#god my stomach hurts just thinking about the scene

[chelleztjs18]

The Scene (E.O)

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!ActressReader ; Rachel McAdams, Benedict Cumberbatch (Platonic)

Summary: Something unexpected happened while you were filming a movie with Lizzie which leads more things out of it.

Warning: None. Just some fluff.

A/n: Hello! I'm back. This fic is from two request that I combined together. This is a made up Kamar Taj scene is being filmed with Rachel McAdams and Benedict Cumberbatch in it. I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies in the scene and golden globes part. Happy reading!

Here are the requests for this fic:

Main Masterlist

What’s better than playing a superhero role in the movie industry? Well, nothing can top the joy and the fun of filming in one of the Marvel movies with your beloved wife, Elizabeth Olsen. You and Lizzie have been married for five months now. It was a very small intimate wedding with family and close friends, just like how you and Lizzie wanted. There was no media nor paparazzi craziness. Both of you try to keep your relationships for two years and the wedding under the radar to enjoy and cherish each other more privately in between busy schedules.

“You did a great job, Lizzie. I can’t believe that you did that scene in one shot. That was pretty hard to do with all the wires and stuff.” Benedict compliments her as he takes a seat next to her, taking a break.

“Aww thanks, Ben. I was actually nervous. You know me with heights, never a fan of it.” Lizzie lets out her little laugh.

“Oh yeah, I see what you mean. They pull you up pretty high.I bet it can be uncomfortable sometimes, especially with your Scarlet Witch costume right now.” The Wizard cast responds.

“Sometimes but I love this costume. So, I won’t complain.” She laughs again after trying to let out a joke.

Lizzie and Benedict have a great time talking for a little while until she sees something that makes her stomach turn. Anger thundered through her. Her heart aches and she crumbles inside. All emotions mix up in a split second. Lizzie stands up furiously. She can’t believe what she just saw. Seeing Rachel kiss your lips and you don’t even do anything to avoid it, makes her want to get to you right away.

“Liz? Are you okay?” The British man asks confusedly after taking notice of Lizzie's displeased facial expression.

“Yeah. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” That was all Lizzie said shortly before she rushed her steps with her full Wanda’s costume and barged into the set where you and Rachel are.

“What’s going on here?” Lizzie asks in such anger. You and Rachel look at Lizzie in surprise that neither of you say anything for a few seconds.

The silence from the both of you upset Lizzie even more. Her glossy hurtful eyes look at you in disappointment as she continues telling you how she feels in gritted teeth slowly walking closer to you and Rachel. “After everything we’ve been through, this is what I get in return? Was it a game for you? And to think I would go through the ends of the world for you. Just explain to me why?!” she demands. Her voice gets shaky.

Rachel slowly moves to get to behind you, trying not to get involved between you and Lizzie. Noticing what Rachel is doing, you naturally take a stand in front of her. You were about to tackle everything she said but she didn’t let you. “How could you do this to me?” She added as she spread her palms then clenched them to fists with fury.

Then all of sudden, a familiar voice struck Lizzie’s attention. “Cut! That surprisingly fits perfectly!”

Lizzie quickly turns her head to where the voice came from. She came to realize what was actually going on. She looks at you, Rachel and surroundings. The filming crews are looking at the three of you. Sam, the director smiles satisfiedly.

Her cheeks slowly turn crimson. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I–I–I didn’t know that you were filming a scene. Oh my gosh.” She covers her face with her hands for a few seconds and then uncover it. She tries to laugh her embarrassment off. Her cheeks feel warmer from blushing.

“It’s okay but yes, love. I was filming a scene with Rachel.” You replied.

“I’m sorry, Lizzie. It was totally a professional kiss.” Rachel explains in a light joking tone to make your wife feel better.

“No. No, you are totally fine. I’m sorry. I-I just didn’t know that there’s a kissing scene.” Everybody in the room heard what she just said in awe.

“Yes, babe. I told you about it the other night, remember?” you explain yourself as you grab both of her hands to give her the reassurance and comfort she needs. Lizzie tries to recall. “Oooohh yeah. Gosh, I was probably distracted when I was cooking dinner. So embarass–”

You and Lizzie notice that Sam came to talk.

“I’m so sorry, Sam. I totally forgot that there was a kissing scene and I got—” Lizzie awkwardly apologizes but Sam finishes her sentence.

“Jealous? First of all, it was cute. Second of all, it was a brilliant spontaneous scene! I love it. You should see your facial expression on the whole thing.”

“Oh yeah, I could see that, Sam. I thought the Scarlet Witch existed for real for that whole minute.” you joke more as you gently squeeze her hand as your way to let her know that you are with her to comfort her.

“Yeah, but I apologize for ruining the scene.”

“Oh no, you didn’t at all, Lizzie. As a matter of fact, I will change the script and we will use it in the movie. We just need to add some visual effects in it and it’s good to go.” Sam lays out his idea and plan in a thrill.

Hearing his plan, Lizzie’s face slowly shows some relief. “Oh, uh– wow. Okay.” The four of you laugh. “Okay, then. Let’s take a lunch break and we’ll continue in an hour?” Sam announced.

Everybody walks away to take their break but you grab Lizzie’s hand before she turns around. “Feel better, babe?” you try to make sure.

“It was so embarrassing but yes, I feel better.” She smiles then laughs.

“No, I meant that the kiss was just one of the scenes.”

“Uh-y-yes.” She admits and covers her face once again. You pull her hands away and look at her lovingly.

“I would never do that to you nor hurt you like that. I’m all yours I love you.” You kiss her forehead then look at her again.

“Aw. I love you too, y/n. Thank you.”

“You were cute and sexy at the same time when you get jealous though.” You tease her and both of you laugh.

“Oh yeah? Well, you better watch out.” She teases you back.

“Oh, really?” your lips form a teasing smirk. She playfully hits your arm and rolls her eyes.

“You are silly. Let’s go have lunch babe. I’m hungry after all that jealousy I felt.” she grabs your hand and walks with you.

“You are cute.” you follow where Lizzie leads you.

_____

It has been two weeks since the latest Marvel movie came out. It was a hit. People love you and Lizzie in it. You are happy with how positive the public's reaction was. There was a rumor going around that Lizzie improvised on the jealous Scarlet Witch scene after your character kisses Rachel’s. Neither you, Lizzie nor other casts know how the words spread. Lizzie is happy with the fact that people love your acting in the movies. That’s all that matters to her.

Today, you, Lizzie, Rachel and Benedict are invited to the Jimmy Fallon show to talk about the viral movie. Before you got to the location, both you and Lizzie had a talk and decided to be ready if Jimmy asked about your love life. You both think it’s time to let the cats out of the bag about your relationship.

“Welcome everybody! Wow, I feel so safe right now with some of the Marvel superheroes around us.” said the host followed by the cheer and applause from the thrilled audiences.

“Thank you for having us, Jimmy. So good to be back here.” Lizzie expresses her gratitude from where she sits next to the beautiful older actress, Rachel. You adore her beauty from the seat across from her as the dark haired actor next to you chimes in.

Everything went well and it was really fun for everybody. All the casts get their questions.The studio is filled with laughter and excitement.

“Okay, Y/n Y/LN. It’s your turn right now for questions.” Jimmy slightly turns his head to you.

“Oh lord.” you joke as you pretend to look nervous. The audiences and Jimmy laugh at your antics. “I love your character. You have a cool super power in it and as you know a lot of fans are simping your character with the one and only Scarlet Witch.” The crowd can’t hold back themselves with such thrill as soon as Jimmy mentioned the both of you.

You hear Lizzie’s lovely laugh and you glanced at her to see her smile.

“Ah yes, yes. I heard about it.” you respond as you shift the way you sit a little and smile.

“Let’s just go straight to everybody’s favorite scene after you kiss Rachel’s character.” Benedict and Rachel playfully do a hand gesture as if they are locking their mouth. Rachel even throws the imaginary key of the lock to you.

“What? What is it? Are we missing something?” puzzled with what he just saw, Jimmy asked. His gaze bouncing back and forth between the four of you.

“Oh no. Nothing. Nothing.” Benedict denies the question and laughs. Jimmy then looks at Rachel, hoping he will get an answer and Rachel pretends jokingly to look around with a smile.

“Ah, I see. We’ll get back to you two later.” Jimmy adds.

“So, back to you, Y/n.” Jimmy looks at you and with that he interviews you some questions regarding the movie. Three questions and some jokes later, you thought he was done asking you but you were wrong.

“As the newcomer in MCU, fans are dying to know about your current love —” Jimmy was interrupted by the cheering women fans in the studio. He smiles as he slightly lifts up his hand asking for some silence to continue.

You laugh as your cheek blush and you tap your hands gently multiple times on your thighs nervously. You and Lizzie knew sooner or later that this question would come.

“Are you seeing someone now?”

“As in dating or hallucinating?” Once more you joke around and everybody instantly laughs.

“Good one. Good one. Nice try on stalling to answer the question.” Jimmy responds humorously in between laughs.

You sneaked another quick glance to Lizzie then looked at Jimmy. “Well, I’m taken, married actually.” you finally answered and you subtly show the wedding ring on your ring finger and awkwardly laugh.

“Wait.. Wait.. Wait.. What?? When did this all happen? Last time you were here, you were single.” Jimmy exclaimed.

“Yes I was but now I’m happily married.” The audiences are in awe with your answer.

“Okay, okay. Congratulations! Wow. What an exciting surprise. Is your husband from the movie industry as well?” Jimmy asks curiously.

“Wife.” You corrected it with an excited smile. Surely, Jimmy looks surprised yet excited for you. A huge cloud of curiosity flows over Jimmy and all of the audiences instantly.

“Awww! Who is this lucky woman?” Jimmy asks and shortly after people start to chant “Who is she? Who is she?”

The four of you laugh. Rachel and Benedict try to keep their expression that they know the truth. Nobody notices that Lizzie looks at you and gives you a subtle small wink and you take that as your cue that it’s time to let people know.

“Okay. Okay. My wife is a very lovely woman. She is the sweetest so I’m the lucky one. We have been friends since the first time I came to this industry. She helps me and teaches what she knows in acting.”

“Oh?! So she is an actress?” Jimmy tries harder to dig more.

“Yes she is. Lizzie and I have been married for five months now.” In a split second, everybody in their seats cheers, applauses and goes crazy.

“Oh my god! I knew it! I knew it!” Jimmy exclaimed with a huge smile, raising his fists as if he just won a jackpot.

A few minutes later silence slowly covers up the cheerings.

“Okay, since the tea has been spilled, Lizzie, let’s switch seats so you can sit next to your wife.” Benedict stands up and gives up his seat to Lizzie. Everybody looks at you and Lizzie in awe as soon as she sits next to you and holds your hands.

Jimmy quickly connects the dots and asks one unexpected question.

“Wait, so does it mean that the improvised jealous Scarlet Witch was actually real?” An image of the scene shows up on the giant screen as Jimmy’s hand points at it. “I meant Wanda’s expression looks so real that I can even feel it when I watch it. Were you really jealous, Elizabeth?” he continues.

“Uh oh.” Benedict's short remark lures some laugh from you and Lizzie.

“Tell him, Lizzie.” Rachel joins in jokingly.

Lizzie laughs awkwardly, blush creeps up on her cheeks. “Oh my gosh. This was embarrassing. So, in my defense, I didn’t know— well actually I forgot that there was a kissing scene between Y/n and Rachel. I was just taking a break and chilling with Benedict then I saw them kissing, I didn’t know they were filming. So yeah and then that happened. Eeeeend scene.” Lizzie explained.

Jimmy lets out a pretend gasp and looks at Benedicts. “Why didn’t you stop her?” Everybody laughs.

“Oh I was just so puzzled because she just suddenly stood up, excused herself and told me she would be right back. I tried to stop her, I wish I had the time stone with me at that time.” The  dark haired man responded with some laughs.

“Rachel, you were hiding behind Y/n’s back.” Jimmy examines the giant picture.

“Yes, yes I was. To be honest, I was so bamboozled and my mind tried to think if Lizzie was really mad with me because I don’t want her to be mad at me or if it was just Wanda’s part in the scene. My mind starts to question in those short minutes if Wanda will push me with her wiggly woo in it because I have all the wire around me and I wasn’t ready if they were gonna do a sudden pull on me with them.” Rachel smiles at Lizzie and you.

Jimmy nods at Rachel’s answer then looks at you. “I was as confused as Rachel was but I tried to calm her down because I knew it was all a misunderstanding. Lizzie never really shows jealousy but I’m not gonna lie she actually looked so cute and adorable.”  You look at her in adoration and rub your thumb in the back of her hand. Lizzie gives you a smile back.

“Wow, I never knew behind that iconic scene was actually a funny moment. So Sam, the director, decided to use that scene for the movie?” Jimmy lets out his thoughts.

“Yes, he did.” Another shy laugh followed Lizzie’s answer. With that, the show continues with a little more questions and everything goes well.

You and Lizzie are happy with people’s positive reaction at the show about your relationship until some comments you read on social media a few days after.

_____

You and Lizzie are having a relaxing week before the Golden Globe award event this weekend. You are sitting in the backyard scrolling on the internet while Lizzie is doing her gardening vlog.

“Hi babe. What you doin’ there?” Lizzie asks as she grabs a glass of iced tea you made for her and sits next to you once she is done with her plants.

“Oh nothing. Jimmy’s show that we were in is up on the channel and internet. So I was just reading people’s comments.” you answer while your gaze is glued to the screen of your tablet.

“Oh? I hope they are all good comments?” she responds after a sip. “Hm yeah, they are.” you mindlessly answer but she notices your facial expression. You squint a little as you read more. Your eyebrow knitting together and your lips pressing in a straight line without even realizing it.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Lizzie’s tone sounds a little concerned.

“Ah nothing to be worried about, Liz. Some people are just funny with their comments and really need to find something else to do.” your hand did an air quote on the word funny and you laughed.

“What did you mean? What comment? Let me see.” Lizzie's curiosity takes over and she opens her palm, waiting for you to hand her the tablet.

“Just promise me, don’t worry about the comments and ignore them, okay, love. They really don’t bother me.” you subtly demand shortly before you let her read them.

“I can’t believe that Lizzie married Y/n Y/L/N. I hope it was just a lie.”

“Y/n is a new actress, she probably just wanted fame from being with Lizzie.”

“I think this whole thing was a skit to gain more fans attention, she probably lied about being married to Lizzie.”

“Even though IF it was true that they are married, she just uses Lizzie as her ride to fame. I’m sure as soon as she gets enough fame or movies, Y/n will leave her.”

The more she reads the comments, the more upset she looks. “I’m not happy with this, Y/n. We gotta do something about this.”

“No, I don’t think we have to do anything about it. I’m sure the comments will soon be old news and people will forget about it. I don’t really care what people say about me, Lizzie.” you express your point of view.

“I do. I will do something about it.”

“Wait, what are you going to do?”

“We’ll see. Don’t worry, darling. Everything is under control.” She kisses your cheeks and smiles, not giving you any clue what’s on her mind. You try to shrug it off and not to worry about it.

Few days later, there are more comments, both positive and negative about you and Lizzie’s. There are even videos in the media from the influencers or fans talking about them and going viral.

_____

Today is the Golden Globe award day. It’s the first big event since you got married. After hours of getting ready, you and Lizzie finally arrived at the venue. As soon as both of you got out of the car and walked to the red carpet spot, fans went all hyped up and so did the paparazzi and the media. You and Lizzie sometimes stop to sign some autographs.

You hear a bunch of voices calling Lizzie’s and your name. It’s your and Lizzie’s turn to be on the red carpet, camera flashes start to show up from every direction. Lizzie holds your hand as she poses with a smile and her eyes look at the camera.

The photographers caught some cute moments of you and Lizzie smiling at each other with the look of love.

Suddenly, Lizzie pulls you closer to her and kisses you on the lips to show the world how much she loves you and how happily married she is to you. She wanted to show all the internet trolls who said bad things about you to just mind their own business.

After the kiss, Lizzie smiles and says “I love you.” and without a doubt you say it back to her and it all caught on camera.

At the end of the red carpet, Lavern Cox is already waiting for you two to come and interview you.

“Oh my god, here comes the newlywed. One of the IT couples. Hi you guys. Both of you look amazing tonight!” She greets you and Lizzie.

“Hello, Lavern. Thank you. So glad to see you again.” you replied after you and Lizzie gave her friendly kiss on the cheeks.

“Me too, Y/n! Congratulations on the wedding! You both make a perfect couple and Lizzie, that kiss just now, I was in awe when I saw it. That was a pretty strong statement you made after things went viral about you two.” Lavern said shortly before she directed her microphone to Lizzie and you to respond.

You start with an awkward laugh. “I really didn’t expect the kiss, Lizzie always surprises me with her lovely and sweet gesture. I really appreciate her ways of showing her love and I’m really proud to show up as her wife tonight.” You can’t hold back a smile as soon as you are done saying your part and Lizzie takes her turn. Lizzie’s eyes are drinking the view of your smile in awe.

“Nice to see you again, Lavern. Thank you. It’s always nice to see our friends here and I think tonight is the perfect time for us to openly come out as being married to each other. I thank all the fans for their support and I would also like to tell some of the people who spread bad words or lies about Y/n to just leave her alone. We are happily married, we love each other sincerely. Y/n has been a great partner for me and she loves me for who I am. She could be famous even without me because she is a very talented actress and amazing person.” Her gentle smile looks totally opposite from her subtle firm tone as she expresses her thoughts towards the end of her statement.

“I couldn’t agree more with you, Lizzie. Wow, I love you so much for standing up for Y/n.” Lavern compliments her and continues with a few more questions about the outfits you and Lizzie wear tonight before the usher leads the two of you to the ballroom.

After having a little small talk with the others on the table, you gently hold Lizzie’s hand under the table and whisper to her “Thank you so much for standing up for me. I’m so lucky to have you.”

Lizzie’s gaze gently locks on yours and she replies with a loving smile. “Of course, babe. Like I said, everything is under control.” she gives you a quick peck on your lips then tonight’s host starts the event.

Everybody had a great time. At the end of the night, the crowd cheers even more positively as you and Lizzie walk out.

A/n: Welp, that's all from me for today, peeps! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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[lexisecretaccx]

Good little Girl - Matt Sturniolo

(Fem reader x Matt Sturniolo, smutty, use of nicknames, suggestive, kissing, oral fem!receiving, Dom!Matt, idk)

Summary: reader and Matt just hooked up but he doesn’t want it to be just a one time thing and she learns a secret about him…

I stand off the bed and start to get back into my outfit, my mini skirt and tight shirt. “What are you doing?” He groans as he leans up on his elbows. I turn to him now standing just in my underwear, “I’m leaving, isn’t that what you do on a one night stand?” I ask continuing to pull up my skirt, he gets out of bed and walks towards me.

He grabs my hand that is pulling up my skirt and pulls into his chest, “I don’t want you to leave.” He spoke hardly and spun me around to face him, his hands trail down my shoulders, arms and onto my waist.

“But why..” his hand comes up and tugs on my bottom lip, he pulls me in closer, “please.. be a good girl.” He spoke softly in a tone that caused butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

“Okay.” I say quietly, and step out of the skirt I was previously putting on. He keeps my hand held and pulls me back to the bed “I can’t do it again, it was amazing but I’m all fucked out right now..” I breathe out as we sit on the bed, “no.. I want to lay with you.” He spoke as he pulled me on top of him to straddle him, his hand comes up the the side of my face.

“Did you think I only wanted to fuck you and never see you again?” He asks me his hands rest on my hips, I shrug. “You have security guards in your house and you live in a mansion.. I thought you’d only want a one night stand.” I say and I lay down on top of him, getting into a comfortable.

“Im sorry I gave you that impression, I’m not all bad.” His hand finds place on the back of my head. “What do you do.. for work? Because at the party you had a bodyguard looking guy next to you.” I ask as I pull the covers over me and him.

He sighs, “I can’t tell you that sweetheart.” I move off of him and look at him, “why not?” I say in an annoyed tone. “Fine.. but please be a good girl and listen to what I say, don’t be scared.” He sits up before pulling my face in and gently kissing my lips, “okay.” I nod.

“I’m not a good person, I hurt people.. not you of course but people who deserve it.” He breathes in, studying my face for my response. “What do you mean? You seem like a good guy to me.” I tilt my head at him. He chuckles, “I’m a good guy to you.. I wouldn’t hurt you but other people deserve it.” I watch his composure shift to that of nervousness.

“What other people?” I continue to question him. “People who owe me things.. and people who hurt my loved ones.” He studied my face for any sense of fear, instead my eyes widen in excitement.

“So you’re like a loan shark?” I speak excitedly, loving the rush of hooking up with someone with such authority. “Not exactly sweetheart,” he breathes in, “I have many aspects to my job but that’s not a major one.” He leaned into my ear to whisper something. “I’m Matthew.. Sturniolo.” That last name rang through my ears.

Sturniolo.. as in the Mafia bosses, people who run the town from behind the scenes, picking and plucking anyone they choose. There’s three of them, their names always kept hidden but as I recall from news arcticles they’re brothers.

“I hooked up with a Mafia guy?” I whisper the last part of the sentence, he nods and I stand up. “Oh my god, does that mean I’m your property now?” I say in panic but a still a slight hint of excitement, he’s a gorgeous man with a protected house and a stable sense of income, on the plus side if anyone fucks with me he will kill them.

I need to not think about what I could gain from being with him, that’s selfish. I lean against the wall, placing my hand in my hair, trying to figure out what I’ve just learnt about my ‘one night stand’ “No of course not, I don’t own you. Not unless..” he walks up to me and lifts my chin with his large hand, “you want me to?” He pulls my mouth in and our lips connect softly.

I hum into the kiss, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck, something about him just makes me melt.. he’s got this appeal, maybe it’s the nicknames or the fact he’s a mafia boss but I’m drawn to him.

He lifts me up from my thighs and holds me, this only deepens the kiss before I pull away to speak “I want you to own me, I want you to use me.. I think I just want you.” I whisper, lust filling my senses. “Be careful what you wish for darling.” He spoke as he threw me down onto the bed, causing me to yelp.

“Can you be my good little girl and do what I say?” He leans down smirking, I nod quickly. “Words.” He spoke. “Yes I will..” I reply, filled with excitement and my stamina feels refuelled just from his kiss and touch.

He removes my panties and unclasps my bra, before removing his underwear too, revealing the large cock that I, not long ago, had inside of me. This time I feel even more sexually attracted to him due to his power.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He spoke as he dipped down between my legs, before I could reply he started swirling his tongue around my already wet entrance. I moan out loudly, his tongue slips inside of my hole causing me to arch my back. “Fuck..” I squeal before looking down at him, staring up at me with a seductive look in his eyes.

He sucks on my clit softly, elicting whimpers and curses from my lips. I already feel myself clench due to the pleasure, “fuck I’m gonna cum..” I breathe out between moans.

He hums before dipping his tongue into my entrance again, his nose hitting my swollen bulb just right. My back arches further and I tangle my hands in his hair. My thighs close around his head as I feel my climax reaching closer. “F-fuck.” I scream out as I feel my arousal leaking out of my entrance onto his slightly bearded face.

He forces my thighs open, which are still shaking and lifts his head, my juices around his lips. “Taste yourself..” he swipes some arousal from off his lips, onto his fingers and pushes the fingers into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his fingers before he removes them from my mouth. “Good girl.” He praises.

He pulls me closer to him before lining his tip up with my sensitive entrance, before giving me a chance to breathe he pushes into me harshly. I grip onto the sheets as he pounds into me roughly, maintaining eye contact. He pushes his forehead to mine, staring deeply into my eyes as he fucks into me. I bite my lip due to pleasure and a weird mix of pain, a good pain.

My core fuzzes again as he repeatedly hits my g-spot with his large member. “Fuck you feel so good around my cock.” He groans, I can’t reply as my eyes roll back into my head and the pleasure grows as I feel myself clench around him, causing his hips to jut forward. “Cum for me darling.” He breathes out, his forehead still pressed against mine.

His pupils dilate even further as both of our orgasms reach closer. “Fuck.” I yell out as I come undone, him following shortly, releasing his cum inside of me, as I had previously mentioned I was on the pill the first time we fucked.

He removes his cock from inside of my hole, leaving me feeling slightly empty. “I’m tired.” I whine. “Let’s sleep then.” He cleans me up and moves me under the blankets before sliding in next to me. “So what am I to you now then? I don’t wanna be a fuck doll or anything.” I lean into him.

“No of course you’re not a fuck doll.” He laughs before pulling me to face him and look him in the eyes.

“You’re my good little girl.” He smirks, “shut up.” I turn around pouting, “let me take you to dinner, I’ll show you what you are to me then.” He leans on my arm and brushes the hair out my face.

“Okay,” I sigh and smile slightly, “why me?” I ask and confusion fills his face. “Why did you pick me?” I ask again, he wraps his arms around me, “I could tell you were a genuine person. You were the only one at the party who wasn’t intimidated by me, you seemed innocent.” He smirks, “I was wrong about that.. you’re not so innocent.”

“I wasn’t intimidated because I didn’t know you were the mafia guy, I don’t even remember why I was invited to the party.” I shrug and nuzzle my head in to his chest, “I wanted you to come.” He whispers and I turn my head to face him quickly, “what?” I ask.

“I saw you, at the restaurant.. you were waiting a table and that big guy tried to intimidate you into giving him a discount and you argued back.. you weren’t scared of him, so I told my men to give you an invite to the party so I could get to know you better.” He looks at the ceiling above him, his arm still around me.

“The guy was tryna use his size to intimidate me.. I knew he wasn’t gonna do anything,” I say and he looks at me to show he’s listening. “You definitely got to know me a lot better..” I chuckle, looking at us laying in the bed naked together.

“I just felt like I needed you, that man was one of my rivals.. he verbally abuses women and I hate it so seeing one of them fight back made me drawn to you.” He stroked the side of my face, “you have me now.” I smile.

He smirks back at me and nods, “let’s sleep.. I’ll show you around in the morning.” He spoke quietly as he turns down the light, “okay.” I breath out on his bare chest.

I start to doze off before I get woken up slightly by him, “I’m so proud of how well you took my dick.” He whispered in my ear.

“Such a good girl.” He coos in my ear, stroking my hair before we both fall back to sleep.

A/n: I wanted to write more one shots since I haven’t in a while! This was fun and refreshing to write. I love papi Matt. Mafia Matt though 😍😏 ALSO IM ALMOST AT 500 FOLLOWERS TY YALL ILYYYYYY❤️

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @stingerayyy2 @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #matt #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic

[rainba]

What's Rightfully Mine (Yan. Kairos! x GN! Reader)

A/N: OOuuuhh... I've read over this a billion times and I figure I may as well go ahead and upload it. ^^;;;;;;;;;;;; Matching artwork with the story...! Woohoo! (*´▽`*)

TWs: very graphic depictions of violence, disturbing yandere behaviors, mild gore, kidnapping, 18+ content....... Kairos being Kairos. Slight mention of virginity (but it's just Kairos' virginity) MDNI.

Wordcount: 2300~

((And thank you @x-v0id-x for reading over the fic for me before I posted it!!! ☆:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:☆ ))

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Kairos never meant for this to happen. 

He swears up and down that he never wanted to do it– he promises that he never intended to hurt anybody.

But he did anyway.

However… Can you blame him–?

You are Kairos’ one and only, his soulmate, his beloved, the reason he breathes, the reason he wakes up every morning, the reason why he’s still alive– you’re his everything! Was he supposed to just let you run off into the arms of another man without even attempting to fight back...?!

The way you looked at that filth– that disgusting, foul, no-good other man… It made Kairos sick to his stomach.

What even was that guy’s name...?

(####)? (######)? (######).

Yes, that’s his name, Kairos is sure of it.

It repeats itself in Kairos’ mind over and over again, piercing his skull like a blade that twists and twists until he’s left screaming for mercy at the top of his lungs.

“G-get out of my head! Get out! Get out get out get out! Leave me alone!”

Countless nights end in him violently waking up from the same nightmare– a nightmare where you and (######) run off together while he helplessly watches. And in the nightmare, you smile so brightly, but you’re only smiling at that bastard. It’s like Kairos is invisible as he desperately crawls towards you. He’s sobbing and begging for you not to leave him, but it’s as if you can’t hear him.

However, (######) can.

(######) spits on him, jeers at him, then laughs as he carries you far, far away.

In Kairos’ nightmares, the other man stomps on his neck as he spits out callous remarks.

“Nobody could ever love you.” He sneers.

“You’re nothing but a disgusting freak.”

Kairos knows he’s heard these things before– but he can’t remember who once told him that.

He feels so powerless when imagines you with (######) as he sleeps, and he can’t stop himself from thinking about it when he’s awake– it’s a never-ending tragedy that haunts every second of every day. The bags under his eyes have grown horrifyingly darker. Kairos had to make this stop.

He was desperate.

Kairos didn’t have a choice as he broke into that man’s house, sneaking in through the first-floor window and trudging down the darkened halls.

Kairos didn’t have a choice as he crept into the shadowy bedroom with a silver blade placed firmly in his hands, his back pocket harboring a rag soaked in chloroform.

The two of you were sleeping together so peacefully– you and that disgusting bastard.

That man looked so carefree; his chest rising and falling at a perfectly even pace. His arms were wrapped so warmly around you, holding you close in a tender embrace. The blankets covered your lower halves, and the man’s face was buried in the back of your neck.

The scene was so peaceful. Way too peaceful…

With tear-stricken eyes, Kairos couldn’t help but wonder: “why can’t that be me?”

Why does this man get to live a happy and carefree life, but not him? Why does this man get to hold you tightly in his arms, and not him? Why… Why… 

Why does Kairos never get what he wants? 

This feeling– this god awful feeling that Kairos is constantly haunted by: envy.

Envy… The one emotion he’s all-too familiar with. He doesn’t want to feel this way anymore– for once in his life, he wants to have something, and not just yearn for it.

In this moment, he knows that the only way to obtain happiness… 

Is simply to take it by force.

Kairos had to be fast– because if the man woke up before he could stun him, then he’d be quickly overpowered.

Before he focused on taking him out, Kairos tiptoed over to your side, his gaze softening for just a moment. He pulled out the rag from his back pocket and placed it gently under your nose, covering all your airways. He knew he had to wait a few minutes– he had to make sure that you won’t wake up any time soon. So, while he stood there, he lovingly petted your hair and left little kisses on your forehead. When he was certain that the chloroform settled in, his heart started to tighten in his chest.

Adrenaline struck him like lightning as he snuck around the side of the bed, his purple eyes locked in on his target. For the first time in his life, Kairos was no longer the victim.

Nervous sweat dribbled down the sides of his face as he held the blade up high, positioning the pointed end towards the man’s exposed throat. Kairos could have turned back– he could have easily put the knife away and let you both go free. But he loved you too badly. He needed you too badly.

This was it.

He jabbed the knife deep into the man’s neck, hoping that would prevent any screams.

And it worked.

(######) jolted awake in horror as his mind raced to figure out what was happening. He threw his hands onto the wound and tried so desperately to stop the bleeding, but it was futile. It was so, so futile. Gurgled sounds bounced off the walls as a bloody rampage ensued right beside you.

Seeing the red gushing out flipped a switch in Kairos’ mind. He doesn’t know why he lost control– he doesn’t know how it happened– but it did.

Kairos’ vision went black as he fully jumped on top of the bed, plunging the knife into (######)’s body over and over and over again.

Slash, slash, slash.

A horrifying symphony: the sound of flesh being sliced apart.

The man’s muffled cries were like music to Kairos’ ears.

He choked and he gagged, whimpered and wailed, but coherent words of pleas were unable to escape his mouth. Every time he tried to kick Kairos off, Kairos would stab him in his legs. Every time the man tried to push him off, Kairos would slash the palm of his hands. Kairos thought for sure that he’d be overpowered, but the adrenaline in his veins gave him strength that he never knew he had.

And there was blood.

Blood everywhere.

“M-mine, mine, mine… They’re mine...!” Kairos mumbled manically under his breath, his focus flipping back and forth between you and his victim. But– it wasn’t just Kairos that looked over at you. Your partner did as well.

His shimmering eyes stared at you longingly– so lovingly... Too lovingly.

It made Kairos’ blood boil.

Through gritted teeth, he spat out, “n-no, you don’t get to look at them...! Don’t look at them ever again!”

Then… Slash.

The silver knife plunged deep into his eyes– thick blood spewing out from the wound.

Kairos can barely remember what happened after that. All he knew was that, eventually, the man ceased to struggle.

His black hoodie was now soaked in blood- his quivering hands completely red. It dripped from his cheeks and onto the corpse beneath him– the entire world was spinning dizzyingly fast.

(######)’s body was painted in deep lacerations, and his face was disfigured to the point of him being unrecognizable. Something about it was so… So…

Exciting.

 It was done now. It was over.

There was nobody in this world who could take you away from him.

And the thought of that made him smile.

Kairos laughed– he laughed so joyously, laughed so carefree.

Kairos’ mind was an incoherent mess. A horrible, horrible mess.

And he doesn’t know why it happened– he doesn’t know how it happened– in one moment, he was attacking that man, but in the next…

“M-mine… Mine… You’re f-finally mine!”

His pale hands were shaking as they savagely tore away your thin clothing. Kairos pushed your ex-lover’s corpse onto the floor as he kissed your lips with the intensity of a starved animal.

Your lips were so much softer than he imagined– so much sweeter, too. He couldn’t contain his excitement anymore– after all, this night marks the beginnings of a new and wonderful life!! 

And now, he also just gave you his first kiss! 

The silver light of the moon was glowing on his face, illuminating the dark red blood that stained his skin. He was a monster– a selfish freak that craved your love more than anything else.

There really was no rhyme or reason to anything Kairos was doing. At that moment, he just wanted to feel good; he needed to feel your warmth.

In one second, he was desperately humping your leg while holding your hips in place. In the next, he was kissing your stomach and fervently licking your chest. He knows that you can’t feel it, but that’s beside the point– he uses this time as practice, so that when you are awake, you’ll be feeling nothing but bliss! And besides… You just taste so good; he can’t help himself.

Kairos kisses and bites at your neck and collarbone, leaving behind a faint trail of needy marks. Without thinking, he pulls out his cock and begins to jerk himself off. He parts his mouth and rambles to himself.

“I’ll… I’ll m-make sure nobody finds you! Nobody!”

Kairos sticks out his tongue and licks over your left nipple; he does it a few more times before fully sucking on it. The lewd act sends a shiver down his spine.

It’s so hot, so naughty, and ultimately entirely new to him. He’s never been so turned on before.

“W-we’ll live happily together, alone in my apartment! And you’ll be s-so happy!”

He speaks as if you can hear him– and deep down, he almost wishes that you could. Kairos crawls up further onto the bed and digs his knees into your shoulders, the shadow of his cock looming over your perfect face. It’s so close to you– so, so close– god, he still wishes you were awake right now. But he knows you’d fight him off if you knew what was going on.

“I’ll f-feed you every day, and– And I’ll learn how to cook for you! I– I can watch videos online… I promise I’ll learn… J-just for you!”

He strokes himself even faster, soft wet sounds echoing off the bloodied walls. Kairos lifts the chloroform rag away from your mouth but keeps it over your nose. He presses his tip against your lips as he keeps going, his precum slowly dribbling down your chin.

“W-we can make love every single night...! I’ll… I’ll make you feel so, so good… I…” A shiver runs up and down his spine as a whiney moan escapes him.

“M-my virginity… It’s… It’s all yours...! Ahh…” 

His eyes squeeze shut as a hot sting of pleasure surges through him.

“D-doesn’t that sound wonderful!? I’m all yours, my love!”

Kairos pushes his cock a little closer to your lips– but he does it a bit too aggressively, the tip of it scraping against your teeth. God, he would give anything for you to suck on it– even if only for a fraction of a second.

“Th-then we can have a family one day!! I’ll– I’ll get my job going, I… I’ll m-make more money! Lots of money! W-we can adopt… We can…”

With his one free hand, Kairos reaches down and begins to stroke your hair, leaving blood stains all throughout it. 

“J-just us two, only u-us two… Nobody… Else!” 

The pace of his hand quickens as his head starts to tilt backwards, his breathing growing out of control. His chest heaves as he erratically chases his high, yearning so badly to feel it hit him all at once.

He can’t help but imagine how wonderful the future will be– your all's future together. Then he imagines the way you’ll be all tied up in his bed, completely naked and vulnerable for him…

Just like you are now.

“F-fuck..!”

It’s all too much– Kairos’ cock twitches as he cums all over your face, some of it pouring into your mouth and on your cheeks. He squeezes as much of it out as he possibly can, craving to see you drenched in it. Throughout it all, you still sleep so peacefully… All thanks to the chloroform.

He can’t help but think that you look so cute when you’re knocked out and covered in his cum.

Ah… if only he could draw you in this state.

Even though he so badly wants to collapse by your side and cuddle you, he knows that he has to move. There is quite literally a dead body in the room and blood on his hands– he has to clean up.

And he also has to find a way to sneak your body to his broken-down car outside.

Very reluctantly, he kisses you on your forehead, smiling sweetly. “I’ll… I’ll be back, my love!”

After a while of stumbling, he finds himself entering the bathroom.

When he looks in the mirror, his eyes widen partially in horror. Kairos knew this side of himself existed deep within him… He knew there was a disgusting monster that laid dormant in his chest, but he had never before seen it come out so fiercely.

His pupils were small, his purple eyes hauntingly beautiful. And on top of that, he was grinning.

It was the first time he had genuinely smiled in weeks– maybe even months.

Kairos turned on the sink to wash off his face, but he only seemed to be making more of a mess. Blood streamed down the sides of the sink and pooled in the drain. Despite how macabre it all was, he just couldn’t stop smiling– because now he has everything he could ever want: you.

All to himself… Forever.

Until death do you part.

#teehee #silly kairos moment #yandere oc x reader #yandere #yancore #yandere male #yandere fic #male yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere x darling

[joelsgreys]

Lonely Too Long l (To Hell and Back Drabble)

Series Masterlist

Summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, minors DNI. Flashback of implied SA, but no descriptions. Soft Joel, Joel sings to reader. *If you happen to be reading the series, I recommend reading this one because it starts setting up Joel and reader’s relationship. This is also the last flashback she’s going to have since it’s a heavier one than the last two.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Dust to Dust is one of my favorite songs by The Civil Wars. I know the song did not come out until like 2013, but we’re just going to pretend. Also, I know that the gif is video game Joel, but god I love him just as much and it fits this scene so we are gonna roll with it. I know this might not be everyone’s cup of tea but I wanted to write it so I did. 🤌🏼 I am still organizing the taglist for this series, it will be start with the next chapter. This was mostly for me but hopefully some people out there enjoy it too. 🤍

You couldn’t scream.

You’re trying to cry out, but you can’t.

Chest tight, your lungs won’t expand.

You couldn’t breathe. 

One hand around your neck, the other is fumbling with the zipper of your jeans.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he grinned, his fingers roughly scraping against the skin of your lower stomach.

In the corner, your cellmate is curled into a little ball in the floor, hands covering her ears and her eyes squeezed shut.

She’s probably praying she won’t be next.

She’s seventeen so even in the midst of your own chaos, you can’t help but pray she isn’t next too.

You thrashed around underneath him. It’s futile, but all you can think about is getting him off you.

Grin fading, he let out a heavy, irritated sigh. His hand left the waistband of your jeans. He reached behind him and pulled out his gun, bringing it up to into your view—it caused you to cease any and all movements. “Listen to me,” he said, pressing the barrel of the pistol against your temple. “It’s simple, really. Keep squirming and I’ll blow your fucking brains out. Do you understand, dollface?”

When he received no response, he dug the barrel deeper into your skin, his finger on the trigger.

“Do you understand?” He repeated, his tone low.

Nearly paralyzed, all you could do was nod. 

“Good.” He roughly flipped you over.

The sound of his belt buckle clanking rang loudly in your ears. As he yanked your jeans down to the middle of your thighs, you closed your eyes.

Both your mind and your body went numb.

A light, late night rainstorm came out of nowhere, sweeping over the town. The soft, pitter pattering sound of raindrops on the window above your bed had almost lulled you into slumber.

Almost.

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

The words blended into a steady but silent chant.

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe.

Slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead, you exhaled a long, heavy sigh and stared up into the the darkness of the bedroom.

You couldn’t be certain as to what time it was, but it had to be well into the middle of the night. You’d been tossing and turning for a couple of hours but somehow it felt like a hell of a lot longer than that.

You were fucking exhausted. You nearly ached for some sleep, but every damn time that you closed your eyes, vivid images of the past came creeping in and chased it further and further away.

Your brain just couldn’t seem to wrap itself around the fact that this place wasn’t dangerous.

That you didn’t have to sleep with one eye open.

That nobody was going to hurt you.

That you were safe in a soft bed in a real house.

You weren’t lying on a dirty cot in a human cage.

Sighing again, you thought about Joel who was in his bedroom down the hallway, sleeping.

It brought you comfort knowing he was close. But for some reason you couldn’t quite explain, part of you couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t close enough.

You. The same woman who vowed never to trust another human being ever again—you wanted him fucking closer. Actually, it wasn’t a want so much as it was a need.

You needed him to be closer.

Sitting up, you tossed the sheets back and swung your legs over the edge of the mattress, your bare feet meeting the cold, hardwood floors. You stood and quietly padded out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards Joel’s.

“You know where to find me if you need anythin’,” he’d assured you before he had gone off to bed.

You stopped in front of his door and lifted a curled first, knocking lightly. About a minute or two went by, and just when you started to realize that you’d made a mistake and whirled around to make a run for it back to your own room where you could hop back into bed and pretend that the thought of this hadn’t ever even crossed your mind, he opened up his bedroom door.

“Thought I heard a knock,” Joel mumbled sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with one of his hands. He wore nothing but his sweatpants, his hair looking about ten times more disheveled than usual. “Everythin’ alright?”

You swallowed dryly, trying your hardest not to let your eyes wander away from his face—it proved to be almost too difficult to keep from staring. Joel’s shoulders were broad, his chest was wide, and his stomach was soft; his sweatpants hung on the low side on his hips and revealed the trail of dark curls that started at his lower belly and descended until it disappeared underneath the elastic waistband.

You caught yourself before they could go lower.

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” he asked, stifling a yawn. Thankfully he hasn’t seemed to notice you gawking at him. He rubbed at his eyes once again and then observed you, trying to figure out what it was that had brought you to his room at this hour. “You need somethin’? Are you cold? Did you need an extra blanket?”

You lightly shook your head in response. No.

He tried again. “Are you still hungry?” he asked as he gestured towards the stairs. “I can make you another sandwich if you want—”

He was cut off by another shake of your head that told him that wasn’t it.

“You just can’t sleep,” Joel realized after a minute. He frowned—he could see how tired you were and for as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he had a feeling that he knew what it was that was on your mind and keeping you awake. “What can I do to help, sweetness?”

You blinked, standing there almost dumbfounded.

Clearly, you hadn’t thought this through.

You would knock on Joel’s door and then what?

You would talk to him about what’s on your mind?

Letting out a tiny frustrated huff that was directed at yourself, you waved a dismissive hand in the air.

Forget it. There’s nothing you can do.

As you turned around to leave, Joel reached out to take your arm. He curled his fingers lightly around your elbow. “Well now, hold on a minute. You’re at my door for a reason,” he said. He watched as your eyes flickered to his hand around your arm, but he couldn’t be sure if his touch had bothered you. He dropped it, not wanting to risk pushing you too far or crossing a line, not when he had made progress with you, progress he didn’t want to lose. “You not bein’ able to sleep—it have anythin’ to do with you still not feelin’ safe?”

You hesitated.

“It’s alright, darlin’. You can be honest with me.”

The sheepish expression on your face said it all.

No, I can’t sleep because I don’t feel safe.

“Would it help if you slept with me?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, eyes widening at his proposal. At least, the way he’d said it.

Excuse me?

Realizing how it had sounded, Joel flushed. “What I mean is, would it help if you slept in my bed?” He winced. That hadn’t sounded all that much better. “You sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he sputtered out quickly. “That’s what I meant. That way I’m right next to you and you ain’t alone.”

Gnawing nervously on your bottom lip, you took a minute to think it over.

If you wanted him closer, this was your chance.

But why? Why did you want him to be closer? Why did you need to have him at your side?

You’d been on your own for an entire fucking year.

And it had been by choice.

You didn’t want to be around other people, sure as hell didn’t need to be around other people.

And then Joel Miller makes his appearance and all of a sudden, you’re at his door in the middle of the damn night because you feel the need to have him at your side?

Finally, you nodded your head. Okay.

“Come in.” He stepped aside, allowing you in. Not wanting you to feel trapped in his room, he left the door open. “And you’re free to go on back to your own room whenever you feel like it.”

Joel picked up his discarded tee shirt from earlier, a small labored grunt escaping him as he brought himself back into an upright position, the bones in his lower back crackling with protest. Turning over his shirt right side out, he tugged it on as you took a look around his bedroom, a larger space dimly lit by the small lamp on his nightstand.

That’s when you saw it.

Perched on a stand, it was nestled in the corner.

A guitar.

Curiously, you walked over and knelt in front of it.

You reached out and softly ran your fingers across the strings, smiling to yourself at the sound it had made.

“Found that while out on patrol with Tommy a few weeks ago,” Joel stated as he came up behind you slowly. “Gibson. Little worse for wear, but in damn good condition all things considerin’. Woulda been a crime to leave it out there,” he chuckled. “I know Ellie’s been wantin’ to learn, it’s the main reason it came back home with me. I haven’t shown her yet since I still gotta clean and polish her up.” He took a brief pause. “You know how to play?”

You ran your fingers across the strings once more, and a loud, terrible noise that wasn’t even close to music caused him to wince. You then looked up at him over your shoulder with an amused grin.

Does it sound like I know how to play?

Joel couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll take that as a no, then.” He leaned over and picked up the guitar. He walked over and took a seat on the side of his bed, patting the seat beside him. “C’mere, sweetness.”

Getting up to your feet, you wrapped Joel’s flannel closer around your body as you padded over to his bed, perching yourself next to him.

Head down and focused, he began to strum a few notes. You couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by how his large hands moved on the instrument, the way his long, thick fingers—

Swallowing dryly, you cut the thought short.

Curiously, you put a hand on his shoulder.

Joel paused the tune. “What is it, darlin’?”

With your opposite hand, you touched your throat and then pointed at him. Can you sing?

He gave a half hearted shrug. “I do like to sing,” he admitted almost bashfully. “Always been fond of it ever since I was a kid.” He chuckled. “Before goin’ into construction, I wanted to be a musician. But I knew it would never pay the bills.”

You squeezed Joel’s shoulder and gestured to the guitar, then to his throat again. Will you sing me a song?

Joel felt the back of his neck burn and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Normally, I would probably say no,” he admitted. “But, seein’ as you saved my life and all, I’d be a real asshole if I said no to you.”

Lifting your chin, you shot him a smug look. That is very true. So go on then, Johnny Cash. Play me a song.

“Alright. Any requests?”

You nudged him lightly. Very funny.

“Okay, um. Gimme a minute to think of a song.”

Withdrawing your hand from his shoulder, you sat back against his pillows and pulled your legs up to your chest, hugging your knees.

Nervously, Joel inhaled and exhaled a deep breath and began strumming the guitar. Chills shot down your spinal cord as a hauntingly beautiful melody filled his bedroom. He turned and angled his body towards to you as he began to sing.

“You’ve held your head up,

you’ve fought the fight

you bear the scars, you’ve done your time

listen to me, you’ve been lonely too long…”

Your mouth fell open slightly.

“Let me in the walls you’ve built around

we can light a match and burn them down…”

The rich baritone of his voice caused goosebumps to eruprt all over your flesh. Furiously, you rubbed at your bare legs, but it was useless.

With every note Joel sang to you, more appeared.

With every note Joel sang to you, the harder you found it to breathe steady.

With every note Joel sang to you, the more beats your heart seemed to be skipping.

“Let me hold your hand

and dance ‘round and ‘round the flames

in front of us, dust to dust…”

Joel glanced up, his dark brown eyes holding your gaze as he sang the final verse of the song.

“You’re like a mirror, reflectin’ me

takes one to know one, so take it from me

you’ve been lonely

you’ve been lonely too long.”

Even if you could speak to him, you would’ve been left speechless—all that you could do was stare at him in complete awe.

Joel set the guitar down. “I’m alright,” he said with a sheepish little laugh. “My voice ain’t nowhere as nice as yours.”

You stiffened slightly.

What are you talking about?

“Don’t look at me like that. I know it was you who I heard singin’ back at that cabin when I was comin’ back around.” He gave you a crooked grin. “Earlier I was just playin’ dumb, but I know it was you. You have a gorgeous voice, and I’d love to hear it again someday.”

Hugging your legs closer to yourself, you dropped your head down onto your knees, embarrassed.

What was the matter with you?

Here was a man who had taken you in, offered you a warm bed under his own roof—gave you clothes and fed you, even offered to give up his own damn bed and sleep on the cold hard floor beside you to make you feel safe enough to sleep.

And you still couldn’t say a fucking word to him.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Forcing your head up, your gaze met his.

“It’s alright, darlin’,” Joel assured you. “It’s just like I told you downstairs. We’re gonna take it one step at a time.” Lifting one of his hands, he reached out holding it out to you, his palm face upwards. “And I swear, once you find your voice, I’m gonna do all that I can do to make sure you never lose it again.”

Biting your lower lip, you placed your hand in his.

Joel have it a gentle squeeze. “Atta girl.”

Much sooner than you would have liked, he let go of your hand and stood up.

“We should get some sleep. You’re gonna need all the rest you can get before you meet my kid. Ellie. She’ll be here first thing and I should warn you she can be, uh, she can be a lot to process.” He let out an amused snort and reached for a pillow, tossing it onto the floor. “You can have all the blankets, I’ll just take this throw here—”

As Joel reached past you for a green flannel throw blanket, you grabbed his arm to stop him. His face was just inches from yours.

Close.

But again somehow still not close enough.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, softly.

Warm and laced with mint from the toothpaste he had used to brush his teeth before bed, his breath tickled the tip of of your nose, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine.

Your eyes looked right into his as you scooter over to the other side of his bed—it was firm, cold. Like no one had ever occupied that space before. But it was foolish to think that a man like Joel Miller had never had another woman share his bed before.

You patted the spot beside you.

Sleep up here.

“You sure about this, darlin’?”

You patted the empty spot again. Yes I’m sure.

Joel squinted at you. “You ain’t gonna strangle me in my sleep, are you now?”

His half serious joke was met with a glare.

Keep it up with wise cracks and I just might.

He held his hands up in defense. “Just checkin.”

As you crawled underneath his dark green sheets, Joel slid into bed beside you, making sure to leave a good three foot gap between the both of you; he murmured a quiet goodnight and switched off the lamp on his nightstand before rolling over onto his stomach—not even two minutes later and his soft snores filled the room.

You turned onto your side, facing him. Through a beam of moonlight steaming in through a crack in the curtains, you could just make out the outlines of his facial features. He’d fallen asleep facing you.

Closing your eyes, your body sank further into the mattress, heavy with exhaustion.

Taut, tense muscles finally relaxed.

Tight jaw finally unclenched.

You’re safe.

You slowly started drifting off to sleep.

With Joel beside you, no nightmares came to visit.

#to hell and back #to hell and back fic #joel miller #joel miller comfort #soft joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller series #Joel miller story #joel miller fic #Joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #Spotify

[imthegayone]

A Broken Rib (drabble)

Summary: You broke a rib during a stunt, earning yourself a scolding by your girlfriend.

Warrnings: mention of bruising? and some errors (reread this maybe twice)

Author's Note: A small little drabble cause I wanted to get something out for you all but these wips are kicking my ass rn. Also this is inspired by an interview where Britney Snow (i think) broke a rib during a stunt where she had to ram against a car to break it's widow and a fic I read a bit ago were Jenna sprains her ankle at work when she's distracted by a video of reader. (sadly I can't find it or I'd link it) Hope you enjoy 🩵

Word Count: 431

________

“You’re never doing that again.” Jenna reprimands a look in her eyes that says there’s no room for negotiation. However, it was an accident, you knew that and she knew that. The stunt was easy, even your manager agreed that you could ram yourself into the car for the scene. It didn’t stop Jenna from worrying though, the second she was told about your hospital visit a nervous pit settled deep in her stomach. 

“Jen.” You groan, you’re in need of sleep and just want to be held in the shorter girl's arms while you watch your favorite comfort movie. “Don’t Jen, me I’m not the one in trouble, you are.” Crossing her arms, you finally notice just how high her anxiety was. Understanding exactly how much stress someone could put themselves under when not knowing the condition of their loved one. You had experienced the same mounting fear when she sprained her ankle on set a year ago.

You sigh, never wanting to make her sick with worry especially when you were fine. “Baby, I’m okay. It’s one broken rib, plenty of people get broken ribs and survive.” 

“I’m just a little sore.” You add, prodding at the growing colors splayed across your abdomen. “And bruised.” Jenna mumbles knowing she’s not gonna get anywhere with you. You grab her hand placing it above your heart. “I’m fine. We got the shot, neither I nor Naomi need to redo it.” 

“She’s doing all your stunts from now on and I mean it.” Jenna gives you her best stern eyes but she knows you, you’re just like her when it comes to things like this. If you can do it yourself then why not? 

“You know I can’t promise that.” Jenna sighs knowing you’re right. She gently wraps you up in a hug, careful not to hurt you further. She’ll have plenty of time to scold you but for now she’d rather get you into bed to rest. “Just take it easy next time, okay? If you need a break, take one.” 

“I will. I promise.” Promising sincerely, your y/e/c eyes boring into her soft brown ones. “Too bad there’s not gonna be a scar though, I heard women love scars.” You tease, breaking the tension.

“Oh my god, please shut up.” Jenna says hiding her face in your neck at your embarrassing statement. Unable to contain her chuckle at your silly excuse for flirting. “I love you, even though you’re a reckless idiot.” 

“Yeah but I’m your reckless idiot.” 

Squeezing her tighter in your hold. “I love you too.”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #we'll see how long I keep this up #i also couldn't stop singing #baby back ribs from chilli's theme song so... #good luck reading this when thats my head space #have all these ended in I love yous?? #fics by the gay

[carmyboobear]

ahhh !!!!!

NSFW but I just read your sub carmy and sex scene with Claire thoughts back to back because I’m obsessed with your posts

Idk if it would be sub Carmy or just inexperienced Carmy, 🙈🙈

but just, like being his first blowjob (ew I’ve never typed that before it feels criminal) and seeing him not know what he should grip so he’s like trying not to hold your hair or hurt you and how embarrassed he would be if it didn’t take long and just him being relaxed afterwards because my boy needs a break

I know he’s just a man but I require him to breathe

TEEHEE thanks so much friend! I’m so glad to hear you’re enjoying my stuff, it means so much!!

And as for sub carmy or inexperienced carmy… WHY NOT BOTH! I think he’d just be grabbing at the sheets like a mad man, white knuckling it, until you tell him to grab your hair.

tags bc I got carried away: MDNI🔞, sub/virgin carmy, deepthroating, oral (bj)

“You can put your hands in my hair, y’know,” you tell him. Carmy can barely stand to look at you, glossy lips kissing up the length of his spit-slicked cock. It’s too much for his brain to process, to handle.

“I—I don’t wanna hurt you,” he breathes, and he uncurls his cramping fingers from the sheets.

“It’s okay. Really.” You gently take his hands towards your hair, and he shakily settles his palms there. One of his hands roots itself carefully in your hair, and the other’s brushing strands out of your face.

“Tell me if it hurts?” He asks.

“Sure,” you say dismissively, and he’s about to object before you add, “but maybe I want you to hurt me a little.”

“Fucking hell,” he curses under his breath, your words going straight to his groin. He twitches in your hand.

“Don’t come yet,” you warn him. “I want you to come in my mouth. And don’t be gentle. Do you understand?”

“Shit, yes, I understand,” he whimpers. His hands tighten in your hair reflexively, and you moan quietly in approval.

“Good boy,” you purr, and you swallow the entire length of his cock.

“Oh my—oh my god—“ Carmy sucks in a sharp breath and keeps it there, his body tightening around the wet heat of your mouth. The tip of his cock is hitting the back your throat, and you’re fucking swallowing, gagging on it, and his hands are gripping your hair so tight it’s sure to hurt, but you’re moaning, god, you’re moaning so beautifully around his cock and it feels, it feels—

Your nose is pressed against his stomach as he comes down your tight throat, his tip pushed up right against it. Tears bead at the corner of his eyes from the force of his orgasm, blinding and overwhelming. Through it all, through his pretty whines and gasps, he holds you down on his cock.

When his fingers finally loosen and you slip off his soft cock, the sight of you threatens to turn him on again. Spit runs down your chin, and your lips are reddened and plump from sucking him off. Tear tracks mark your cheeks.

“You were perfect,” you say, voice hoarse. “Good boy.”

Fucking hell.

#carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto smut #my asks #my blurbs #my smut #GOD I’m sorry anon I got so carried away. hope u like

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 4

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5 , Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

AN: I wrote this hungover so you can just call me The Little Engine That Could

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexisim, trauma from under the mountain, alcohol, SA, blood

Word Count: 3,121

If Eris could see me right now he would surely detest my un-princess like behavior and call off our courtship promptly. In fact I might put ‘standing on a pile of books to reach the top of a bookshelf’ in my Eris repellent arsenal. 

Normally I would ask The House of Wind for assistance but I suppose that today it wanted to use me as entertainment. The large stack below me wobbled causing my stomach to flip as my fingertips brushed the edge of the leatherbound book I was just dying to read. I almost had it in my hand when my book stack teetered again causing me to gasp. 

“Woah there princess!” boomed a voice from the hall. “Get down, you're going to hurt yourself.” 

I turned my head to find Cassian clad in casual clothes, most likely about to turn in for the night. Seeing him in fighting leathers was deadly, but seeing him so domestic? It made my cheeks heat. My makeshift step stool wobbled again and I would’ve toppled over if it wasn’t for the general's hands grasping my hips and placing me on the ground. 

“Thanks,” I smile as my feet firmly hit the plush carpet. I can’t help but feel a little foolish.

“Which one did you want?” Cassian asked, scanning the shelf I was close to climbing. 

“Uh the red one, with the rose on the spine,” I reply pointing to it. 

He reached his arm up and plucked the book from the shelf with ease. Gods now I really did feel foolish. 

“Here you go,” he smiles, handing me the book. I take it from his grasp and for a moment his hand brushes mine sending shivers down my spine. In the 5 seconds I feel his skin I try to soak up all the warmth that it holds. Try to remember the sensation so I can replay it over and over again in my head when I go to bed. 

“Thank you,” I smile trying to avoid those hazel eyes.

“See now you’ve taught me to fetch too,” he jokes. 

I roll my eyes, “You’re never going to let me live that dog comment down are you?” I laugh. 

Cassian flashes me a smile that threatens to make my knees buckle before perusing the bookshelf himself. I take it as my queue to relax on the couch next to the roaring fire. Ever since that drunken night when I ran into him coming back from Rita’s I couldn’t shake the words he had said to me… I’d do anything for you y/n. I tried to forget the feeling of his hands on my hips, the warmth seeping through the silk of my nightgown. But no matter how hard I tried, the scene continued to replay in my head over and over again. 

Even now it was hard to read with him in the room. I tried to keep my eyes on the book I was reading, but even just watching him scan all the shelves was erotic. I watched as his fingers grazed over a few titles until he finally plucked one from its spot. He began to walk towards the door and before I could even think my words betray me. 

“Wait!” I call out and he stops in his tracks. I mentally curse myself. Now what’s your plan dipshit? 

“Do you need another book?” Cassian asks and I realize I’ve let him sit in silence for longer than I ought to. 

“Could you stay and read here? I know reading is typically an independent activity but…” My voice trails off and I try to decide whether or not to voice my next words. “I find it hard being alone as of late.”  

It was true. Whenever I had a moment alone my mind would wander to that interaction in the hallway… don’t marry him…and then it would wander to thoughts of Eris, that damned dream I kept having. 

“Of course I’ll stay,” he says, turning from the door. 

As long as you’ll let me, I’ll do anything for you princess…

Cassian walks over to where I sit on the couch, picks up my outstretched legs and places them on his lap so that he can sit down. His forearms rest on my shins as he flips open his book and I nearly gawk at how natural the movement is for him. 

“You don’t have to sit next to me, you know?” I laugh. “You can sit in one of the chairs over there if you want to.” I say nodding to a set of armchairs in the corner. 

“Yeah but this is the only seat close to the fire,” he replies. “Besides, those chairs aren’t very wing friendly.” 

My eyes look back to the chairs and realize that he’s right so I shrug my shoulders and turn my eyes to my book. It was hard to concentrate on reading with the feeling of my legs in his lap but as my eyes scan the page I can’t help but get lost in the story…

“So you have me alone, in your bedroom.” Sofie says. “Now what happens?” 

Alexander stalks towards her, looking her up and down. “Now I kiss you, and touch you, and make you mine in every way I possibly can.”

I feel my blood heat up and I avidly try not to let my toes curl knowing they are currently in Cassian’s lap. The scene progresses and I try not to look like I’m reading something so filthy in the presence of my general, which is near impossible. 

Cassian clears his throat and I yank my gaze up expecting to find him looking at me like a scorned parent. Instead I find him quietly reading his own book. His own very large, very heavy book. 

“That book is huge,” I point out and his gaze snaps to me. “What is it about?”

“It’s about war strategies,” he replies cooly. “I’ve read it before, but I like to brush up on it every now and then.” 

“That’s what you read in your spare time? War strategies?” I scoff. 

“Knowledge is power princess,” he smiles flipping through the pages of the abnormally large book. “I’m your general, don’t you want me reading this kind of thing?” 

“I want you to read what makes you happy, especially when it’s for pleasure.” I laugh, shaking my head.  

“Well then you’ll be glad to know that reading war books makes me happy,” he muses at me. 

I shake my head and return to my own book, getting caught up in the heat of the scene once more. 

“What are you reading princess?” Cassian chides knowingly. 

“Oh nothing,” I say, pulling the book closer to my chest in a way that definitely could’ve been more subtle.

“Really because it looked like you were riveted a few moments ago,” he smirks, leaning over to try and see the title. 

“Well it’s a good book!” I squeak, pulling the book back further so he can’t see it.

“Why are you hiding?” Cassian laughs. “Afraid I’ll judge your literary tastes?”

“Yes actually I am,” I laugh pulling the book away from his hand as he tries to pluck it from my fingers. 

“Oh c’mon princess I showed you mine now show me yours,” he teases. One of his hands clamps down on my ankle so I can’t shift away anymore while the other snatches the book from my hands. 

“Cassian!” I protest as he moves the novel to his other hand that’s hanging off the arm of the couch. 

“As he kissed her feverishly his hands ran down her bare breasts, leaving goosebumps over the skin they touched.” Cassian read from the book. “This isn’t very lady like reading material princess!” he teases me. 

In a panic I climb over his lap to try and get the book back but he pulls it even further away. 

“Alexander's fingers traveled lower to her awaiting-” Cassian laughed before I finally grabbed the book from his hands. 

“I’ll take that!” I said snapping the book closed. 

It wasn’t until the book was safely in my possession once more that I realized the compromising position I was in… I was on his lap. I was sitting on my general's lap. I quickly scooted over to the side to sit next to him once more trying to hide the blush in my cheeks. 

“Who knew you had a secret romantic side?” Cassian teases with a sly smirk. 

“Yeah yeah, you found me out! Now go back to reading your book about stabbing people!” I brush him off with a laugh.

We spend the rest of the evening reading our respective books, this time without any interruptions. At first it’s nearly impossible to read while he’s right next to me, especially given the content of said book. But after a while I fall into a comfortable silence with the general, stealing glances at him whenever I can. At some point in the night, though I can’t pinpoint when, my eyes grow heavy and I fall asleep, one of the most peaceful rests I’d had in a while.  

Cassian: 

I’d be lying if I didn’t say the content of the princess’ book didn’t both shock and intrigue me. So much so that I couldn’t help but glance her way every once in a while just to see her little hands gripping the pages like her life depended on it. 

Even though she was just sitting there reading, she was so undeniably gorgeous. No wonder her beauty had been built up to the point where she was practically a character from mythology.  I almost cursed myself for admiring her too much, clearly just becoming another wide eyed male desperately seeking the princess’ attention. I recalled how Helion practically begged Rhysand for her hand, not to mention the other lords. Gods I really was just one of many when, and even more depressing, the least worthy of her affections.

At one point I glanced over to find her fast asleep with her book resting on her chest. I thought about leaving to go to my room or carrying her to bed. But she was so peaceful. More peaceful in this moment than I had seen in the past few weeks. I would kill anyone who dared pull her from that peace, and that meant myself as well. So I set down my book and let myself sink further into the couch. 

I had never slept in the library before, but there’s a first time for everything.  

Cassian:

“You’re even slower today than you were yesterday brother,” Azriel barked, swinging his sword towards me. I blocked with my own, the sound of metal on metal reverberating throughout the air. “Let me guess, another bad night of sleep?” 

“I slept fine!” I grumble going in for the attack, he blocks me with ease. 

“Are you sure? When I saw you asleep on the couch with the princess this morning you didn’t look too comfortable.” he smirked. The words caught me so off guard I missed my block and his sword sliced the back of my shoulder. 

“Ahh,” I hissed at the cut. 

“Sorry I thought you were gonna block that,” Azriel laughs. 

“I’m fine,” I say, shrugging off the small cut. “Let’s go again.” 

“Actually let’s call it, Rhys needs me on the border to check on things with Hybern,” Az replies, putting his sword over with the others. 

I do the same and go to take off the wraps around my hands. I can’t help but notice the scars and calluses all over them from years of battle and war. Clearly hands unfit to be anywhere near the princess. 

“How does the autumn court fare?” Azriel asks, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Still full of the most pompous asses in Prythian,” I roll my eyes. 

“Good to see things haven’t changed,” Az laughs. “Does y/n seem to be warming up to Eris?” 

My head immediately goes to that dark hallway. How she screamed for him to get off her. I’ll never unsee the fear in her eyes. 

“No, she can’t stand him. But he seems to be warming up to her just fine,” I say trying not to sound as bristled as I am. 

“Uh oh,” Azriel said, catching my tone. 

“He was going to rape her the other day, I had to intervine.” I huff tossing away what’s left of my wraps a little harsher than I normally would.

“Are you serious? Why haven’t you told Rhys?” Azriel asks, his tone changing. 

“She won’t let me, she's determined to see this thing through, for us, for her people.” I explain trying to stay calm. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see this coming,” Azriel says. “When she became this almost mythical being I knew that she would be a conquest. Especially for males like Eris. If he chooses to marry her it won’t be because he loves her. He just wants to say that he owns The Jewel.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I scoff at my brother. 

“She deserves someone who loves her for her. Someone who sees her as more than The Jewel. Someone who has a big heart. Someone who makes her laugh. Someone that teaches her how to play drinking games,” Azriel went on and I knew exactly what he was getting at. 

“Nice try Az, but it’s never going to happen,” I huff walking towards the door 

“You wouldn’t know, you haven’t asked her!” he shouts at me. 

I shake my head at my brother's persistence as I make my way inside the House of Wind. For what it’s worth, I should be flattered that he think’s the princess could ever love someone like me. But I don’t feel flattered, I feel like a joke. The kind that might be passed around by other men at taverns for years to come. 

“Have you ever heard the story of the bastard general and the beautiful princess?”

“The poor fool fell in love with her and she turned him down flat!”

Gods I could hear the crowds of drunken fools laughing at the tale right now. 

The kitchen in the House of Wind always seemed like the most alive part of the house and the part of the house I had always ventured to least. Meals always seemed to appear whenever they were required, leaving no reason to darken the kitchen's doorstep. However, while the cut on the back of my shoulder didn’t hurt, the last thing I needed was an infection. Which is how I found myself rummaging through doors and cabinets for the first aid kit.

“You’re bleeding.” said that beautiful voice cutting through the air like a siren's song. I swore then and there I’d follow it to whatever end. 

I turned to find the princess, standing in the doorway clutching that red leather book from last night. I don’t miss her eyes glancing over my half naked body and it takes everything in me not to bear a self satisfied smirk.

“It’s just a scratch from sparring with Az,” I reply, trying to look over my shoulder to see the state of the cut. 

“Here, let me help you,” she said, turning to the drawer nearest to her and pulling out the first aid kit. 

“Don’t worry I can do it,” I assure her, the idea of her dirtying her hands by touching me makes me cringe. 

“It’s on your back you won’t be able to reach it,” she answers, laying out the things from the kit. 

“Princess you really don’t have-” 

“Shh, think of it as me repaying you for fetching that book for me last night,” she says with a playful glint in her eye. 

I smile remembering everything from me teasing her about the dog comment to the sight of her reading that dirty book. I turn around so she can see the small cut. 

“Do you think you could sit down? It’ll be easier for me to reach.” she asked me. 

“Yes sorry,” I replied sitting down. 

My skin practically buzzes from anticipation, knowing I’ll feel the gentleness of her hands at any  moment.  I suddenly feel like an adolescent male again, excited at the idea of having a female hug me. The second the warm washcloth is pulled away from the cut it’s replaced by her hands smoothing a healing balm over it. I flinch at the chill of her fingers on my bare skin. 

“Sorry my hands are cold,” she apologizes. I almost laugh, her hands are nothing but perfect. All of her is. 

“No it’s okay,” I say back trying to keep my voice even. I feel her smooth a bandage over the cut and the second she removes her hands from my skin I contemplate begging her to touch me once more. 

“All patched up!” she cheers, already beginning to pick up the supplies. 

“Thank gods I thought they were going to have to amputate,” I laugh standing up and flexing my shoulder back and forth to get used to the feeling of the wrapping.

“We can’t have that. How would you dance at the Vanserra’s ball tomorrow night?” she jokes putting the kit back in the drawer. 

“Ah yes, I forgot that’s tomorrow,” I say. In truth I had been counting down the days leading up to the dreaded event.

“You are coming right?” she asks and I can sense a bit of worry behind her words.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” I assure her. 

“Good, it’ll be nice to have a familiar face there,” she smiles. “Who knows, maybe they’ll bring out that wine they had at dinner.”

“They better, there’s no way I can stand being in a room full of pompous assholes that long sober!” I laugh.  

“Tell me about it, I’ll have to dance with Eris all night,” she says, rolling her eyes. The image of her in his arms is enough to make my blood boil. 

“Who knows princess, maybe you’ll be surprised at your surplus of dance partners,” I smirk knowingly. 

“I’m sure Eris will beat them all off with a stick,” she huffs leaning against the table, picking at her nails. 

“Then he should talk to Rhys first and get a few pointers,”  I laughed leaning against the table next to her. 

"Or better yet, maybe I'll bring a stick to fend them off myself," she quips, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

With a shared laugh, we lingered in the moment, finding solace in each other's company before the looming specter of tomorrow's ball cast its shadow over us once more.

Part 5

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21,  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup

#cassian smut #cassian x you #cassian acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x reader smut #rhysand acotar #rhysand smut #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand fluff #rhysand angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #azriel x you #azriel smut #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[avocado-writing]

Hi bestie. I would love some angst with Astarion and Tav(reader) where a shape changer turns into one of them to hurt the other and the aftermath of the hurt and the victim convinced it was real until they talk it through and make up? Sorry if that didnt really make sense

notes: none! just some angst set start of act 3. rating: T

pairing: Astarion x reader

You have a horrid feeling in the pit of your stomach as Astarion appears before you. Withers senses something in the air, something loaded, and decides to turn and count his coin; he doesn’t want to interrupt what’s about to come. 

Or more likely he doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. 

The way Astarion is staring at you… gods. You feel a tight grip in your chest as a thousand emotions flit over his face. Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Confusion. Before you can open your mouth he shoves past you, making a beeline for his tent. 

“Astarion, wait - !”

He doesn’t, so you have to jog a little to keep up. Go to put a hand on his arm, think better of it. Don’t want to upset him any further with unwanted physical touch. 

“Please - ”

“Oh, now you want to talk? Suddenly changed your mind after treating me like a bloody pincushion? I thought you were…” he trails off for a second, before finishing with, “I’ve got nothing to say to you,” he sneers, eyes solidly focussed in front of him, acting as if you weren’t even there. 

That stings. But of course he’s angry, he doesn’t know the whole story. You battle through the hurt and manage to stand in front of him, blocking his path and finally getting him to meet your gaze. 

“It wasn’t me! It was a gods-damned Doppelganger!”

He stops. Good. That got his attention.  

Your mind flits back to the other night, the horrid scene as your adventuring party for the day made it back to camp, when you figured all your companions were asleep - a horrid, faux-copy of you with a deadly blade sunk deep into your vampire’s neck. Given the secluded nature of the spot, the “two of you” may have been in the middle of a private moment. He was ripped open from several stab wounds, pale body bathed in garnet blood, and after a loud fight woke the rest of the camp… 

Well. After that everyone worked on bringing him back as quickly as possible, even though you were shaking from shock and sobs. 

Astarion searches your face. He’s looking for a tell. He’s looking for the slightest indication that you actually were the one tearing him to pieces. You want to tell him how stupid that is. Of course you’d never hurt him, change your mind and try to dispose of him in the worst way you could (and if you did, why bring him back?) You’d hoped he’d trusted you more than that. But, being in Baldur’s Gate, with Cazador so close… well, it’s no wonder that nerves are frayed. Logic has gone out the window until he can be forced to hear it.

“It must have been Orin. You know how she’s been hounding us. She probably saw how close we were, and decided to… well, try to hit us where it would hurt. And I hate it. I hate that she used my body to trick you like that.”

Ah. That he understands. You can see Astarion turn this over in his mind, and with a small exhale he releases all the tension in his body. The obvious relief is quickly plastered over with a light laugh and the affectation of his usual laissez-faire attitude. 

“Oh. Well. Don’t I look like quite the fool, hmm? You know what they say about assumptions. They make an ass of you and… well, I’d say me, but usually that’s usually a rather difficult accomplishment.”

He’s trying to hide how genuinely hurt he was. The idea that you could turn on him broke him a little, you think. That you’d use him and discard him so casually… it breaks your heart. Carefully you reach out to take his hand. You feel him flinch just a tiny bit but he accepts the gesture. 

“I’m so sorry she got to you. I won’t let it happen again. I’d never, ever hurt you, Astarion. You know that I…”

The end of that sentence hangs between you, heavy, pregnant. But thankfully, rather than chasing the end of it, Astarion pulls you to him. His arms wrap around you and you feel the softness in his embrace. 

“I know. I know you do.”

And you hold him. Knowing you’d move the cosmos to keep him safe. 

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #my writing #Request

[walosiiii]

bad kitty...

pairing :: jealous dom!shen quanrui x sub brat!male reader

genre :: smut

tw :: top!ricky, 10th member!reader, unprotected sex ( remember to use protection ), pet play, sir/master kink, degradation, slight breeding kink, mentions of zhang hao x male reder, use of the words "slut" "whore and "good boy", hair pulling, overstimulation, ricky fucking the reader till he cant speak, aftercare

it was supposed to be a joke.

you were filming a variety show with your members, you being bored decided to tease hao while the other members were talking about god knows what, touching his thigh, holding his head. however you didnt know the whole time ricky was watching from the sidelines, eyes darkening when he saw the scene unfold in front of him. you didn't even notice his glare until the filming was over and you guys were back at the dorms, you tried to give a quick goodbye to hao and the others however before you could say anything you were dragged into you and rickys shared dorm.

he threw you onto the bed "you think youre funny, huh?" he said, glaring down at you, you were about to respond when you were interrupted, "don't talk" he commanded. "clothes off now", "w-what" you said looking down "did i stutter y/n" you scrambled to take off your clothes, throwing them onto the floor and looking back at him, he was just staring at you, eyes dark. "turn around and get on your hands and knees" he ordered, "ricky i-" he cut you off grabbing a fist full of your hair yanking your face towards him, "is that my name?" he said "n-no sir" he let your hair go and went into your guys closet grabbing a box, placing it on the nightstand next to the bed, "i saw what you were doing" he said voice deep. "flirting with him, acting like a whore" he stoped a minute "did i teach my kitty to be a whore?" he said opening the box and getting out a collar and a leash.

 "no not the collar, ill be a good boy i promise" you pleaded however this didnt stop him from putting it on you, yanking on it making you choke a bit, "i think my kitty needs to be reminded who they belong to"

he grabbed your waist flipping you over, he started by kissing all over your neck leaving bites all over, slowly going lower, he sucked on your nipples making them hard, "s-sir please" you moaned, he bit down harshly on one making you let out a small yelp, he started kissing down your stomach, avoiding your cock.

"sir, i need you" you said, he let out a laugh "you need me huh?" he said "well maybe you shouldve thought about that before whoring yourself out for some cock" he slapped your cock with his hand smiling when he saw you flinch and let out a sob, "maybe if you beg ill fuck you" he said, you were desperate "please, please sir fuck me, please, im yours" you said starting to cry, he smiled grabbing the lube squirting some on his fingers and spreading your legs, rubbing around your hole. he stuck a finger in, "such a whore, so hard for me, are you master's little whore?" he asked, "please sir just fuck me, please" you cried, ignoring his words, he took his finger out pulling the leash once again making you choke, "answer the fucking question" he yelled "yes sir im a whore, im master's little slut" you cried, tears rolling down your cheeks, "that's a good boy" he said.

he took his clothes off pumping his cock a few times, he took the lube squirting more before lathering it on his cock, after hes done he then slips his finger back in your hole this time adding another.

he fingered you open, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, after a few minutes he pulled his fingers out, he put his cock up to your hole, teasing the tip. he slowly pushed in, bottoming out. he stayed still waiting for a moment for you to adjust, after a few seconds he started moving. going fast and hard, making sure you could feel him everywhere, the feeling of the collar on your neck was overwhelming.

 "sir take the collar off it hurts, ill be a good boy p-promise!" you said crying, "maybe next time kitty" he said thrusting hard into your hole, you let out a moan.

he wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing, "im gonna cum" you said, "cum for your master" he said pulling on the leash, you came letting out a moan and tears falling down your face, you tightened around him, "gonna fill my kitty with my cum, make everyone know who he belongs to" he said fucking into you even harder, you were overstimulated, sobbing and whimpering. "im gonna cum in you, breed my slut" he moaned. after a few seconds he was cumming in you, that didnt stop him from pounding into your hole ruthlessly ignoring your pleads and sobs.

after a minute he was cumming again, you were so overstimulated, so sensitive. he continued thrusting grabbing your oversensitive cock jerking it harshley, "sir its too much, its too much, please sir stop" you cried. after a few thrusts you came again, it hurt, tears streaming down your face. "good boy" ricky said "good kitty" he kissed your forehead, slowing his pace down until he finally stopped. 

he took his cock out of your hole, watching the cum leak out, you were exhausted. "y/n are you ok?" he asked, you were quiet, "hey its ok" he said taking off the collar, he kissed you passionately, "can you sit for me?" he asked, you did what he asked, "i-i" you couldnt speak, "it's ok, it's ok. how about a bath and we can cuddle" he suggested, you just nodded, he got up picking you up bridal style and taking you to the bathroom and starting a bath, putting you down in it. him following in soon after.

little did you know the whole time hao was in his room playing with himself to your moans and pleads, wishing it was him who was causing you to cry, and not ricky.

( 0.9k )

©jackielynn

#ricky x male reader #shen quanrui x male reader #x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader smut #kpop x male reader #zb1 #zerobaseone #ricky #shen quanrui #kpop male reader #zb1 smut #jaxs.zb1 #jaxs.masterlist #jaxs.shenquanrui #zb1 x male reader

[dearharriet]

hello! Congratulations on reaching 150 followers milestone! Really deserved, girly!

Can I get a🍸with Remus Lupin + Lovers Rock? Thank you so much!

hi!! i’m so sorry this took me so long my love, i’ve had the busiest weekend 😭 thank you sm for the request, i hope you like it! <3 (wc: 859) (cw: implied/attempted use of a roofie/date-rape drug)

If you were less drunk, you’d be abashed about flirting so openly in front of Remus, but you’re not. He’s watching you lean into the man’s advances from the bar booth you’re both sitting in, a mean look brewing behind his eyes. You’re praying to god it’s jealousy. At least then he’d feel something for you.

“Real pretty get-up you’ve got on, babe,” the guy is saying, and you’re just sober enough to know he’s staring at your chest as he says it.

“Looks even better on the floor,” you tell him. It’s a cheap response, but he perks up anyway. Remus spins his beer on the sticky booth table, sighing irritably.

The stranger has a silky smooth voice, one that seems to smooth over other, less admirable traits in your mind. He says, “I can make that happen,” and you hear a promise, not a boast. You also don’t notice in his towering over you that he’s tampering with your drink.

Remus isn’t nearly as entranced. He’s on his feet in a second, whipping the man away from you by the collar of his button-up shirt.

“Hey—?”

Cutting him off with a vicious shove, Remus bites, “fuck off out of here. I know what you are.”

You stand then on wobbly legs, approaching the growing scene. Remus was clearly jealous, but you never assumed he was the violent type. He looks ready to crack teeth at this point, and the man still hasn’t left.

“Remus, what—?”

He turns to you with wild eyes, holding up a hand to keep you at bay.

“You stay there,” he says, and the anger he held for the man has ebbed away. He points to your cocktail on the table. “Don’t drink that, okay?”

Blinking, you frown at him. Something about his behavior makes you uneasy, but he’s your friend. You’d trust him over any stranger.

“Hey,” he snaps, demanding your hazy attention. “Did you hear me? Don’t—”

“Don’t drink it.” You nod.

From there all you can do is watch him shred the poor guy apart until Sirius and James finally notice something is wrong from their place at the bar. By then you have a pretty good idea what happened, and you feel sick to your stomach thinking about it.

James keeps you company while Sirius and Remus get the guy thrown out on his ass, and then they both reconvene at your shared booth. Most of the girls have come to see what happened, too, but Remus shooes most everyone away.

“Fucking pig,” Marlene mumbles, petting your hair gently before leaving a small kiss there. She looks to one of the boys, though you’re too busy picking at your nails to know which one. “I can make sure she gets home?”

“I’ve got her,” he replies, and you’d know Remus’ voice anywhere.

Marlene and the other two boys seem to accept this fact easily, though Sirius stops Remus before leaving.

“Go easy, yeah?” he says. “It wasn’t her fault.”

Remus doesn’t reply, but when he takes James’ place beside you his eyes are much calmer than before.

“Hi, dovey.” His hand comes up to rub your back. “You ready to go home?”

Sniffing, you nod slowly, still quite drunk and lethargic. Remus helps you out of the booth, carting you to the door with careful touches.

“It’s okay, Remus,” you assert, feeling more embarrassed by everyone’s worrying than anything now. “You’re not going to hurt me. I’m fine.”

Remus looks down at you with conflict coating his features.

“That was really close, Y/N. I almost didn’t see him do it.”

“But you did,” you correct. “And thank you, by the way.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. Not for that.”

Pushing the bar door open, he ushers you out into the mild night. It’s not cold, but his arm slung protectively over your shoulders is a relief anyways. Outside the safety of the bar, the man might be lurking somewhere. The thought makes you curl further into Remus, shivering.

“Remus?”

You can tell he’s in the same line of thought as you, because his head is on a swivel, checking behind you periodically. He hums in response to your question.

“If we’re going to my place, would you stay with me? In case he’s following us.”

You’d like to tell yourself the man wouldn’t, but you’re not sure you can put anything past him. Again, Remus appears to think the same.

“‘Course. I'll probably sleep better that way, anyways.”

In your drunken mood, you can’t help the way your heart squeezes at Remus’ doting. It’s a fiery feeling, to be cared for as if you’re an extension of himself, to have witnessed the sharpness of his affection in real time. It’s the barest human decency, but you suspect it was rooted in a much more complex emotion. Or perhaps that’s wishful thinking.

“Okay,” is what you finally say, flagging your thoughts for a later date, when less pressing matters than your safety are on the table. For tonight, it’s enough to let Remus walk you home, and to fall asleep under the warm blanket of his protection.

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

#harriet’s 150 celebration #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus john lupin #request #thank you for requesting! #remus lupin songfic #marauders hurt/comfort #remus lupin hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

[teatreeoilll]

𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐑𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 (𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐗 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . •

w/c - 9k content - MDNI! 18 + , minors and ageless blogs do not interact! fem!reader, evil!reader, a lot of plot with porn, much hurt, much angst, cussing, mention of drinking and smoking, VERY shitty parenting, child abuse, character death but not one of the mains, manipulative themes, i invented suguru's parents names, did i say much hurt? everyone's in their early twenties, cellist!Geto, saxophonist!Gojo, violinist!reader, shitty!everyone, kinda dark really i guess so please read at your own discretion, I'm sorry, really

a/n - there will probs be a second part based on the ending, if my back will ever stop hurting from being hunched over my laptop for four days straight writing this insanity.

Dedicated to the dear @telvess who read every scene like five times while I wrote and re-wrote this.

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° .•

Jealousy. As a result of your young age, you couldn't put it into words quite yet, but you felt it - choking up your dry throat as your father held your head steady with his fingers digging deep into your scalp to make sure your head wouldn't move an inch.

"Look, child," he said, "really look."

"M-My head, Dad," you sniffled, "It hurts."

You peered through the tiny crack in the large white doors into an empty rehearsal room. Bare walls, empty chairs - all but one, where a young boy sat in the middle, dragging his bow across the strings of a cello like it would be the last thing he does in his life. He did it fervently, desperately, repeatedly over the strings to rumble the sounds through the room. His brows furrowed. His raven black hair was a cluster of strands jolting up and falling on his face each time he moved. It made him look exactly like what you felt - electrified.

Your jaw slacked, and your heart raced within the confines of your chest.

"You see, child?" Your father's words lingered above your head, "Can you finally hear what beauty sounds like?"

You heard, and it haunted you.

-

When he's playing, anyone would agree that Geto Suguru is breathtaking. Below the cuffs of his white button-down are pale hands, guiding long, strained fingers to move feverishly across the fingerboard. Above them, his face, a marble carving with half-lidded eyes, pointed idly at his cello.

Weary music for weary people, he thinks, lifting his gaze just enough to meet the dull faces with greying hair filling the large hall. Their constipated expressions stare back at him. They're just waiting for the cue to clap, although he doesn't mind - not as long as each note of the concerto* he played was perfect.

And by god, do they clap. A standing ovation, long enough to escort him in his path to the stage exit, loud enough for the echoes to linger as he greets the tall, blue-eyed man waiting for him there and frenzied enough to make your knees buckle under the tight fabric of your tailored evening dress.

"It was a good one," the blue-eyed man says, "as far as alarm clock music goes, that is."

"Funny how you keep calling it that, Satoru," Geto chastises, his fingers undoing the clasps of his cello case, "but you're always on the verge of falling asleep when you hear it."

Oh, you think, fiddling with the violin in your hands, so that's Gojo Satoru. Everyone knew who he was; the Gojo family name was arrogantly plastered on the walls of every concert hall in the city, including the one you were about to play in now.

Your tremble. You can't help it - that standing ovation set the bar so high you fear the bow in your hands might snap from the intensity of your grip. But it doesn't, and someone briefly introduces your name on stage.

You glance at the two men, catching Geto's uninterested expression. Your stomach churns. The dignified way it graces his annoyingly good-looking features makes your muscles tense; it's as if he's exhausted from doing the crowd a favor by allowing them to worship his playing.

Arrogant fucker. You think, and he nods at you stiffly, acknowledging the misfortune of performing after him.

As you drag your feet across the polished floor, you can only hear the sound of your own erratic breathing. "Breathe in, breathe out," you mutter under your breath as your shaking knees give the last of their strength to get you to the center stage.

And then a twitch, a breath hitch, and a loud thud.

The room hums with gasps for an instant before going silent again, and every eye in the vicinity watches you lay splayed across the wooden floor.

The shame burns in your cheeks, rushing through your face down to warm your aching body. As a desperate escape you turn your head away from the crowd, only to catch in the corner of your eye the two men still standing at the stage exit.

Don't look at me. Don't look at me. Don't look at me.

"Oof," Gojo huffs, wincing at the sight as he turns to his friend, "Come on, we'll be late if we don't head out now."

Like looking at a trainwreck, Geto's unable to turn away. His lips purse; what a pity.

The silence grew, and you knew you must do something - anything to let this moment pass. You push yourself up, throwing a quick glance at your violin, a string snapped, fuck. "I hope -," you grunt, your voice hoarse from disuse, "I hope Rachmaninoff* gets the same gasps." A wave of suppressed chuckles and claps gushes around you. Oh, thank god.

Your cheeks are still hot, and the first stroke of your bow is hesitant, just a soft flick of the wrist to see if the three remaining strings are still in tune. Is this a good idea? But the crowd's anticipating gaze burns through you, rendering you unable to move. You focus on replacing the missing notes and play the piece - with jagged strokes coming from your still shaking hands, some notes cut it, but just barely.

Gojo nudges his friend's shoulder, "Hey, I said we'll be late."

Geto's pursed lips open lightly, his dark eyes fix intently on your bow, "Hmm?" He hums at his friend's words, dragging him back from his thoughts.

a/n - * - Bach's Cello Suite in C Minor, Sarabande. * - Rachmaninoff's Prelude in G minor, originally for piano, transcribed for violin.

-

"A Jazz club?" you furrow your brows at the music and the tang of smoke already reaching you from the narrow entrance hall.

You'd only met Shoko a few short weeks ago when college started, and she quickly became your only friend - as often happens to two people in a room who prefer to be alone.

"Yes, my friend's playing - you'll hate him," she says. Shoko has that thing where she doesn't change her tone when she says something sarcastic, so you're stuck nodding at her words with an uncomfortable grin on your face.

She tugs you by the sleeve of your shirt, guiding you down the stairs and through the prematurely drunken crowd that eagerly awaits what would be the third song of the evening.

"This would never pass in our concerts," you mutter under your breath, although you kind of wish it did as you look at the people laughing, reaching for another drink, huffing smoke from their mouths while making idle chatter as the players take a short break between songs.

A bright, warm note pierces the room, and like an obedient platoon to an officer's 'attention,' all the eyes fall back on stage. The white-haired man under the mellow spotlight makes a swift move to wipe the mouthpiece of his saxophone before returning it to his lips and blowing into it again - this time, a cue for the drummer, who starts a ruthless pace on his cymbals.

"If jazz is a god," Gojo's voice rings through the room, "then the saxophone is its altar."

How could he say that with a straight face? You think, unable to take your eyes off his clearly pretentious demeanor that would be borderline comical if it wasn't redeemed by his outstandingly handsome face, from the rolled-up sleeves and undone button of his blue dress shirt to the round sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he looks like pure sin.

"The Voice of Chunk*," he announces the piece and the room booms with shouts of excitement as the saxophone howls its first long and angelic Mi.

By the time the set ends, Gojo's a mess. A dusty red color flushes his pale cheeks as he pants, a mad gleam in his eyes when he looks at the crowd, which only shouts for another encore. He wipes the sweat off his brow and leaves the stage without a word.

Shoko drags you down to an empty table near the stage, a cigarette propped between her lips as she utters, "Ah," to the sound of a squeaking chair, which Gojo Satoru plops on, splaying his limbs on the wood.

He turns to Shoko, pointing a thumb at you, "Your friend?"

"Mhmm," Shoko confirms, "(Name)." She takes a sip of her cheap beer.

Perpetually assuming everyone already knew him, Satoru Gojo doesn't introduce himself. "What'd you think?" He asks.

"It was very good," you say, and mean it. He wasn't humble, but as far as performances go, he didn't need to be.

"Good?" He turns back to Shoko, looking at her like a wounded puppy, "Shoko.."

"She did say very, Satoru." Shoko sighs, "He hates the word good."

Your breath hitches as Gojo lays a large hand on your thigh, "Calling jazz good is terrible." He says, "It means it did nothing to you. Even calling it horrifying is a much better choice."

Another chair squeaks in your proximity, and Gojo removes the hand from your thigh to place it on the table, "Suguru!" He exclaims. "How was it?"

God, what's he doing here?

"Horrifying," Geto smirks at his friend.

His dark eyes turn to you as he says, "Geto Suguru," and extends a large, calloused palm, which you hesitantly shake. The skin contact makes you shudder. His eyes narrow, "Have we met before?"

The truth is - Geto knows rather well that you have met before. He spent two days after the concert thinking about your figure lying on the wooden floor, and it wasn't for the curve of your ass that pointed towards him, although that didn't escape his thoughts either. His mind raced with thoughts of how quickly you bounced back from your fall, made a joke, and started playing. Could it really be so easy?

"Oh - maybe it's - uh," you babble, your mind already trying to devise an excuse to leave.

"Ah, I know!" Gojo chimes in, "It's our tumbling violinist," he chuckles, "I never forget a girl after I've seen her on all fours."

Geto raises an eyebrow. "We both know that's hardly true."

You stare at Shoko with desperate eyes pleading for a change in topic. She puts down her drink, "Where were you Suguru? I didn't see you the entire gig." Thank god.

"Just there," Geto motions to the side of the bar, where a beautiful light-haired girl sips on a drink, "I've seen him play plenty of times."

I should be polite. "Oh, so you like jazz?" You ask.

Gojo chuckles, removing his sunglasses to reveal clear sky-blue eyes, "Entertain our guest, Suguru."

Geto leans back, arms crossed over his chest, and even his words sound carefully rehearsed - as if he's being interviewed, "It's not that I don't like it. There's just no merit to it." Against your wishes, you meet his gaze, restraining yourself from rolling your eyes at him. "It's mostly improvisation. Not one jazz piece stays the same over time - it blatantly disregards why we value music. Can you imagine someone changing even one note in Rachmaninoff's preludes?"

Is he talking about the ones I played?

Geto leans back, "And that's without mentioning the mistakes."

You furrow your brows, and your chest tightens at his words, "The mistakes?"

"Suguru's just jealous," Gojo smirks, and his arm snakes around your shoulders, "because I've got an ability he doesn't. I like to call it blue." His other hand traces lines across the wooden table, making an invisible note staff, "You see, in jazz, there's no such thing as a mistake. It's considered beautiful even if you play a note a bit too harsh or out of key. They're called blue notes."

"Well, a mistake is just a mistake, isn't it?" You lie, too proud to admit you were ashamed of the embarrassing performance they witnessed, "You shouldn't be proud or overcritical of it - it just is."

"It's a good philosophy," Geto says softly, and a faint smile appears on his lips, it makes sense now, "It works well if you just play for fun."

A decade of rigorous violin practice flashes before your eyes, the callouses on your fingers you were teased for as a child, and he dares to say it's for fun?

Your cheeks heat up, "Well, what do you play for? Suffering?"

"Perfection," he answers. Prick.

"Perfection?" You sneer, clenching your jaw, "Then what about improvisation?"

"Leave that vice for the jazz musicians." He says, and his expression suddenly changes, "I'm sorry, I know you improvised in your Rachmaninoff; you did the best you could - considering." He means it earnestly.

The veins throb in your forehead, Is he pitying me?

Gojo laughs, "If you keep bickering, I won't remain the star of the show tonight," and you notice the not-so-discreet looks of the people at the other tables ogling you.

"It's getting kind of late anyway," Shoko says, smothering her cigarette butt against the ashtray's bottom, "Why don't we go before we miss the train?"

"I'll give you a lift," Geto says, and you stare at Shoko, hoping that your wide, begging eyes will lead her to decline, "Come on," He adds, standing up, "It's raining outside, and our violinist can slip up even on dry flooring."

a/n - * - Voice of Chunk, The Lounge Lizards, 1988

-

"I'll see you in school," You say to Shoko, who exits the back seat of the silver Toyota, leaving nothing but a bitter smell of smoke and a long, strained silence lingering in the car.

"Which way?" Geto points to a fork in the road.

"Left, then straight for a while." And could you be so kind as to crash us into the nearest wall? You chuckle inside your head.

He turns his head as if he heard you, "So, a mistake is just a mistake, is it?"

And your fists clench momentarily, their tension softened only by the quiet, sweet sound of Samuel Barber* playing through the radio, weaving its melody with the heavy pounding of rain on the car roof, "Well, if you dwell on them too much, you're not going to have any time left to fix them." You wish you meant it.

He ponders silently before asking, "How'd you start playing?"

Is he only asking to make a snide remark? You decide to keep your answer curt. "My father gave me his violin when I was young."

The windscreen wipers work full force to make the dark road ahead visible, "My mother never let me touch her cello," he says, his unbothered tone now laced with somber notes, "I hated the thing."

The ache in your chest is almost unbearable, your fingers dig into the fabric of your trousers. He hated it, and he still plays like that?

"Then why play?" You inquire, watching the streetlights' reflections glint in his dark eyes.

Because it matters, it has to matter.

He laughs, and you can't help but notice how his face softens when he does, "It pays for college," a speck of red tint dusts his cheeks, and a strange pull flares in your chest at his defenseless look, "Don't I look like a scholarship boy?"

"Maybe if I squint," you say as he turns to look at you. You narrow your eyes, "Nope, can't see it," and he laughs again, making the remnants of alcohol turn in your stomach.

When you arrive, you step out of the car and he watches you disappear into the building's front, his fingers tapping restlessly on the wheel. A weak, burning sensation plagued the muscles around his jaw; were they really so unaccustomed to laughing?

a/n - * - Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings, Op.11

-

15 years ago

The Geto residence was an ever-tastefully decorated one-story house in the rural areas outside Tokyo, always graced by the echoing sounds of an Italian-made cello. Geto Suguru himself was a wide-eyed child, six years old, and already praised for being prematurely intelligent by his parents' arrogant friends; "Your little Suguru is so clever," one of his mother's friends said, leaning over the dinner table to tug mercilessly on his cheek, "I bet he'd skip a grade as soon as he starts school, don't you think, Kieko?"

To which his mother only hummed in response, quickly diverting the subject, "The Bolshoi* is performing in the city next month. Will you come?"

Suguru didn't mind these things much. He wasn't the kind of child to look for praise; he didn't care for it from strangers' mouths and never knew the delight of hearing it come out of his mother's ever-pursed lips.

The next morning, Kieko Geto sat on a sturdy, padded stool and played with unwavering concentration until the midday sun sipped through the windows, blinding her eyes. Only then did she stop, turning back to notice her son's inquisitive gaze peering from the doorway.

"Come," she instructed, and Suguru took a few hesitant steps to the middle of the room. His mother positioned the cello upright, the wooden beast towering over him as she pressed a flat palm to the middle of the fingerboard, measuring his height against it. "One day," she said, "you'll be big enough to play it, Suguru."

A phone rang, and his mother stepped out. Suguru stood a long while staring at the instrument that leaned lazily against the wall. One day - he didn't want to wait for some vague, distant day, and his arm itched with impulse.

Suguru lifted the bow from the stool, ramming it violently across the strings. It made such a horrendous sound that he thought for a moment he hurt it, and now the thing was howling in pain.

"Suguru!" his mother shrieked as she shoved him out of the way, "What did you do?" Her pale fingers grazed the cello, searching for new marks on the wood.

The bow in her hand glinted like a Katana under the sunlight as she swung it at his head.

The next few minutes were a blur. Suguru guessed he screamed since his father stormed into the room, pushing him to stand behind his back. His eyes were fixed on the creases on the back of his father's shirt, changing their shape like sand dunes as the man's arms moved frantically through the air as if he were conducting his own shouts.

The boy placed a hand on his forehead. "Dad," he tugged hesitantly on the creases, leaving red stains on the pale blue shirt, "Dad."

a/n - * - The Bolshoi Ballet

-

A failed poet turned local journalist once described Geto Suguru's playing as having a gut-wrenching elegance, and as you stood at the large doors leading to the conservatory's hall, you couldn't help but hear what he meant. Angelic strokes on the rumbling strings, and each note is -

"Shit," he cusses, dragging the bow harshly along the strings as if it could saw the instrument in half if he tried hard enough. Even as he does so, he can't seem to make it sound bad. The bow drops on the floor with a hollow thud, and he runs a defeated hand through his hair, brushing back a long black strand to reveal a two-inch, pale scar on the side of his forehead.

He lifts his gaze up, noticing you standing by the door. How long has she stood there? "Violinst," he says. "Come to practice?"

Seeing him laugh a few days ago must have been a figment of your imagination. "Yes," you utter.

"It's occupied until six."

You make your way to the low stage through the aisle between the empty rows of seats, "It's ten past six," you remark, and Geto glances at the clock, frowning at it like it broke a long-standing promise.

You reach the stage, putting your violin case on the still-warm seat of the lone chair in the middle. You shudder at the warmth, watching Geto lift the massive cello case as his other hand reaches into his pocket, taking out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, "You want one?" he asks, holding it open.

You shake your head, "Thank you."

He puts one smoke between his lips, patting down his pockets, "Got a light?"

You shake your head again, "Sorry."

He shrugs, his eyes fixing on the violin in your hand, and you notice the slight puffiness under his eyes. "Not my day, I guess." And it's a long gaping silence while he puts the cigarette back in the pack, "Do you mind if I stay?"

"No," Yes. "But if you scrunch your nose at my mistakes, you leave."

"I don't scrunch my nose," he retorts.

"You do."

Geto runs a long finger along the bridge of his nose down to the tip, leaning forward slightly to meet your eyes, "Straight as an arrow," he says without a smile, and you turn red at the sudden proximity, fixing your gaze on the shiny white floor beneath your feet.

"Alright then," you mumble.

Geto sits in the front row, reclining on the backrest of the crimson-colored seat with his hands resting on his spread thighs while his cello case leans on the seat next to him like a second observer. You might as well put on a burlesque show from how naked you feel under his steady gaze.

You drag the bow across the strings, echoing a dissonant tone throughout the room.

"Are you testing me?" He says with a smug smile plastered on his lips, but you hoped for a heartfelt one instead.

"Mhmm," you hum, taking a few steps forward to the verge of the stage, where you take a seat with your legs dangling from the edge, "You passed." and he chuckles, soft and low.

As you begin to play, Geto gets up from his seat to pace back and forth along the aisle, his brows furrowed and his thumb pressed against his lips while he listens to the music.

Your muscles strain, bracing themselves for the suite's climax, now's the hard part, you think, letting out a frustrated huff as your eyes fix on Geto. You miss the first note.

He halts, and your bow leaves the strings as you await his reaction in the irksome silence of the hall.

For a moment, he's desperate. Desperate for you to do what he thought was an almost inhuman feat after such a mistake.

He takes a few steps closer, towering over you while his eyes stare intently into yours, "Keep playing," he demands.

Your breath hitches as you watch him slowly lower himself to his knees beneath you. He places large, calloused palms on your knees, eagerly spreading your legs while his eyes are still honed on your face, relishing in the red flush burning your cheeks. He runs a hand under your skirt, grazing your thigh with long, rough fingers, a hint of a smile on his lips when he hears your breathless gasps, "Keep playing," he repeats.

Smile, god, you hated that smile.

You play a few jagged notes before your arms give in, and you place the violin on the floor with a soft clunk. Your now free hands grasp his hair, freeing it from his neatly tied bun to fall down his shoulders.

"Eager girl," he mutters, tracing his finger along your wet panties, and you tug harder at his hair. I'm the eager one?

"Q-Quit teasing," you stammer as he yanks you closer to the edge of the stage, pulling off your panties with a swift move. You shudder as his warm breath fans over your exposed cunt, panting heavily as his fingers dig deep into your thighs.

"Hmm?" He murmurs, placing soft kisses against your inner thighs, letting his teeth graze the skin but stopping every time right before he reaches your soaked pussy. Just do it, for the love of god, just do it.

You're reduced to a quivering mess, fighting the urge to push his head into your wetness, "Please," you whimper breathlessly, frowning at the loss of your pride under his touch, "p-please stop teasing," and you finally feel his tongue lick a stripe up your clit as he grunts softly at your taste.

"Good girl," he groans out, letting his lips wrap around your bud, burying his face so deep in your cunt you feel his nose rub against your clit while he rasps out a soft "Fuck," that sends shivers up your spine.

He was messy, fervent, eager as his tongue worked on your clit, and you grew dizzy at the sight of the usually calm and collected man disheveled and red-faced between your legs, moaning out his name as you felt yourself clench against his lips, "S-Suguru, fuck -."

He'd never heard his name come out of your lips before, but this was a better first time than he could imagine. He grew unbearably hard in his jeans, rutting against thin air almost instinctively every time you rolled your hips into his face, "Say it again," he demands, and his deep voice sends a rush of heat to your face.

Can he do it? Can he make you even more of a mess on his fingers? Can he watch while you stutter his name, while your face is a beautiful flushed mixture of those blunders he loved seeing you make?

"Suguru," you look at him through glazed eyes, and he frees the hand that grabbed your thigh to slide two skilled fingers into your soaked cunt, "S-Suguru," you whimper out when they sink deeper, pumping into your sweet spot with a harsh pace.

A drunk smile grazes his lips when you clench against his fingers. It takes him all his strength to pull away from your cunt, "You want more, princess?" He teased, fingers pumping lazily into you.

You manage to whine a quiet, "Y-Yes."

"Then ask," he coos, his smile turning into a devilish grin, and you squirm at the loss of his tongue, clutching his hair tighter.

"Please, Suguru," you breathe. How many times will he put me through this? And your muscles contract when he flicks his tongue over your cunt again, "p-please, Suguru - I'm - " you babble as he resumes his harsh pace, your thighs closing on his head, hips rutting desperately for some more sweet friction against his tongue.

"Please, fuck - " you moan, arching your back. His fingers still push into you as he groans at the taste of your wetness gushing on his tongue, licking it hungrily while you pant almost inaudible whispers of his name, and he thinks he might come from the sweet sound of your voice alone.

His lips finally let go of your clit. He pushes himself up from his knees to face you, his mouth wet with your essence as he brushes his lips against yours. Barely a kiss, but you grow dizzy anyhow, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, running your other hand along his T-shirt-clad stomach down to the bulge in his jeans.

"No," he utters. No?

"Huh?" Your brows furrow, "Do you want me to take you out for a cup of coffee first?" It was supposed to be a thought, shit.

He laughs, and you watch the lines form in the corners of his eyes, "Could be nice," he says, "besides, it's your rehearsal hours; don't you want to practice?"

"Not really," you grumble, "You can use them if you like." You reach down to pick up your panties from the floor where he discarded them, only to see him grab them first.

"I could," he muses aloud, "I'm playing the Grand Hall opening in a few weeks," and he catches your gaze for a second, "but I'd rather watch you play." And you blush as he tucks your panties into the front pocket of his jeans, "You'll get them later," he says, "If you're good."

"If I'm good?" You furrow your brows, "If I don't make any mistakes, you mean."

"No," he asserts, his words a bit loud, catching you off-guard as you fumble for your violin, "If you're good."

After you refuse his ride home, it's a long walk of shame back to your apartment. You feel as though your pride was left in his pocket together with your underwear, but maybe, just maybe, you'll make something good come out of it.

-

"Dad put it - " Suguru's arm held his father's in a tight grip across the coffee shop's table, urging it to release the silver spoon in his hand, "Put it back, please."

"They've got plenty," his father barks, his eyes darting around to observe the busy staff of the cafe while he hides the spoon carefully in his bag.

Suguru lets out a weary sigh, focusing on the swirling cream in his coffee mug, "So do you," he says, the taste of stale regret mixing in with his drink when he lifts it to his mouth.

"Eh?" His father's eyebrows knit together, wrinkles forming under his five o'clock shadow when his lips purse, "You here to judge me, boy?"

Suguru takes a sip from his coffee but finds it stuck bitterly in his throat under his father's hostile stare.

"Thought so," the man says, his dirty fingernails tapping on the wooden table as he adds, "Now, will you finally quit fooling around with that thing?"

"I don't know, Dad," Suguru chokes out.

"She croaked this morning, the bitch. She won't come to see you play now, would she?"

Suguru's eyes widen, his hands quivering, pads of his fingers digging into the scortching coffee mug, threatening to tumble the liquid over the rim, "What?"

"Croaked, gone, dead. She left you that cursed cello of hers," his father eyes the sugar dispenser on the table, brushing his fingertips on it, "So you'll sell it. And give the money to your father," his shoulders draw back, he's proud, "for all the things he did for you, yes?"

"I don't know, Dad," Suguru mutters.

The man's agitated expression deepens the wrinkles on his forehead, "'I don't know Dad," his father mocked, "I'll tell you what you need to know. I took you away from that vicious whore when she'd done your face in with her bow, and you've never thanked me once, just begged me to buy you a damn cello when you knew that all our money was left in that house." A brute splatter of spit lands on the table as he sneers, "And I did, didn't I? Bought you the damn thing, drove you around with it like some chauffeur. Where's my thanks? Eh, brat? Where's my money?"

The man raises his arm, and a young, blonde waitress appears momentarily by their table, all smiles when she says, "The check, sir?"

"Yes," Suguru's father says, the chair under him screeching as he gets up, "My son will pay."

-

For hours now he'd been contemplating where to go. Who he wanted to see. but when Geto finally gets to your door, his face still flushes with the soft pink of an irredeemable shame while his urgent, stiff knuckles pound on the door. He knew you were home. He wasn't a brute - he texted to check, but he still couldn't calm the restless ache burning in his chest.

When you open the door, there's no hello, just the unyielding feeling of his body flat against yours as he presses sloppy kisses along your jaw, groaning when his teeth graze the tender skin of your neck, "Fuck," his breath fans over you neck as he pants out the words, "you smell sweet."

His face lingers in the crook of your neck, relishing in the warmth like a cold-blooded animal who'd die without the heat. His fingers dig into your thighs so harshly you fear they might bruise them as he lifts you up, "Smell so fucking sweet - " he keeps muttering under his breath as your legs wrap around his waist, your hands clinging to the muscles on his back to keep your balance.

"Suguru," you pant when he drops you on the bed, noticing the unfamiliar ruthless look in his eyes, hardly the same one you saw between your legs a few days ago, "Did something - "

"D'you want to stop and talk?" He chuckles, large, warm hands running across your body to discard your clothes, "Hmm?" He purrs, already confining you under his body, planting soft, teasing kisses on the valley between your breasts.

"N-No," you whimper at the feeling of his teeth against your hardened nipple, and you run a hand through his dark hair to yank him away, while the other hand tugs at his shirt to signal him to fuck, take it off.

He almost doesn't want to break away from your body, not even for the sake of finally feeling your skin rub against his. But he manages to regain his composure long enough to use swift movements to discard his clothes as you watch him, strong and veiny, a body that could be carved in marble if it ever stopped moving with devious intent.

"Suguru," you knew he loved it, the sound of his name coming from your mouth. "Please," you writhe under him, desperate for any kind of touch as he looms over you, holding himself up while deep pants escape his parted lips. He's too far for you to crash your lips against his, no matter how you try. You lift your head from the pillow, and he chuckles at your efforts, pumping his already hard and leaking cock, groaning when he lets the tip brush against your folds.

"So wet already, hmm?" His hand abandons his cock to push a finger inside your cunt, the squelching noises making the blood rush to your head. He's mad with need but can't let your squirming be over so soon, "All for me?"

"Fuck, Sugu - " you cut yourself off to grip his hair, making your lips crash, feeling his tongue swallow your moans as he takes his finger out only to push his cock into you with a deep thrust, "Ah - fuck - " you moaned into his mouth, feeling his tip rub against your sweet spot when he finally bottomed out.

He starts a mean pace, and a hint of pain jolts through you while you adjust to his size, loud moans escaping your lips, "Oh my, ah - God."

"Suguru," he corrects, reaching a hand to adjust your hips, and you moan at the friction against his abdomen, "moan it for me, princess," he groans out against your neck when you pant his name, "louder - fuck - " he pleas, his breath hitches when you clench against him.

He knows he can't hold it much longer, threatening to spill his load at every pant and moan and brush of his lips against your skin, "S- Suguru - " you whine, feeling his fingers draw circles against your clit, digging your nails into his back to leave shallow red scratches along his shoulder blades.

"You close, princess?" He lets out a shaky breath when he feels you clench again, gritting his teeth at the tightness around his cock.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and your eyes shut at the feeling of his messy, erratic thrusts, "Suguru - ," you moan, "Suguru - I - " you pull his head back by the hair.

"Mhmm," he coos, "you what?" he growls, his thrusts feeling almost impossibly deep when the heat pools in your stomach.

"I - I'm - close - " And it's all he needs to hear, locks of black hair falling to brush against your face as he smashes his lips onto yours, savoring the taste of your mouth as your back arches and walls contract around him.

"Good girl," he rasps into your mouth, pounding a few harsh thrusts before his hips stutter. You watch through glazed eyes how muscles tighten as he spills his seed into you with a low groan.

He collapses atop you, pressing his sweat-dampened face against your chest to relish in the sound of the fast, thumping beat of your heart. A few more seconds, and he can measure the tempo.

"Listen," Suguru says, smoking a cigarette out of the open window of your room while he watches you get dressed in the corner, "there's a few things I have to do early tomorrow," his eyes trail out to the street lamps out the window, their blinking lights reflecting on his car outside.

"Suguru," you stand over him, brushing the pads of your fingers against the scratches you left on his back, "did something - "

"Just a few things I have to do," he says, looking around the room for his shirt, "so I'll call you, yeah?"

-

"Uhm, so, did you hear from Su-" You cut yourself off, watching Shoko take a long drag from her smoke with her eyes waiting for you to finish your sentence. "I mean - " you clear your throat, "You know how a guy does something, and then he -" Your face grows red at the memory of Suguru's naked body, "And you think it was nice because you had fun, and then he -"

Shoko watches you babble for a while before saying a confused, "Yes?"

"Suguru didn't call me back," you finally utter. Wasn't it enough for him that I called first?

"Oh," Shoko takes a long drag from her cigarette, "and he needs to call you because..?"

Your face flushes crimson as you bury your face in your hands, "B-Because we fucked and I haven't heard from him since," you mutter through your palms.

Gojo Satoru has a habit of entering places like his presence was eagerly anticipated, swinging the door open with a dramatic expression, "Shoko!" He cuts through the conversation, his height exaggerated by the confines of Shoko's small dorm room as he puts his saxophone on the table, "The key is stuck. I'm going to need you to fix it again -"

"Later," Shoko sounds like a reprimanding mother as she motions toward your sulking face.

Gojo's eyebrows knit together, "Did something happen?"

"Suguru didn't call her after - " Shoko reconsiders her words for a moment, "after they had a nice time together."

"Hmm?" Gojo plops down on the bed in the corner, "Well, he won't call for a while."

You raise your gaze from your palms, tilting your head at the man, "What do you mean?" And your mind races, Oh god. He can't - hate me?

"You didn't hear?" Gojo's smirk fades from his lips, "His mother died last Saturday."

Wait, the same day he came and - ?

You widen your eyes at Shoko, who only shakes her head in response.

"His parents were divorced for quite a while," Gojo continues, "he hasn't seen his mother in over a decade - "

"But she's still his mother," Shoko remarks, huffing a cloud of smoke into the room that lingers stagnant above the table.

Gojo sulks, "I was about to say that. He's been stuck in his room for a week now. My father's pissed."

"Your father?" You puzzle, watching Gojo wipe his sunglasses on the edge of his shirt.

"He was supposed to play the Grand Hall this weekend." And you squint your eyes, waiting for him to continue, "My father pays his tuition for these shows, y'know."

"Your father pays Suguru's tuition?" You repeat.

Gojo chuckles, "Well, I'm not sure for how long, now that Suguru won't even answer his phone. Dad's been planning this grand opening for a year now."

Oh?

"Can't you talk to him?" Shoko was still holding onto the smoking cigarette butt in her hand.

"It's like talking to a - " Gojo cut himself off to knock twice at the white plaster wall beside the bed.

Your muscles tense, and the sound of your own racing pulse deafens your ears.

I should say something. "He's your friend," you croak out.

Gojo's expression changes to a stern one, a terrifying sight on his soft features, "What would have me do? Make him play while he's mourning for his mother? Fight with my father only to have him cut Suguru off anyway?"

You go silent, mulling over his words, but find nothing to say.

Shoko picks up the saxophone from the table, "Which key is broken?" she asks, and there's a hint of defeat in her voice as she waits for Satoru's answer so, at the very least, she can fix something.

-

Suguru had stared at the cello case for days now, hesitant to take the instrument out of its shell. He started staring at it when he took it from his mother's house after the funeral and kept staring at it on the two-hour bus ride and the three-hour train journey, and then, when he leaned it against the wall of his apartment, he still couldn't take his eyes off of it.

It called him. Not in the way you called him - the kind that made his heart flutter when he saw your name pop on his phone screen, which he ignored, simply having no clue as to what to say.

He still ran the imaginary conversations in his head every time you did, letting out sad chuckles into the stale air of his room. How have you been? Oh yes, my mother died, and I'm sitting here with her instrument, which she always loved more than me. Is it nice? Oh, it's more like a successful older brother - you want to hug him just as much as you want to chuck him out the window. Would you like to grab a coffee?

"It's been almost two weeks since you sat there," Geto stands in the little kitchen of his apartment, making a cup of tea he knew would join the others piled up on his bedside table. I'm talking to it now, he thinks, I've finally gone insane. "How about you pay rent?" He chastises the instrument.

For a moment, he thinks it really might pay his rent - for about four years - if he decides to sell it, and keep the money to himself. His hands find themselves opening the case.

He inspects it for a long while, his hands brushing reluctantly over the wood until they find the small scratch in the varnish, the one he'd left there over a decade ago, and he focuses on it. It's small, pale looking, almost too tiny to notice, like the scar on his forehead.

"Maybe it's fair," he mutters at it, "I hurt you, and she hurt me. Balance."

A knock on the door makes his hand falter.

"Suguru," you bang on the door, feeling your leg squash something under it. "Mochi?" you mutter as you pick up a bag from the floor, and the lock clicks.

He looks terrible, you think, with tired eyes and strands sticking out from his usually perfect hair. You hand him the crumpled bag, trying no to smile, "It was just here," you point to the doorway.

"Hmm?" He takes it from your hands, "Satoru's been leaving those here every day. I've got plenty. You can have it if you like."

The air in the room reeks of smoke and coffee grounds, and he steps away, losing your eyes as he moves clothes from a chair to his bed for you to sit on.

"How are you?" you ask.

"Fine," he responds instinctively. Silence. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure." Silence again. A good time to pick up smoking, you think.

Your gaze lands on the cello peaking from its case in the corner. "A new one?" You puzzle as he puts a cup of coffee in front of you.

"My mother's," Geto says, sitting on the chair across from you.

"It's beautiful," you say, and you watch a sullen look settle in his eyes. "Wrong thing to say?" you give him a half-hearted smile, attempting to lift his mood, "Because in that case, it looks terrible."

"I like it when you say the wrong things," He suddenly says, "They don't feel so wrong when you say them."

You take the cup of coffee in your hands, warming your palms against the glass, "You can say them too sometimes, y'know."

He takes a sip from his coffee, only to find he can't stand the taste anymore, wrinkling his nose, "I hate that thing. I've been contemplating whether to sell it or just throw it out the window."

"And what's the verdict?"

"Play it," he says.

"Then play it."

He gets up, pushing the chair back to the middle of the room as he walks to take the instrument out of its case. You're almost startled by how stiff he looks leaning it between his legs, a hold so tight on the bow his knuckles turn white.

He puts the bow to the strings with a feather-light stroke, and halts.

He looks scared of it.

Is that what stage fright feels like? He thinks as he watches you lean forward against the table, eyes honed on his hands.

"You just need to play it, y'know? Like children do, just wiggle the bow a few times." You say.

Like children do. "It'll be dissonant," Geto utters sternly, releasing his grip on the bow.

"That's how they laugh," your lips curl into a soft smile, "That's what my father used to tell me when he heard the horrible screeches I made on his violin when he first gave it to me, 'Don't worry, that's how they laugh.'"

His chest tightened at the words, and he forced the bow onto the strings, making a loud, off-key tone penetrate the room.

It's the first time you've heard him make a mistake, and it made every nerve in your system tingle. Your head went euphorically dizzy. This is much better.

He almost stopped at your wide-eyed look, but you just laughed, "Oh, please, you call that dissonant?" And you watch him push the bow onto the strings again, brows furrowed at the terrible sounds, but his movements unwavering.

It's fine to play it like this, he thinks, as long as it's accompanied by your laughter.

"Suguru," you utter, and he lifts his gaze from the instrument, "Will you play the Grand Hall tonight?"

He ponders for a moment, "I think I will."

"Then you better answer your phone," you motion towards the buzzing cell phone on the counter, "and take a shower," you laugh.

He looks down on his disheveled clothes, "That bad, huh?" He chuckles.

"Just a little."

You hear the shower water running as you fiddle with your phone, still dazed at what just happened. You press the contact and dial.

"Hey, Dad?" You chirp into the cell phone, "Are you still coming to the Grand Hall opening tonight?"

-

The new Grand Hall is a sea of white marble floors and golden framed artworks, crowded by black-suited CEOs and their overly lavish trophy wives.

Geto sits on the lone stool in the middle of the stage, watching them all take their seats, still busy exchanging pleasantries with each other while they wait for the show to start. His eyes drift constantly to the stage exit, where you stand with Gojo, smiling softly, mouthing, "Don't worry," at his stiff figure.

His mother's cello is still unfamiliar to the touch, a beast different than the one he owns which he had already spent years taming.

People fill the seats like ants, and the lights dim above his head. The pianist behind him is a weak-looking man, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his thin nose before giving Geto the cue to start.

The first stroke of the bow is a hesitant one across the strings that once earned him a blow to the head, but the second one has more vigor, and his eyes, half-lidded still, find your smiling face again to soothe his nerves. His bow falters; he didn't have time to change the rusty strings; what would Elgar* say?

And you can't help but smile at each terrible pitch echoing around you; each horribly dissonant tone is more beautiful than the next to your ears.

The sounds are low and deep, growling against the marble hall. He almost has it - the feeling - the one that'd let him stop quivering in his seat. His bow jitters. He never knew he could make so many mistakes in a piece that he played hundreds of times, but with your smile at the corner of his eyes, he feels it creep up his fingertips, rushing through his chest - joy.

"My son!" The doors to the concert hall bust open with a bang; it overpowers the soothing sounds of his cello and the melody of the piano, "He's my fucking son. Let me see him!" Suguru's father stumbles drunkenly into the hall, two dark-suited men at his heels.

The hall washes over with whispers, women pressing their carefully manicured hands to their painted mouths in awe while their husbands are already halfway out of their seats with a proud "I'll take care of the bastard, honey" stuck on their lips.

"Fuck off, pig." Suguru's father spews at the guard trying to drag him away, "He owes it all to me, the brat. Play for our guests, Suguru! " He turns to the crowd, "Enjoying the show, money-rolling cunts?"

Suguru stiffens, his eyes two dull, widened orbs staring at the scene as he stops his playing, ignoring the piano player's whispers to just play, kid.

Gojo rushes to the man screaming in the hall, "Mr. Geto, long time no see," he says, one hand gripping him by the edge of his booze-soaked shirt, the other wrapping around the man's neck in an almost affable way, "How about you see your son after the show?" A smile is frozen on his soft lips, his blue eyes staring daggers at the man, "Now be nice, or they'll tase you," he breathes down the man's ear, motioning to the guards whose fingers are already clutching the tasers.

"Fucking bastard," Geto's father mutters at the white-haired man, "Money-rolling cunts," he slurs all the way out of the doors. They close with a soft thud, leaving the hall in a dead silence.

a/n - * - Edward Elgar, Cello Concerto in E minor, Op.85

-

12 years ago

"You hear that?" Your father stood over you in the rehearsal room of the conservatory, his arms crossed over his chest as he paced back and forth, "That's how they laugh. Every time you make a mistake, they laugh at you, girl."

Your eyes were red as you stopped your playing, "L-Laugh?"

"Instruments make that sound so they can mock you," your father explained, correcting your grip on the bow, "and you have to do everything so they don't do that."

Every day, he'd drive you up to the conservatory and stand over you in that room for hours on end, brows knitted together at each whine the violin screeched out. And when it was finally over, he'd walk you down the long white corridor to the room at the end, where a small, dark-haired boy would play his cello.

"See that, girl?" He'd point through the crack in the door, "Perfection."

Perhaps that was when you started to despise Geto Suguru. Over the years, the feeling only grew, but it hadn't peaked before his smug smile sat next to you in a jazz club, finally uttering the first words he ever directed at you, "Geto Suguru, have we met before?"

And it felt strange because you had - or at least you thought you had, over a decade ago. Not that he'd know that you watched him play almost every day through that time, with the scrutinizing words your father whispered above your head, "Look. Really look," your father held your head steady with his fingers digging into your scalp, "It doesn't laugh at him, see?"

And you did see. And you wished that it laughed at him, too. Why were you the only one supposed to be laughed at?

You didn't mean to at first, really. Something about him just ticked it off, the urge for revenge. How dare he hate his instrument and play it so well, when you loved the violin and it betrayed you with every stroke?

You didn't mind the sex; he was still a handsome man. It made him trust you - and as long as you made him make a mistake - every laugh, every encouraging smile, every word, was worth it.

-

"Fucking bastard," Geto's father mutters at the white-haired man, "Money-rolling cunts," he slurs all the way out of the doors. They close with a soft thud, leaving the hall in a dead silence.

Suguru looks for them - your eyes, and that smile that seems to perpetually grace your lips - but when his eyes finally land on you, he finds it gone. You mouth something he doesn't quite catch before disappearing from the stage exit. He can't do it; he can't play anymore. His hand freezes against the strings.

You finally made a fool of yourself, Suguru.

You wait outside the Grand Hall doors, body shivering with anticipation when the crowd finally starts to leave the hall.

"Dad!" You shout when you see him, making your way through the people, heels clacking against the marble until you grab your father's arm, "Dad! It was horrible, wasn't it?"

"Hmm? Who'd you come with dear?" Your father inquires.

"Leave it, Dad. He was horrible, right?"

He looks at you a long time before saying, "It's a shame for that boy, the beginning was perfect."

-

10 years later

When he's conducting, anyone would agree that Suguru Geto is breathtaking. The moment he dropped playing the cello ten years prior, every one of his admirers had almost lost hope - that is, until he picked up the baton. A true genius, they'd say, forgetting his last horrible performance, which graced the headlines for a long time after he ditched it in the middle, and how he disappeared for the next two years after it. Lonley? Gods no, he's a busy man, or perhaps struggling with all his greatness to find a mind akin to his own.

But only the small orchestra that played under him knew that all these words were just flattery - he was cold and unforgiving of any and all mistakes, and he really, truly despised the violinists.

Or he did, until the new violinist ran late to the first rehearsal of the year.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto smut #geto x reader smut #geto x reader angst #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #getou suguru x y/n #getou x reader #getou suguru x you #getou smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you

[onmyyan]

Can I get Delmont HC’s for when one of their ex flings or situationships try to get at the Delmont’s again and reader just gets sad instead of jealous ☹️

Oh this was so good my hands started typing before I could stop em!

A/N: Yandere, murder mentioned in Marcos, Manny kills someone,

Starting with OG lover boy, Cas takes your relationship very, very seriously.

Let's set the scene, the two of you are cuddled up at a work party of yours and a coworker you didn't really talk to much comes sauntering over with a smile far too friendly for your liking, it made a nasty feeling settle deep within your gut, something about her gaze lingering on the tall man by your side made you feel uncomfortable.

"Caspian? I haven't seen you in ages! How are you these days?" She'd ask completely ignoring your presence. Your eye flickered from the long legged woman to your now tense boyfriend. Caspian was almost always relaxed and happy with you, so you immediately clocked his off behavior.

"Hey Ana, been good." Was his simple, curt response, his hand moved from it's warm spot on your waist to his pant pocket, (He felt his temper instantly rise and couldn't risk hurting you so he moved his clenched fist to his pocket.) and you felt silly about it afterwards but in that moment, that small action felt like a rejection. The ugly feelings brewing in your stomach made the drink on your tongue turn bitter.

"You look amazing Cas, I see you kept up with our gym routine after all huh?" She giggled as if it was an inside joke between them, her body faced him, now closer than before, and you felt like a stranger intruding on something personal, all too quickly, you felt your throat tighten.

"It's so crazy running into you here, I was just thinking about how much fun we had together, we should go out for a drink later, maybe catch up?"

Caspian stared long and hard at the woman but your emotions were quickly spiraling out of control, you could feel your gut twist at the thought of him entertaining her, and before you could hear his response, you muttered out a barley audible "Excuse me." To the pair, quickly making your retreat to the nearest bathroom, thanking the universe that it was empty because no sooner than you closed the door did your bottom lip start to tremble.

Had you stayed you would have seen the downright murderous look on your boyfriend's face.

In his head he's trying to figure out the best way to turn her down without embarrassing you at your job, it's the only reason he doesn't notice your sudden mood shift.

He was trying to process the woman's audacity, a curt decline on the tip of his tongue, when you suddenly disappeared from his side. In an instant panic, he not so subtly shoves his way past the woman to where he thinks you went.

He uses the tracker on your phone to track you down to the bathroom and fully intended on waiting by the door until you came out, but then he heard the sound he hated most in the world, you sniffling.

Bursts in the door like there's a fire, not caring about anything but getting to you, checking you over. He ignores your gasp and hushed whispers to get out before he got in trouble, and cradles your wet face between his big hands.

"What's wrong Honey? How can I help?" He's staring at you with those big red eyes, brows furrowed in concern, and you can't help the tearful giggle you let out at his behavior.

"It's stupid-"

"If it made my baby cry it's far from stupid." He corrects immediately, thumbs wiping at any stray tears left.

"That woman- the way she spoke to you. I just, I hated how that made me feel and I don't know- I'm sorry, we can just go back to the party okay?" You turn from him to face the mirror and in an attempt to brush past what you considered an embarrassing moment, begin wiping at the smeared mascara on your eyes.

He smacks his teeth at his own idiocy, he hadn't even considered how that stupid wench made you feel in the moment, god what must be running through your mind, he couldn't imagine an ex of yours trying to ask you out in front of him, the guilt swells immediately, he wanted to run back out there and throw that harlot down the stairs for making your pretty face fall the way it had.

Instead he made his way to the bathroom door and clicked the lock in place, you turned to face him but your questions died on your tongue as he made his way towards you with that particular dark look in his eye.

"Forgive me, my love. I didn't mean to make you upset, I just didn't wanna make a scene at your job." He says casually falling to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your calves, to your thighs, finally settling on the thin fabric of your underwear, he stared up from between your legs with the softest look on his face.

"Let me make it up to you Honey."

Gabe has a much more explosive reaction

You two are at the gym, Gabe was sweating and sitting there all gorgeous and shit, he's making sure you watch as he lifts, his veins bulging in his arms as he winks at you. "Be my spotter baby I need my motivation." He grits out with that wolfish smile stretched across his flushed face.

You weren't nearly as athletic as the man and sometimes it felt as if you didn't belong in the gym, but he was quick to snuff out these thoughts, swearing up and down he preformed better on his sets when you were watching, that he needed you by his side even if you weren't working out as well.

He not only wants you around because he can't get enough of you, but he also really wants you to see him be hot, unfortunately that meant everyone at the gym got to see it too.

"I'll be right back baby, gonna go grab you a water." You smile at his immediate pout, the grabby hands he makes as he demands a goodbye kiss, even though you'd only be gone a few moments, but that's all the time the blonde woman stalking up to him needs.

The stranger to you was an old fling of Gabe's, he barely recognized her when she invited herself to his personal space like she was allowed, the only reason he didn't immediately brush her off was because she said his name, he was confused as she neared him, her smile too wide to be genuine.

the blue haired giant was the best sex of her life and despite the fact that she saw his blatant affection for you, she made her move anyway.

You came back to quite the sight, Gabe sat stiffly on the machine he was at, his elbows on his knees as he stared up at the blonde beside him, his face set in that sinfully attractive hardened stare,

The woman currently leaning too close for comfort on his machine looked like someone out of a fitness magazine, she was fit, completely toned and gorgeous, you couldn't help the twinge of discomfort at how close they were, how they looked like the perfect couple.

You neared them awkwardly as her back was to you and heard her say, "It's been too long Gabriel, I miss you, god your body is still insane, what are your benching now 250? 300. You could definitely still toss me around the bed." Her tone was dripping in flirtation, she dragged a finger up the pole of the machine he sat on, leaning down to press her chest together.

Before you could think about turning away from the upsetting sight, Gabe abruptly stood up, his glare dead set on the woman, his eyes flickered to you, immediately clocking the way your shoulders shrunk in, how you seemed to deflate at the situation, he could practically read your mind, knowing how easily your brain went to the worst places, he felt his temper skyrocket at the mere idea of you being upset by this nobody.

"Baby! I think we should end this early yeah? I got a better idea for a workout that involves you, me, and my backseat." He says almost whining as he throws his sweaty body all over you, his arms holding you tight against his body as he kissed the top of your head, rocking into the hug.

"This place just let's anybody in, we should switch to a new gym." His glare turned to the woman, if looks could kill she'd be on the ground. "C'mon ma, let's go before I get belligerent."

Ricky fully ignores the interaction lmao it's so rude

You'd come to the Auto shop with a homemade lunch for your sweet Ricky as he forgot to pack his own and called you to bring him one (he definitely did this on purpose just to see you at work)

You enter the shop and start to head straight to the back before being stopped by a manicured hand snapping in your face rather rudely.

"Hi ma'am, you can't just walk in here, you have to make an appointment." The woman behind the receptionist desk was new, you'd never seen her in here before, she was practically sneering at you, her plastic, customer service smile held no warmth as she tapped her nail against the sign in sheet impatiently.

You laughed instinctually at the tense situation, trying to dispell the awkwardness, you didn't understand her hostility, "Oh my boyfriend works here, he's expecting me." You say offering her a friendly smile, trying to smooth over any unpleasantness.

"Well I'm going to need some identification." She says matter of factly, her body now blocking your path. "uh no?" You said not wanting the stranger to see your information, you'd come to the shop hundreds of times now, everyone knew who you were, everyone but this woman it seems.

She scoffed at your refusal her voice raising in anger as she glared at you, "If you don't cooperate I'll have to call security." She threatened not knowing how deep she was digging her grave.

"My love? What's going on." Ricky's deep, baritone voice suddenly called out from around the corner, he thought it was odd you hadn't appeared yet as his tracker app said you'd arrived at his work minutes ago, it wasn't like you to delay so he listened to his gut and went outside seeing you being harassed by the new receptionist.

His blood pressure rises instantly and he has to fight to keep his hands from yanking her away from you.

He'd only signed off on her hiring because he knew she was infatuated with him, they hooked up once a few years ago and she would do anything to have it happen again, of course Ricky had no intention of fulfilling her desires, he just needed someone he knew would keep their mouth shut if they happened to see/notice something funky with the shop.

But her value immediately diminishes the second she gets in your way, his glare could melt glass as he tells her a simple, but aggressive, "Move." He holds his arms out to you and when you curl into his touch he makes a point to kiss your temple, his focus completely on you. "Are you alright love? What was she doing?" He asks tenderly rubbing your face. The receptionist opens her mouth to respond but Ricky shuts her up with a single raised hand, "She was just asking for my ID, I brought your lunch!" You say excitedly, his gaze grows warm at the adorable sight before he turns to the woman, his eyes dead, his aura dark and imposing.

"Clean out your desk immediately, I want you out of my shop before I come back out here." His tone left no room for argument, almost threatening as he places a hand in the small of your back, gently leading you away. "You didn't need to do that for me-" he cuts you off with an intense, breath stealing kiss, "Of course I did, no one interrupts our time together."

Marcos had always been afraid of his promiscuous past coming back to haunt him, and his violent reaction to this shows.

The two of you had been at a club for a while now, both proper sloshed and sweating, hours of grinding on each other to every song that came on the thumping speakers, he's in heaven with his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck as he mouths needy kisses up and down your throat.

You motion towards the bar, your drunk body demanding more alcohol and he begins leading you towards it, his hands never leaving your body.

He all but pushes a guy out of his seat so you can rest there while he gets the bartenders attention. He freezes when the woman turns around. The bartender shoots him a knowing, flirty grin, leans over close and yells over the pounding music, "Hey Marcos baby, you come back for more? I can take my break right now if that's the case."

His eyes flicker to you and his heart stutters at the sad look on your face, be it the copious amounts of liquor you had in your body or how just how gorgeous the woman hitting on him was, you feel your spirits drop, your mind tortured you with images of them together, of him with another, and the insecurities bubble up faster than you can handle, "scuse' me." You drunkenly mutter clasping a hand over your mouth, your stomach felt queasy all of a sudden and you all but ran to the bathroom on shakey legs.

Marcos is seeing red, his mind panicking as he watches you retreat to the bathroom he feels sick himself at the thought of you leaving him, the fear that you may be comparing yourself to such a nothing person, the terrifying thought of this insignificant person making you see him different, it had his chest heaving in a barley concealed rage.

He fixes his burning stare on the bartender, his eyes holding pure malice as he holds himself back from pressing his thumbs into her eyes and slamming her into the bar until it broke.

He says nothing to her, his eyes making her so uneasy she baked away slightly, his mouth felt dry as he pushes and bullies his way past the crowd to barge into the bathroom where he finds you curled around the toilet, he's falling to his knees beside you in an instant, he keeps your hair from your face, a soothing hand on your back as you empty your stomach.

His words are soft and encouraging as he helps you to your feet, uncaring about his expensive clothes being dirtied, uncaring of how messy you look, his eyes are full of love, even a bit teary as he helps you to the sink, as you wash your mouth out he's wetting a paper towel and dabbing the cold cloth to your burning neck, "Oh baby, my sweet girl are you okay? I'm so sorry, come here let me see you."

The moment sobers him entirely, he's calling a deluxe Uber to pick you both up and sending a message to his twin about the bartender, he wanted the bitch dead for even momentarily causing you to frown, he's holding your swaying form against him protectively as he waits for the car, his mind swirling with thoughts of violence and revenge, how dare that waste of air upset you so much? The crime would be repaid in blood.

Manny has the most volatile reaction.

The two of you are a late night, semi exclusive car show, Manny loved watching the races, he stopped racing in them the second you said you worried for his safety but his love for the adrenaline filled sport remained, the classic cars were beautiful and he always smiled so brightly when you indulged his more risky interests.

He loved pointing out the racers he liked or hated, his favorite cars and why, sharing this with you was one of his favorite ways to pass time. You always looked so beautiful under the neon lights, the smell of gasoline in the air.

It's rare for him to leave your side when you're out and about so this happens in front of you, the two of you are cuddled up together, sat comfortably on the hood of his car, his arms around you as you leaned back into his chest, when a woman in leather saunters up to his car.

"Hey Manny, long time no see pretty boy." The woman coo's from her position, her eyes drinking him in, blatantly ignoring your existence.

"Yeah." Is Manny's only response, his grip on your hips tightening before he moves from holding you against him to stepping in front of you, keeping his body between you and what he felt was a threat.

His hair moved everytime a car whizzed by him, but he didn't flinch, his cold eyes trained on the woman from his past.

His voice was clearly irritated, tone leaving no room for friendly interpretation, and yet she persisted, taking a step closer to the tall man who had begun to clench his fists, his body trembling in unfiltered rage.

"You wanna' take another ride? This time if I win, I get my prize up front." Her tone was clear, her implication made more lewd as she looked him up and down.

"Don't talk to me like you know me. Don't talk to me like you're somebody." His voice was dripping venom as he spoke, and if he wasn't furious before, the sad, almost deflated look on your face at her comments made him see red.

The crowds of people were so thick and intense, the loud sounds of the revving engines and screaming spectators only added to his slip of control.

"Relax Manny baby! I'm just teasing you." She puts her hand on his chest and before you could blink the woman's body is flying out towards the road where a car smacks into her with a sick crunch, her limp body is dragged as the car speeds along, unaware of the carnage it caused, screams and shouts of horror come from all around you, people beginning to panic as Manny turns around, all malice gone from his face as he lifts you off the car and ushers you to the passenger seat without a word. "Time to go!" He all but sings as he peels out of the parking lot.

"Holy shit are you okay?" You asked him turning back to stare as the horrifying scene grew farther and farther from his rearview mirror. He placed a shaky hand on your thigh to calm himself as he spoke, "I'm okay baby girl, are you? I'm so so sorry you had to see that." He says, his only guilt came from your date night being cut short.

"Don't be sorry baby, no one could have known that would happen Jesus Christ." You put a hand to your chest trying to ease the fierce beat, he grabbed your free hand, bringing the back of your palm to his lips for a sweet kiss, his eyes crinkling in joy at the thought of her now crumpled body.

"Yeah, accidents happen."

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere OC's x reader #yandere OC's #Delmont brothers #Caspian Delmont #Gabe Delmont #Ricky Delmont #Marcos Delmont #Manny Delmont #Caspian x reader #gabe x reader #ricky x reader #manny x reader #Marcos x reader

[save-the-villainous-cat]

I have voluntarily thrown myself into the horny jail. Therefore I am here to request for a severely hurt villain who shows up at the hero's doorstep nearly passed out. Then villain wakes up a few hours later with hero flirting with them but the villain just does not care because they've been wanting this since forever. And then they have a big ol' make out scene-

“What are you doing?” The villain’s eyes were closed but the smell of hot coffee and cooked bacon wasn’t something they could ignore.

“I made you breakfast,” the hero answered softly and the villain opened their eyes laboriously to find a sleepy hero sitting and yawning on the bed.

“Hotel service?” The villain smiled and closed their eyes again, already exhausted from opening them. Everything hurt, not as bad as yesterday, but every muscle, every bone, every tendon tugged them apart.

God, it was like their whole body wanted to tear at them until there was nothing left.

“Pff, dream on.” The villain looked at them again and to their surprise, the hero laid down next to them, head on their pillows. As their messy hair fell over the bedding, the villain was almost certain an angel was getting comfortable next to them. Something, the villain didn’t know what but something about the hero killed their anxiety. The villain was an anxious person, always had been. Restless and a stranger to peace. However, the hero made them believe in something very close to serenity. “How are you feeling?”

“Drained,” the villain said. They studied the hero’s face as so often. Why them? Always them.

As if the hero was the only language the villain could speak. As if the hero was the answer to everything. As if the hero was the only thing that kept them alive.

Somehow, that was the truth.

“Ugh, poor villain. Thank god I know how to take care of you.” The hero stretched out their arm and let their fingers go over the villain’s cheek. It was impossibly soft. “Always getting in trouble.”

“You’re always there to take care of me, so I’m not worried.” Sometimes, the villain would lose themselves in their anger and anxiousness, smashing things and freaking out like a child. It made them feel weak and they were ashamed of it. But sometimes, they’d think of their hero, would think about how simple they made their life look. That worked. That made everything easier.

“I could take care of you in many different ways,” the hero said suddenly and grinned.

Christ. The villain wanted to forget about the pain. They wanted to forget about last night. But that wasn’t easy when just existing was enough to hurt. When everything had to be considered, when everything was a threat, an attack, a possible enemy.

“Could you?” they asked, sitting up in bed. Apparently, the hero hadn’t quite realised what they’d said. Their eyes widened and just like the villain, they sat up in bed.

“Oh my god, sorry, that was so inappropriate.” All the villain could focus on was the blush and the gentle cracking of the hero’s voice. They were embarrassed and the villain couldn’t help but find it intriguing. “I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care,” the villain whispered, much too distracted by the hero’s lips. It astonished them how sweet the hero was. How they had stitched the villain’s wounds, made them breakfast. Their soft touches and their kind words…the villain certainly didn’t deserve it and yet, the hero gave it to them.

“What?”

“I don’t care. Get on top.” And then, softly. “Please. Please, sit on my hips.”

For a moment, the hero didn’t move and the villain was truly afraid they’d asked for too much, had demanded without thinking about it. But in the next moment, the hero got up and sat down, looking at their stomach and doing their best not to touch any wounds.

“Are you alright?” the hero asked. They were clearly worried but the villain couldn’t give them a satisfying answer. All they could feel was their heart pumping in their chest as the hero’s hand slipped under their shirt.

“Yes, I’m…actually, I don’t know. I’ve never been this close to dying. I feel like all I do is waste my life.” And I’m trying to ignore the only good thing in it. I’m trying to distance myself from you because that is easier, because it hurts but it hurts more to lose you.

The villain didn’t say that, they were too much of a coward.

“Hey, it’s alright.” The hero put a hand on the villain’s chest, right where their heart was, and the many thoughts liquified, became unimportant and made the villain calm down. “You survived. We can take it easy. Nothing needs to be rushed. All we have to focus on is healing right now, understood?”

The villain nodded.

What if this was it?

What if the hero was their person? What if they were made for each other? And what if the villain continued to avoid them? Would they grow resentful? Would they continue to treat them kindly? Would they turn against each other again?

The villain swallowed. Why on earth did the hero make it so easy to feel loved?

“Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?” The villain looked at them, more than a little shocked.

“You look stressed and every time I touch you, your muscles relax. So, can I please kiss you? I feel like you need to stop thinking for a second.”

“Yes.” The villain didn’t hesitate. “Yes, please do that.”

Please save me from myself.

And the hero did exactly that. They saved them very softly, every day a little more.

#👹👹👹👹👹 #the king #this villain can’t stop thinking ngl #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #suggestive

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello

Can i ask, if you know Nanbaka and if you do if its okay to request?

An RoR and Nanbaka crossover

Reader as the Warden, Momoko Hyakushiki, from Nanbaka. With her Personality and abilities…

You can also include some scenes, such as, the fighting in the arena, and/or interactions w/ some characters from ror and also nanbaka…

Thank you

Yassss! I love Warden Momoko! She’s so funny!

-Tales spoke of a powerful warden who once ran the biggest and strongest prison in the world, running it with an iron fist, but many who saw you, at first, didn’t believe it.

-You wore a uniform like a warden, much like the guards you oversaw, adored with pink heart features, making you look rather girly, but you were a powerful force to be reckoned with.

-You could swing your massive, spiked club with ease, break rocks from your powerful punches, and you could intimidate even the most terrifying of inmates to kneel before you.

-You maintained this intimidating reputation when you arrived in Valhalla, working with Hades as warden of one of the larger prisons in the underworld. Many of your underlings, some who were gods and demons, didn’t like answering to a human, but you quickly showed them why you were in your position.

-When Ragnarok was announced, Brunnhilde immediately approached you about fighting; initially you refused, as you needed to maintain your position, but after Hades gave you permission, telling you it would be good for you to burn off some steam.

-As you walked into the arena, you heard the catcalls almost immediately, being underestimated, your face stoic and eyes hard, not even reacting to the words of others.

-Your opponent was a fierce god, one who towered over you, “Oi woman- if you give up now, I won’t hurt you- you can even be my woman since you’re so cute!”

-He was not prepared to see you looking at him like you would look at filth, down your nose, your eyes glaring into his own and instantly he felt fear run up his spine.

-A voice then shouted out over the rest, (Love), who was cheering for you, “Do your best Y/N!” like a switch had been flipped you looked like a pure maiden, blushing, your eyes soft, holding your cheek as you turned shyly away as his words spun around your head like a mantra.

-Your opponent didn’t take too kindly to that, seeing how soft you were with (Love) but you were so cold to him, “I’ll show you!!”

-You swung out with your club, hearts erupting from it as you slammed it into his stomach, sending him flying back into the wall headfirst which quickly cracked under his thick head.

-Those who had been teasing and jeering you- who underestimated you, were quickly gawking, staring in shock as you turned, seeing (Love) also in shock, which made you pale, thinking you had scared him again.

-You turned, demon like horns appearing, but it was just your hair, as a demonic aura surrounded you, furious, seeing your opponent as the cause of (Love’s) fear.

-You were quickly announced as the winner and you saw (Love) cheering for you- pleased that you had won, and you swallowed, ‘Just smile- smile.’

-You thought your smile was dainty and delicate as you smiled up at (Love) only to see him shocked, as your smile was now terrifying, as you were covered in blood.

-Backstage you were crying in the arms of one of your underlings, a demon who did respect you, patting your back awkwardly as you lamented that (Love) was scared of you… again.

-Back on your desk in your office in Helheim, was a surprise, a letter and a bouquet, from (Love), waiting patiently for you once you finished crying.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader

[sage-green-matcha]

RETRIBUTION - ZACH TURNER 💣

Content Includes: Mentions of blood, violence, bombs, guns, more blood, spoilers for the movie “Retribution”

A/n: My first time writing for Zach! We don’t really know much about him butttt I tried my best! Hope you guys enjoy :)

<3

<3

<3

Your face was covered in shock as you watched Zach's father hold out a gun. You were already scared, the fact that there was a bomb in the car made you feel sick to your stomach.

You really thought it would be a normal day, but you had seen 3 people die in one morning.

You watched as Zach and Emily's mom was taken by the police, teams of police officers chasing down the car that you were inside of.

You had no clue what was going on, and it stressed you out knowing you couldn't do anything about it.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I'm so sorry sweetheart. You shouldn't be here right now" Matt mumbled with a shaky voice.

You could tell just from that, that were tears forming in his eyes.

"Dad... Dad don't do this!" Zach's eyebrows were furrowed, his body shaking slightly from his scared heartbeat.

"Dad don't" Emily was breathing heavily next to Zach, his hand squeezing hers tightly.

"Dad don't! Listen, okay? He's your friend"

Your heart shattered with how frightened he sounded, but you couldn't speak. You were too scared. You usually loved the rush, but this felt disgusting and dangerous.

"God forgive me" The words that fell from Matts lips were unbelievable. There was no way he was about to kill his best friend. His long-time business partner.

You didn't know Matt very well. But you knew Matt and Anders well. They were always together at gatherings, drinking and joking around like they always did.

They would tease you and Zach about getting together, you knew it would never happen. But knowing they support your small delusion made you feel better.

"Matt! Let me go!" Anders looked terrified, the gun held up to his face didn't help it either.

"Dad! Dad! He's your friend! What are you doing?"

"Dad! Don't!" Emily was now clung onto Zach, tears forming in her eyes as she watched the horrific scene.

"I can't..."

You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to see a mutilated body once you opened your eyes.

Except that didn't happen, instead your eyes were surprised at the train that rushed in front of them. Your hearing was interrupted by the loud sound of screeching metal and a loud horn.

Heavy breathing filled the car, a harsh swallow falling down your throat.

You thought you were safe, for a split second. But everything happened so fast.

Wood and glass exploded throughout the car, bullets breaking through the metal doors of the car.

A powerful cloud of smoke made you cover yourself, but instead of protecting yourself, you put your body in more danger.

The car shook before you could even look at the explosion next to you, pain covering your entire body.

Your breath scattered, looking at the bloody hole in your arm. It had all happened so fast. You felt a dart of pain and next thing you knew you were covered in blood.

"Are you okay?" Matt turned around, looking at his children before he even glanced over at you.

"Y/n? Y/n?"

A ball formed in your throat, the pain making your mouth explode with small cries.

"Shit! Shit! Y/n, Y/n! She's bleeding. She got shot!"

Your body fell cold, trying to control your breathing as blood soaked into you and Zach's clothing.

Painful whimpers fell from your mouth, feeling Zach's hand lift your arm.

"Shit"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry babe, I know it hurts."

He wrapped his dad's tie around your wound, It hurt but his words made you feel better. Your heart started beating faster, and you weren't sure if it was because of him or the shot through your arm.

"Tie it tight, Zach"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" You ought to think he was the one who shot you with how much he was apologizing.

You yelped at the pressure being put on your limb. Blood soaked through the cloth quickly and you felt sick.

"Hang on Y/n, Hang on. We're gonna get you some help" You gulped at Matt's words, your head falling onto Zach's chest.

He held you tighter in real life than in your dreams. He didn't want to lose you, you were his person. He loved you, he needed you.

His hand was covered in your blood but he refused to let go. The warm liquid covered the seats and it stained his skin, but he didn’t care.

It felt like forever before the police started to chase the car, Anxiety no longer took over your head, it just felt empty and painful.

Your vision blurred, noises and words becoming quieter and mumbled.

The car finally came to a stop, Zach holding onto your hand tightly.

"Are you okay?" A lady came up to the car, looking through the broken windows.

"She's hurt, please. She's lost a lot of blood. We need help" They didn’t believe Matt, but once she saw the bloody seats she had no choice.

"How are you, sweetheart?" Her face was serious when you asked, making you question her sanity.

"Are you serious? I'm dying" She could read your face, yet you couldn't read hers.

All you wanted was for the pain to go away, to get out of the car and feel better.

But you couldn't. The bomb made it impossible to leave.

"There are no bombs under the children's seats. We're taking off the car doors now"

They unscrewed the ruined car doors, a man reaching over your seatbelt before unbuckling it.

"Zach..." He gulped with glossy eyes as he realized he was still holding onto your hand.

"Is he your boyfriend?" The anticlimactic lady asked and you just shrugged, Zach giving you a small smile.

You were taken to an ambulance, Zach and Emily following not long after.

"You lost a lot of blood, but you'll be fine"

As if that would make you feel any better. You laid lazily on the stretcher, Thankfully the bullet wasn't stuck in your arm, so no surgery was needed.

Instead, you zoned out on anesthesia, stitches being sewn into your arm.

For some odd reason, you weren't allowed to leave the crime scene. So Heather accompanied you in the back of the ambulance.

"They called your mom again, I'm sorry sweetheart. How do you feel? Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Her motherly instincts brought you comfort, something yours didn't have. She wasn't even in town, which was why Matt had to take you to school.

But you weren't at school, yet you didn't think your mom would even care to ask you about the accident. 30 minutes had passed and she didn't even care to call, they had to call her again.

"He's taking off, Mrs. Turner" Your heart felt empty as she ran off to get her husband, Zach, and Emily running Into the ambulance.

"Y/n, are you okay? How do you feel? What did they do?" Zach's voice was fast, making you smile up at him.

"I'm fine Zach, they just gave me some stitches. Are you guys okay?" Emily tried to smile as she nodded, but Zach could only focus on you.

"Emily, leave"

"What? Why? Are you gonna kiss Y/n?"

You smiled as they fought, even after the most traumatic experience of their lives they still bickered.

"Please, Emily?" She huffed before standing outside the ambulance.

"Sorry about your shirt" You mumbled. It was dyed with the color of your blood, a dark red covering the grey fabric.

"It's fine..."

He looked nervous as he went to hold your hand, reaching out before pulling back.

"Hey, it's okay. We're alive" You took it upon yourself to take his hand, his warmth giving you comfort.

"I know...but my dad"

You frowned, letting out a small sigh before readjusting yourself to be sat up.

"Careful, be careful"

"I'm fine Zach, chill" You smiled while looking up at him, his eyes basically drilling holes into yours.

He didn't get how after all of that you still managed to look so beautiful. Your hair was messy and your skin was covered in blood, but you still looked pretty.

"I look ugly, I know" He furrowed his eyebrows before shaking his head, opening his mouth before hesitating.

“You look beautiful…even covered in blood” He scoffed as butterflies exploded in your stomach.

You didn’t want him to notice how your face lit up with every pet name and compliment, but he did.

“This is a really bad time for this but, I need to tell you”

“What is it? You can talk to me” You gave his hand a small squeeze, pulling it closer to your body.

“When I saw you bleed I really thought you were gonna die. And I wanted to tell you this in case you did…”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words as he continued to speak. The words that fell from his lips leaving you in shock.

“I love you. I don’t know what It feels like but I think I feel it for you. And I wouldn’t want anything this horrible to ever happen to you again.”

You felt yourself melt at his sweet words. But as he rambled you smiled to yourself, pulling his arm closer towards you.

“I get it Zach, I love you too”

His smile brightened your face, a soft kiss being placed on your lips before Em’s squeal interrupted the moment.

“I knew you two liked each other!”

“Em! Shut up!”

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[the1975attheirverybest]

A/N: wanother one of those mini scenes or whatever.

Warnings: smut (not too sexy though).

———

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of Matty’s lips between her legs, his tongue on her clit, his curls tickling the insides of her thighs. Any minute now, it’ll set in. Just gotta focus. Just gotta stop thinking. She wondered if Matty was beginning to worry. Surely he can tell that she’s not reacting the way that she normally would? It must be weighing on him. Making him second-guess what he’s doing? Maybe if she just got a little more friction. Got him to go faster. Or harsher. Press harder. She bucked her hips, trying to move against his tongue; to feel something.

Reflexively, Matty’s arms snaked around her waist to prop her up, taking some of the pressure off her back, but he remained unfazed by her sudden movement. That is, until he heard her whine out in frustration. His eyes shot open. Was that a good whine? A bad whine? Was it just his ears or did she sound upset? He pulled away for a moment. Glancing at her for clues.

Her whining broke into a plaintive sob.

Matty froze for a moment. Unsure how to proceed. Had he hurt her? Had he done something wrong? Touched her someplace he shouldn’t have? Some way he shouldn’t have?

“Hey, babe, fuck- what is it? What’s happened?” His voice soft and gentle, he pulled his hands away from her, keeping them up where she could see them.

“Fuck! I hate this; I hate this!” She groaned rolling on her stomach, burying her face into her pillow, her fists slamming down on the mattress.

“Oh- umm- okay…” Matty murmured a series of monosyllabic responses. “I mean, ouch…I guess? But that’s - fine. We don’t have to do that.”

He pulled away from her dragging himself off the bed.

She panicked as soon as she felt the bed shift beneath her. “Oh, gosh. No- no! That, not-“

“Thought you said you wanted me to give you head, but…” Matty shrugged, looking down at the floor, a frown on his face. His hand shot up to clear away the curls in his eyes. “Not to be like- a fuckin fragile- not to be a guy about it, but like….it’s fine if you’ve changed your mind. You know that. Could you just be nice about it next time?”

“Wait, what? Oh my god, Matty-“

He turned around , as he spoke, walking away from the bed and scanning the floor for his discarded jacket. “I- like it when you tell me what you want in bed. I do.” He bent down, picking the jacket up off the floor. “Makes me feel good, knowing we can be comfortable with each other like that. But “I hate this” over and over?” He laughed. “Maybe I’m being immature. Can’t be that bad?? Normally, you’re too incoherent to even beg- and if - if you’re not in the mood that’s fine! You could just tell me you’ve changed your mind.” He pulled the stash of weed out the jacket pocket, looking for the joint he’d rolled earlier.

“Matty, shut up!” She yelled out. “Sorry, that was- loud. But seriously, babe, shut up. I wasn’t- it wasn’t about you. I wasn’t talking about you when I said ‘I hate this’”

“Oh?” Matty put away the lighter he’d been in the middle of flicking on. “Well, then- what is it?” He began to walk back towards her, feeling apprehensive as he watched her blush and avert her eyes, her fingers fiddling with the duvet nervously.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed. Extending a hand out to her cautiously. “Hey,” he kissed the hand that she’d placed in his. “It’s me. You can talk to me, yeah?”

She nodded. “Hug?”

His response was to smile and pull her, silently, into his arms. He kissed the top of her head, feeling her fists cling to his t shirt. She’d mumbled something he couldn’t quite make out. “What?”

The way he’d always say “what?” in that exact tone, instead of “pardon” or “excuse me” always made her giggle, without fail, including this time.

“Said I’m sorry!” She enunciated, still burying her face into his neck.

“Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

She whined, trying to think of a way out of this conversation. She wanted to tell him. She just didn’t know how to.

Matty could feel her sudden stiffness, so he pulled her from his chest, looking down into her eyes. “I just wanna know that you’re alright.”

“It’s sooo embarrassing” she laughed nervously. “I- I’m so fuckin horny,”

Matty chuckled, “you say that shamelessly all the time.”

“No, but i can’t get off. Like- I want to. Need to. Feel so frustrated. But I think…I think it’s the antidepressants?” She leaned forward again, seeking refuse in his arms.

“Oh…..oh I see.”

“I think they affect the, like, sensation or something. I don’t know. It’s like….I feel SOMETHING but only enough to make me hornier. Not to, like, DO anything.”

“Oh.” Matty was at a loss. Kissing her head gently, he placed a protective hand on her back.

“And when I do cum? It’s the most disappointing non-orgasm ever.”

“How long’s this been going on?”

She shrugged in his arms. “Weeks.”

“Why didn’t you say-“

“Because I want the sex Matty! I want it. I like it. You’re so hot.” Matty laughed incredulously. His chest rising and falling against her body. “I mean it! you are! You’re so hot. And you usually feel so fuckin good. And I want the- I want the touch. The feeling of- being close. You on top of me. I like it. I miss it when you’re not here. I just can’t-“

“Cum.” He finished her sentence for her.

“Well….yeah.”

Matty peeled her body off of his again, pushing her to lay back down on the bed. “Take your shirt off for me?” He requested as he stood up and took off his own clothes.

“W-what? I just told you I can’t-“

“Just cuz you can’t cum, doesn’t mean you can’t….enjoy your hot boyfriend.” He grinned.

“Oh, I knew it would go to your head!” She rolled her eyes.

“I’m gonna lay on top of you without my shirt on. I’m gonna hold you. And I’m gonna kiss you all over your face…..and your neck, a bit, too, so it doesn’t feel left out. Alright? We don’t have to do anything else. How’s that sound?”

She stuck her arms out. “Yes, please, hurry. I need you.”

“Greedy, impatient girl.” He shook his head. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

She gave him a dramatic pout.

“Alright, alright. Be a good girl now. For fucks sakes.”

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