squeeze.

“hm, i saw.” jill was so amused at your sight like this, just letting this happen, it was cute, and she wondered if you ever thought of it, since you’re so welcoming to it.

“how good do you think she tastes?” jill asks, her eyes focused on claire like you weren’t even there. “hard to say.. it could be bad… could be good.” claire teased, letting her other hand grab your other breast, squeezing you tighter as you moaned softly.

“fuck off.” jill rolled her eyes with a subtle scoff at the redhead as she dipped her head to kiss the inside of your thigh, making you twitch and squirm, both of the girls straining you into the mattress as your eyes closed in pleasure.

you were already sweating, the heat in your stomach was unbearable, your underwear so soaked. and while jill had her head buried into your thighs, claire was consoling you, watching your every arch, every breath you took and moan you let out, even the times you held your breath.

jill finally pulled your stupid kitten printed panties down your legs, watching you dripping into claire’s bedsheets.

“ah, bad girl… already ruining the sheets.” jill scolds teasingly. making claire gasp. “stupid little bitch better clean it up later.” claire giggled, wiping your forehead with a hand.

you were about to utter something as pathetic as you felt, jill moved to place herself between your legs properly, the heat of her mouth reaching your core deliciously, licking you up to get a taste before she moaned in pleasure.

“oh fuck me… she tastes amazing.” jill mumbled to claire. “you’re kidding..” claire adds, grabbing your breasts tighter.

“mmm.. so good.” jill whispered, letting her mouth engulf you as she made a noise that vibrated through you, making you let out a loud scream.

“we got a screamer here.” claire jokes, making jill laugh into your core as you close your eyes shut and let out another scream, your toes curled and inner thighs spasming.

claire continued laughing at your screams and heavy breathing, but she was so jealous she wasn’t the one tasting you..

“jill, come here.” claire suddenly announced, tugging at jill’s short hair, pulling her away from your wet pussy that was already crying for her.

she pulled away with a pop, her drool and your juices sticking to her lips and her chin. claire didn’t explain what she wanted she only grabbed jill into a kiss, her tongue swirling to get a taste of what you taste like. then pushed her back, goddamn.. jill was right, now she was even more jealous.

“what do you think?” jill chuckled as soon as they finished kissing, you watching them in the middle. “you’re a tease.” she rolled her eyes, jill pulled her hair back behind her ears and went back to the position between your legs, opening your legs for her to stick her tongue inside of you again, twitching at the sudden contact.

“can i also get a round?” claire whispered into your ear, her hands grabbing at you desperately, her voice soft and quiet only for you to hear. “please?” she begged, her lips finding your neck, biting on it.

“claire.. mmph-fuck..” you moaned, your body shaking, with claire biting on your neck and jill shoving her tongue into your gummy walls, you’re an arching moaning mess as a tear slipped down your cheek.

“moan my name again princess..” she whispered, letting her hand grab at your neck. like she was desperate for you to focus on her and ignore jill but your heart was set on both, you were dying and they were both saving you.

“claire.” you moaned, your voice choked as she squeezed your neck softly, but as claire stole your attention for now, jill hummed inside of you, making you scream once more.

“fuck you.” claire cursed at jill, it was a back and fourth between them now, whoever gets to steal your attention or your moans, until you were crying out, your tears staining your cheeks, overstimulated and fucked out dumb.

“jill— m’close..” you sob, your legs closing in on her as she kept you spread with her strong grip. at the mention of jill’s name, claire pinched your nipple, making you jump and cry out as she wrapped an arm around your torso to keep you from moving too much.

jill sucked at your clit, her tongue and nose making you so close to the edge as you wanted to focus on the feeling to grab that orgasm already but every time you did, claire would take it away from you and make you on edge every single time, you were exhausted, the knot in your lower stomach so ready to snap but you can’t get to it.

“you wanna cum, huh?” claire asked, her tone jealous and evil like she’d never let you do that, even though jill was trying her hardest to get you to cum on her tongue. “claire..please.” you moan, but as soon as you did, you grasped at it, that feeling you were chasing for the past thirty minutes now, your cum gushing down jill’s throat as she chuckled into your core, finally getting her way and not claire’s.

“i hate you both.” claire rolled her eyes as you were catching your breath, your cheeks wet.

jill licked her lips and lifted her head up, “you’re so mean.” jill spoke as she stood on her knees and watched you take your breath, wiping your cheeks with her thumbs.

“she’s so out of it.” claire mumbled, sliding a finger down the hickey she left on your neck, “it’s your fault.” jill joked, shrugging.

“you okay?” claire asked in concern, but you nodded, the feeling was so good, of course you were okay.

“nobody dies from a good orgasm.” jill reassured her, but also dressing you, rubbing your thigh in comfort as you sat up in claire’s arms.

“you did good..” claire says, the first time she was nice in this whole sitting as she kissed your forehead.

“thank you.” you finally spoke, your cheeks flushed and you weren’t vibrating. “when’s my turn?” claire asked which made both you and jill burst out into laughter, yep she’s so jealous.

#jill valentine #claire redfield #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x reader #claire redfield x reader #claire redfield x you #claire redfield smut #resident evil #resident evil smut

[cowboylor]

baby honey

pairing: austin butler x fem!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

wc: 1.4k 

warnings: smut, pwp, slight dom/sub dynamics but nothing extreme, oral (female receiving), teasing, manhandling, bad dirty talk, allusions to breeding kink, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader was written as plus size but really you can interpret however you please, austin calling reader honey is pure self-indulgence sorry

“Did you miss me?”

The question goes unanswered as you struggle to unbutton his shirt, cursing under your breath when the third button down refuses to cooperate with your shaking fingertips. Austin can’t help but grin at your blatant urgency to get him out of his clothes and through your bedroom door. 

When you finally get to the last button, you feel his hands reaching to cup your face, forcing you to look away from the task at hand. You feel warm all over when you take a moment to look into his eyes. And God, they’re so blue. Were they always this blue?

“Honey,” He speaks in a low-tone, in an endearing way that shoots right to your lower belly. “I asked, did you miss me?”

His stare, if you didn’t know better, almost looked intimidating. Austin peered down at you expectantly with those damn eyes. His hands were still holding you upright, warming your cheeks.

You nod, dumbly. “Of course, I did! Hence the ripping-off-your-clothes.”

Austin chuckles, removing his hands to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. He leans towards the shell of your ear, pressing a kiss there before murmuring, “I missed you too.”

Humming into the embrace, you relax your hands from the material of his button-down. He was home. You truly couldn’t believe it. He was finally all yours again.

“And when I saw you in this little number,” He tugs on the fabric of your sundress that tightened around your waist, before leaning over to whisper in your ear: “I wanted to bend you over and fuck you right there. Even with everyone watching.”

You’re too far gone to be embarrassed at his choice words. Whining, you inch your body closer to him until you were flushed against his chest. “Please, baby, take me to bed.”

He doesn’t waste anymore time, crouching down to throw you over his shoulder, to which you protested in a shrieking manner.

(You were slightly indifferent to the ways he would toss you in the bedroom. You were also slightly insecure about the idea that you would be too heavy for him to do so. Whenever he’d lift you off your feet and carry you to bed it made you stricken with fear. But when you mentioned this anxiety to Austin, he simply shook his head in disbelief: “You think I can’t manhandle my own girl?”)

When the back of your head hit the pillow, he was already bunching up the fabric of your sundress to your waist, gently pulling your legs apart before toying with the band of your panties. His breath wafted over you, making you tense at the subtle sensation, and moving to close your legs in hopes of the slightest friction. Austin didn’t give you the chance.

“But now,” He continued, prying your legs open, and propping one of your calves over his shoulder. “I think I want to taste you.”

You moan at the sight. Drinking in the way he gingerly presses a kiss to your calf, before trailing down your leg.

You couldn’t ever think clearly when he was between your thighs. Couldn’t formulate the sensual words your boyfriend probably wanted to hear when he was trailing gentle kisses up your inner thigh (over the bumps and all). All you can muster are high-pitched moans and shallow breaths in response to whatever you’re currently undergoing.

He hums at your breathy gasps, peering up at you through tufts of freefallen blonde hair. “You’re so pretty, honey.”

You scoff at his smug smile. “No teasing, Austin.”

“No?” He reaches your inner thigh. “Won’t even let me savor my meal?”

You desperately wish you could say something sexy back. Something that would make him shudder with the same intensity that he does to you. Maybe even something so witty and quick-witted that it would make him chuckle at your bratiness and then instantaneously flip you over on all fours to fuck your brains out. But, your body never allows you to do so when he’s so very close to your cunt.

You groan out. “Just… Need you.”

Dragging his fingertip up to your clit, you swear you’re going to collapse then and there. Austin pondered your honest words, humming as he circles your clit with the rough pad of his finger.

“Holy shit, please.”

“Yeah?” He pressed his lips against your slit in one swift motion. But he was gone again before you could properly cry out. “Need me so bad, honey?”

You nod, furiously, blindly reaching out to tug down roughly on his hair, guiding him back to you. “Can’t wait any longer. Need your mouth.”

Now, he may be a little shit sometimes, but he was always fair with you.

Before you could whine out and plead again, his tongue was lapping at your cunt. You just about shriek, instinctively moving away from the intense sensation, but before being able to do so, Austin wraps his arm around your left thigh, while keeping your right leg propped up over his shoulder.

A string of “holy shit” plays out as you grapple with the intensity of your built up need. You mewl at the sight of him wrapped over your thighs, reaching out to grab whatever you could (his sandy blonde strands fall victim to you).

“You’re sweet as honey, honey.”

His tongue is hot and wet against your cunt, as you arch your back and cry out as he nudges your clit with the tip of his nose. You make eye contact when his eyes peer up at you. There’s a glint of cockiness in his eye, knowing how quickly he can have you come undone with just his mouth. 

Your heart is stuttering at the intensity of everything, and you can only throw your head back as Austin moans at the sight of you being unable to settle. He pulls away, briefly, leaving a string of saliva in his wake while he circles his thumb around your clit.

“That’s it, honey,” Austin groans out. “Gonna let me have it?”

“Yes!” Maybe that was rhetorical but you’re too far gone to care. “Please, baby. Need you to take all of it.”

He found it endearing, groaning into you at the sight of you dripping before him and the noises you made whenever he touched you in the slightest. You are so in tune for him, so bad for him it was unbelievable.

“Gonna let me fuck this sweet pussy after?” He continues to circle your clit, his pace grower harsher in the same way that he always amps up when you’re almost over the edge. You squirm, feeling your stomach coil tighter within every second. “Gonna let me fill you up good? Want me to fuck a baby into you? Would you like that, honey?”

And that’ll do it.

Austin didn’t stray away, dipping back down to return to his lapping motion, burying his face into your cunt. His right hand held your leg in place roughly, fingernails embedding into your skin to show that he was not keen on the possibility of letting you go any time soon. 

You’re almost positive you feel every possible sensation at once. The coil inside you unravels so deeply, you’re not even sure if you’ll be able to come down from this one. You pull at his hair, almost yanking him away from your shaking thighs in an effort to come down from your high. For good measure, he presses another kiss to the inside of your calf before gently lowering your leg to rest on the comforter.

Austin crawls up the bed until he can cup your face and kiss your forehead, bringing you face to face with his glowy complexion. You spend a second regaining your breath, before burying yourself into his chest (which is only partially exposed due to the mishap of the third button). 

“You kill me,” You say defeatedly, bringing your knees to your chest, testing out how sore and strained your inner thighs feel just from one act alone. He barks out a laugh, apologetically running hand over your stomach. “I’m running out of energy for you.”

He only hums at your words, pressing another kiss to your temple before muttering, “Take a moment, honey. Afterwards I want to unzip this dress and find out how flexible you are.”

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #fanfiction #*my writing

[workingbynyx]

hello baby I love your theme !! i saw you were doing jason todd x readers so i’m gonna shoot my shot OFC NO PRESSURE

so we all know bruce is rich so jason must be as well but WHAT IF reader also came from a rich powerful family of Gotham, I think they would maybe meet through a gala or something and Dick would joke to Jason about how he is drooling at the sight of reader IDK BABES IT’S UP TO YOU, i hope it inspires you <3

City of Stars — Jason Todd x F!Reader

↷ summary — what happens if one of the bat sons meet the striking heiress of another powerful family? ˎˊ˗

↷ pairing — jason todd x f!reader ˎˊ˗

↷ genre — romance, fluff, slight comedy and eventual angst ˎˊ˗

↷ warning/s — a few curse words here and there ˎˊ˗

↷ a/n — hey!! tysm for this prompt oml its the cutest, and ik its a bit of a cliché but reader is an heiress to stark industries here 😭 i figured it would be interesting since, contrary to popular belief, tony and bruce wouldn't get along so it offers the question what would happen if their children got together (tea 👀🍵) this isn't based on anything btw! so there might be some ooc instances. OH AND I'll probably make a part 2 of this soon if i get motivationekehwjd soooo i hope you enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗

— wayne manor, present day

bruce fixed yet another gala for the year, inviting multiple billionare ceos and business owners to the humble party. gotham city strived under the great care of his trusted partners even when crime and corruption still runs in the city. the bat took care of that of course, with the help of his sons and daughters who also attended the event in simple dresses and suits and ties tailored to their liking.

the gala had been going on for a few hours or so which eventually became boring enough for jason to take a few shots and drinks by the bar as he scanned the crowd with people in bejeweled clothes and shimmering jewelry that blinded him as the chandelier shined on them. "is all that really neccessary.." he mumbled to himself, taking a sip of his 3rd drink of the night. "yes it is, would you rather people come into sweats like you would?" dick suddenly chimed in as he walked up towards jason and leaned against the counter of the bar, asking for a drink of his choice.

"It wouldn't hurt to try next year" jason said with a stern look on his face, occassionally shooting up a short smile to people walking by. "if bruce allows it, i doubt he would. the man practically lives in a suit and tie" dick replied, "well, tough shit grayson. you might be forgetting being the rebel is sort of my thing" jason shot back with a smirk. "ah, my bad" grayson said with a chuckle as he sipped on champagne. "so, anyone caught your eye yet?" "If you mean spoiled little kids running around with chocolate smeared on their faces then yeah" jason sighed while dick suppressed a laugh. "c'mon man, there's at least gotta be someone" "dick, i didn't come here to look for 'someone' nor do i ever plan to"

and right when jason uttered those words with no remorse, he immediately swallowed them right back when he caught a glimpse of you in the crowd. the dark yellow dress you wore complimenting the red of his suit, its like a match made in gotham, as one would say. the man had to double take in your way when you slowly walked through the room with your father, tony stark. the man behind stark industries, one of the richest companies based in new york. jason knew they recently opened a branch within the city to make way for new advanced technology and scientific engineering. that was probably the reason why you're here from jason's assumption.

"i'd say otherwise" dick snuck up beside jason and whispered to taunt him, his eyes following the lady that caught his brother's attention. "..what?" the other finally said, snapping out of it. "you should go up to her instead of drooling over here, you look like a total loser dude" dick patted his shoulder which annoyed jason. "cut it out dick, i'm not going up to her" "why not?" "i have other things to tend to" "like?" "...shut up" "jason, this is your only shot. are you gonna waste it on brooding the whole night?" "i'm NOT taking any of your dating advice" "i didn't say you have to date her dipshit, what could a friendly conversation lead to?" "a can of worms, go figure" jason then started walking away from dick as soon as he sets the glass down on the counter.

"jay c'mon," dick caught up to him which released a frustrated groan from jason. "she seems like a nice woman" "you're really living up to your name right now, stop it" jason said through gritted teeth.

in other people's point of view, it looks like two grown men are silently arguing in the corner of the big hall which then caught your attention soon after. you wanted to get to know bruce's children after he warmly welcomed you and your family to gotham before they got down to talking business, it obviously lost your interest so you quietly excused yourself from the conversation to wander the mansion.

you stumbled upon one of his daughters and had a nice conversation, they didn't seem intimidating as they said they'd be— not until you went up to his sons. you mentally prepared yourself as you slowly walked over to the duo, straightening the slight wrinkles on your dress and patting down your necklace.

"uhm, hello there. i hope i'm not interrupting" you called out to them which caught their attention. dick and jason quickly arranged themselves to look presentable, even if they were just arguing seconds ago. "hey" jason said as he cleared his throat, to which you replied with a smile. "its a wonderful party, i see mr. wayne has good taste" you tried to sound polite as possible...was it even worth trying?

"yeah, definitely" dick nodded his head. "i'm richard by the way, richard grayson. but you can call me dick" "oh uhm, pardon?" "it's unusual, i know. but trust me its fine" you couldn't help but slightly giggle at his statement, he was quite the charm. jason, on the other hand, couldn't stand seeing the two of you almost get along. he had to do something if he wanted to win you over.

you then looked over to him in anticipation, "jason" he says. "jason todd" he added. "it's nice meeting you, i've heard..interesting things about you" you said as you reached out your hand for a shake as he returned the gesture. "mhm, that's..great i guess" he nodded. "well uhm, i just wanted to come over and say hi. if our dads are gonna work together i should probably get to know his children too as a courtesy" you said with a smile, talking to bruce's oldest sons was quite nerve wrecking to say the least. they were tall, fit, sharp and certainly attractive, they're also intelligent one might add.

"huh" jason blurted out. "i didn't know bruce and mr. stark had to work together" he said. "oh, mr. wayne didn't mention anything?" "he never does" he replied. "hmm, that's a bit odd.." "trust me, everything's odd when you're around him" you couldn't help but chuckle which took jason back a bit, seeing you find his 'joke' funny enough. it was...adorable.

"i'll take your word for it, jason" hearing you say his name was like hearing angels sing to him. he didn't even realize he was developing a crush on someone he just met at a random gala, that never happened before. it must be something about you that attracted jason a lot.

"oh and, do you know where to get some fresh air? all this business talk has been making me ill for the past hour" you asked, a bit embarrassed to say it in front of them. but they seem to get your pain. "I'll let my brother show you, he knows this place a lot more than i do" "wh— you literally live here" jason whispered loudly. "i'll see you around ms. stark, i look forward to working with you soon" and just like that, dick had left you and jason alone.

your eyes followed dick as he walked back into the crowd until he was no longer seen, your gaze returning back to jason who was just staring at you unconsciously. at some point, you found yourself admiring his features for a moment. his eyes that shined against the light, his ruffled hair that sat prettily on his forehead, and his prominent jawline. 'he's cute...i guess' you thought to yourself, not until he cleared his throat when the silence got too loud.

"sooo, shall i show you around or are you gonna keep staring at me?" he said which made you lift a brow. "staring at yo— weren't you the one staring at me first?" you argued, making jason laugh at your protest. "relax, i was kidding" he added, flicking his head towards the staircase for you to follow him. "y'know, for a sec i thought you were a royal of some sort" jason started as the both of you went up. "how so?" you asked. "i don't know, you look all elegant and..the way you speak" you chuckled at his remark. "should i be flattered or is that a bad thing?" "not at all" jason said, a short smile forming. "well, that's what my mother taught me. she didn't want me to be a 'smartmouth' like my dad. he's probably annoying mr. wayne by now because of it" "bruce has already been around smartmouths enough," he turned towards you, "exhibit a" then gestures to himself.

you couldn't help but chuckle at jason. "is that so?" you asked with an exaggerated tone. "i didn't take you for a smartmouth if i'm being honest, more quite the opposite really" "well you might've if we met under different circumstances" "maybe, maybe not" you looked up to him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, a slight smirk forming on his face.

as the two of you walk through the empty halls of the mansion, you both reach the huge balcony where the doors are wide open. the cold breeze seeping through the curtains which sent shivers down your spine. you tried to fight the chills around your skin, but it was evident to jason you were clearly freezing. he unbuttoned his blazer and wrapped it around your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze when you thanked him. "ahh, this is nice" you exhaled, relief washing over you when the distinct conversations are finally blocked. you stared into the dimmed city lights of gotham, poorly glistening from where you stood.

"it kinda is" jason added, his hands now both in his pockets as he admired the view...and you.

the longer you stared, the longer a thought began lingering. you cracked your head to the side to look at jason standing behind you, ushering him to come forward. "so uh, how long have you been here?" you started. "since birth, i'm pretty much stuck here" jason answered as he leaned against the railings. "but either way, gotham is my home afterall. i don't think i'll ever have the chance to leave this behind, even if i wanted to" there was a bit of sentiment behind his words, but you understood him. you were also pretty much stuck in one place before your father finally agreed to take you elsewhere, to finally let you handle things your own way when you came of age.

he was always protective over you which partially hindered you from living up to your true potential, but now that he's giving you a part of his legacy you have the chance to prove yourself.

"how was it like? y'know, growing up in a city like this" you followed up. "nothing to sugarcoat i'll tell you that, but uh...that's probably a story for another day" jason says, a quick glance to your direction. "another day?" "yeah another day" he said, studying your reaction. his eyes gleamed with hope, hoping that you'd understand where he's getting at. "are– are you saying—" "yes, ms. stark. i, jason todd, am hoping to see you another day"

your cheeks flushed pink, the heartfelt conversation suddenly turning into whatever this was. it was a pleasant surprise. "i— well, i don't see why i'd say no to that offer" you said with the brightest smile on your face. jason contained a smile however, letting his head fall down between his arms while he sighed in relief. that could've gone the wrong way. he tapped against the stone railing and brought his head back up, his cheeks also dusted pink. "a'ight so, when can i see you then?" he raised a brow.

"i'm in the city for the next few weeks, come visit at the flat two blocks away from the stark industries site. i'm at the third floor, second door to your right" jason took note of that mentally, making sure he got every detail down. "right," he nodded. "uhhh, how do they say this�� so it's..a date?"

"it's a date, mr. todd"

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x f!reader #✎ ─ nyx fics ! #dceu

[boba-beom]

angst and smut thought

rebound!taehyun x reader

your ex is beomgyu and you want to get over him, he seems to have moved on from you already but you just want to forget about him so bad. here comes taehyun who you know is so head over heels for you and is willing to do anything, even if that’s to become your rebound.

one day you see beomgyu live, doing his own thing and he looks happier. your heart aches because you know he doesn’t think about you anymore, but only views you as a friend. his feelings have detached from you ages ago.

wanting to forget about beomgyu so bad and to just feel something, you call taehyun over and of course he doesn’t say no. when he comes over he’s sitting on the edge of your bed, wanting to ask if you’re okay, treading on eggshells around you but you fall to your knees in front of him, hastily lifting his hoodie, fingers quick to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans but taehyun stops you for a second, holding your shoulders so you look up at him.

“wait, are you sure you want to do this?” his eyes full of worry but he just needs to hear your confirmation and he’ll let you continue.

“taehyun please.” you plead, eyes tearing up from frustration, annoyed at yourself, at beomgyu and feeling sorry for using taehyun like this.

“but, you’re not over beomgyu…” his voice gentle, and his thumbs have started to rub on your shoulders gently.

“I will be if you fuck me. please.” your words croak out of your throat in desperation.

taehyun sighs, before nodding and and letting go of your shoulders. watching you resume undoing his pants, hooking your fingers and pulling the denim and cotton of his boxers down to his ankles.

as fucked up as the situation is, his dick’s already half hard from the view of you teary eyed on your knees. you immediately fist his dick, getting him harder before you take him into your mouth. wet, warm and salty, heavy on your tongue as you swirl your tongue around the tip when you come up. that’s how beomgyu liked it. and it seemed taehyun did too from the sinful sounds coming out of your friend’s mouth.

your tears running hot down your cheeks as you have your eyes shut, taking more of taehyun into your mouth until you’re deepthroating him. he was a little girthier than beomgyu, struggling slightly as your throat swallows and squeezes the head of his dick, and you hear a pretty whine from taehyun.

perhaps taehyun was the best choice to help you forget about beomgyu. you’re doing so well, sucking his cock so good you already feel him twitching on your tongue that his head is lolling back, eyes clenching shut while his mouth hangs open, whine after moan after curse.

you take him out of your mouth, slowly pumping along his length as you look up to make eye contact with the man above you. his eyes scan your face, flushed expression with tear stains down your cheeks. he could cum just from the view of his dick in your fist, the corners of your mouth dribbling a mix of his precum and your saliva.

you stand, stripping of your clothes and laying on the space beside him with your legs spread.

“taehyun, fuck me.” you whisper to him, but he heard it loud and clear, along with his heart pounding in his ears.

he takes his hoodie off, it was a grey one just like how beomgyu had a wide collection of grey hoodies. your heart sinks in your chest, not wanting to forget about the little things, but you need to.

taehyun kneels between your legs, his hands skimming up and down the skin of your thighs and bare stomach.

“wanna make you feel so beautiful, ___.” he sighs, enamoured with how someone could ever leave someone as beautiful as you.

“tae…” you wince as you pull him have him hovering over you, using his elbows to support him.

you feel his tip prodding at your entrance, gasping once he sheaths himself inside your aching cunt. you miss beomgyu. fuck, why does he always have to be on your mind.

taehyun stills as he bottoms out, burying his face in your neck and experimented with a single kiss on the side of your neck, testing out the waters to see how you’d react. it felt like fire against your skin, burning and you let him, humming a quiet hum indicating him he was okay to do that.

and so he does. gentle short pecks turning into open mouthed kisses and light sucking across your chest and shoulders. though your mind was still trying to focus on the fact it isn’t beomgyu fucking you, taehyun’s taking it all in. he’s waited so long to make you feel good, to worship your body and decorate you in his marks.

a subtle but sweet moan leaves your lips and it managed to make taehyun buck his hips into involuntarily as he whispers a, “sorry.” against your skin.

“do it again. harder.” your words get shorter and shorter throughout, but taehyun gets it. he stops, looking at you for any doubts in your face.

“are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” his asks sincerely, a hand on your waist and squeezing it tenderly.

“I’m already hurt taehyun, please, just help me forget about beomgyu.” you hold back a sob, tears filling up to the brim again.

you throw your head back once taehyun pulls out until half way and slams back into you, not even making his pace gradual, his hips pistons repeatedly while you manage to let out more moans laced with a couple of shallow sobs.

taehyun’s leaning against your body now, the weight of him warm against your chest as he continues to snap his hips into yours. his head hangs low next to your face. though he’s here rearranging your guts, his heart still aches knowing your mind is still on beomgyu.

his grunts by your ear turned to shaky sighs as he was nearing his orgasm, and so were you. you did have to give credit to taehyun for letting him fuck you, and thinking even just giving him the littlest ounce of affect back would push him over the edge.

your hands sprawl on his back, rubbing tenderly over the ridges of his back muscles and the movement of his shoulder blades until you claw his skin as soon as you felt like you were about to come.

“tae, I want you to cum inside me.” you whispered by his ear.

and that’s all it took for him to slow down his pace with shallow thrusts, feeling his cock pumping out ribbons of his cum inside you. you’re both moaning at the sensation, his warm seed filling you to the brim and your gummy walls contracting around his length.

once he finally stills, he balances on his elbows again, pushing your hair out of your face and resting his palm on your neck.

“if you ever want to forget about him, just use me. okay?” his eyes twinkle at you, and you feel awful but the sex was too good to let it be a one time thing.

you nod slowly, sighing as you attempt a small smile.

“thank you tae. what would I do without you.”

-‘๑’-

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

#okay so I got carried away #idk where this even came from #sorry I was procrastinating in writing the actual fic for gyu’s bday bc it’s longer #it will be a late upload 😭 #mdni #smiles hard hours #taehyun smut #taehyun hard hours #taehyun hard thoughts #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun x reader #txt x reader #taehyun angst #txt angst #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt imagines #txt scenarios #smiles writes ౨ৎ