#god what he would’ve done to have someone smile at him

[satoruhour]

geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt

OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD

a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers

wc: 2.9k

warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

geto was a sweet roommate.

he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.

even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.

it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.

the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,

“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”

shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”

gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.

“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”

suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.

today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.

“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.

there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.

“(y/n)? love? you okay?”

“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”

“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”

geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.

“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”

geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.

“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.

geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.

what would it be like to actually wear it?

the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.

peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.

“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.

you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.

you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?

the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”

setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.

“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.

your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.

oh, shit.

and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.

fuck, did i say that out loud?

you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.

“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.

“yea— yeah…”

geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.

suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”

your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.

“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”

your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.

“yeah?”

you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.

“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.

“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.

“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.

geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.

“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.

“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.

“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”

“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”

you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”

your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”

he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.

geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.

“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 

“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.

“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.

“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”

you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.

once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”

you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.

he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.

you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—

as his roommate and maybe now, something more.

part two ♡

#anon #asks #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk thirsts #jjk drabbles #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #getou suguru smut #geto x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #getou x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen geto

[tonycries]

Brooklyn Baby - G.S.

Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.

Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)

A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 

Art by @_3aem on X.

Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.

You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 

And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 

You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 

Whatever, part of the job anyway.

It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 

Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 

“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 

If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”

You were not jealous. 

Suguru knew you were jealous.

Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?

He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 

That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 

The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?

Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.

“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?

He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 

Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.

The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”

“Oh?”

“Wanna help me with it?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 

Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 

“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.

It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 

“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 

“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 

In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”

“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.

He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.

Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 

“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 

You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 

Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 

Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.

He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 

Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”

He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 

“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 

“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”

Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 

His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.

God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.

Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 

Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.

“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.

You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.

“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.

Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.

Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 

His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 

Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 

The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 

You have no idea what you do to him.

Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 

“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 

You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 

He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.

Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 

Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.

Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.

“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.

You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.

Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.

He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 

Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.

Shit, he was really feeling it today. 

Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 

You were, too.

If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.

“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 

“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.

He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 

Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 

“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.

“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 

“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”

“Yes.” 

At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 

“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 

It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 

He just can’t get enough.

He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 

“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”

“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 

Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 

Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.

“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 

He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 

His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.

You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 

He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 

“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.

Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 

Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”

Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.

As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.

“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.

He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 

Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 

The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 

Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.

Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.

In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 

You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 

Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 

“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 

“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 

“Be mine.”

And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 

With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 

Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.

As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.

Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 

Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.

“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.

The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 

Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 

“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.

“Ah- um-”

“You-”

Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.

“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 

Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”

“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 

Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.

“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 

‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.

Blinding lights. 

Deafening screams.

Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 

But he only wanted to fuck you.

A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jjk #geto suguru #tonywrites

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

#coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #yandere coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games x reader #the hunger games

[st4rymoon]

✭ 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ✭

𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 𝐀𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a long read btw, arguing, impact play, academic rivals, slow burn, rough sex, hate sex, language, p in v, make out sesh, unprotected sex, annoying Miguel, reader has some anger issues on the low, breath play, teasing, sexual tension, semi-mean dom, after care

・Part two! Part Three!

“WHAT?” You yelled, both your professor and Miguel looking at you in shock after your professor asked you for a one on one with the both of you.

You could scoff at the way Miguel’s lips curled up into a satisfied smile “Well you and Miguel are my best students, so it would only make sense for the both of you to do a presentation together. I can only imagine the things the both of you will come up with!” Your annoyingly sweet professor clapped.

“ wouldn’t it be better if both of us did our own? We coul-“ You tried to negotiate “Ah ah! I said group project! Now Miguel, do you have anything to say about this? Any complaints like this one over here?”

You sighed as Miguel spoke “Nope, I’d be happy to work with someone in the same range as me” he cockily spoke “Very funny, now since we’ve got this all sorted, go and talk” she smiled, shooing you and Miguel out of the classroom.

You scoffed as you pushed past Miguel “Aww come on sweetheart, you hate me that much?” He cooed following close behind you.

“Shut it” you huffed. Getting paired with Miguel was possibly the worst thing to happen since your high school prom. Miguel was the bane of your existence since the first year of college.

Of course, his good looks and brains were attractive but sooner or later you realized he was going to be a pain in your ass for the next few months of class. You met him in your first biology class, everything was going well until the first exam of the class.

Your professor said the class average was low B’s and high C’s but out of the whole class, two people got perfect scores. Could you guess who the two were?

You and Miguel.

Both of you looked at each other from across the class with the same look in your eyes saying ‘Someone beat me?’. Of course, you both got the same 100% grade but both of you were so used to being the only one on top of the class that this was more than just a score. But your egos.

You both were fully aware to not be in each other's way, only seeing each other when studying at the same place or in class. All was going well for the next 2 exams, but the 3rd one came and you couldn’t believe it.

You got a 98% and Miguel has a perfect 100%. You could see him smile at the results and you hated the professor right now. Why the hell would he show the class? It’s embarrassing, to say the least.

Miguel gave you a wink as you looked his way ever so slightly. Bursting out of the class, you could feel him behind you “2 points down” he chuckled. You wish you would’ve punched him.

And ever since then, he’s made it his life mission to ruin your day. You never got anything other than 100% again, you busted your ass studying just so he couldn’t rub it in.

“I’ll make sure you can’t get us two points down” Miguel hummed as he kept up at your pace. You could feel your blood boiling, god he’s such an asshole. “I’ll email you if I need help” you scoffed.

“Can I get your number? I won’t get the email since my inbox is always spamming” Miguel lied with a smile “fine” you muttered out your number and walked off before he could stop you.

‘Real classy, I wasn’t done talking’ popped up on your screen “Well I am” you messaged back. You were well aware it was Miguel and you didn’t need him to piss you off more than usual.

The second you stepped into your apartment you let out a relieved sigh. Oh, how you missed this place in these insufferable hours. You put on some comfy panties and an oversized hoodie.

You were laid in your living room, soft carpet under you as you finished up some of the slides for your presentation. The knock at your door was the last thing you needed, you groaned in agony as you hated the thought of getting up from your warm spot.

The knocking grew and so did your patience’s “IM COMING!” You yelled. You pulled the door open and lo and behold, Miguel. “For fuck sake man” you whined.

“Glad to see you too!” He smiled as he pushed past you with books in hand. Miguel was born with the talent of hiding his emotions, that talent was most useful here.

He took a deep breath as you opened the door. Your pretty thighs glowing under the baggy hoodie, hair a slight mess and the satisfying look of anger on your face could’ve made him harm.

“Excuse you” you hissed.

He plotted down next to your things and got straight to work. You stood in shock, did he just walk in like this was his house? “Well go ahead and get comfortable” you mocked as you slammed the door in annoyance.

“I am” he sighed as he stretched and leaned onto your couch.

The both of you bickered and sneered at each other the whole time you both worked but even then, the quality was always top-notch.

He didn’t like the way you formatted the information and you didn’t like how he took up a whole slide for a few sentences but both of you compromised. After a few hours, things were less tense, and both of you got used to each other.

“So what do you plan on doing with your major?” You asked, legs crossed and some candy in your mouth as you questioned him “Biochemist” he nodded “It’s always been a passion of mine”

“You sure do have the brains for it” you chuckled. “You don’t with the 98%” he teased. You rolled your eyes, your mood now soured as you remembered his shenanigans.

“Don’t start” you scoff as you get up to get some drinks “Hey hey I’m joking” he laughs, his hand stopping you from leaving as he holds your wrist “I know Sherlock, I’m going to get some drinks for us” you mutter with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he laughed awkwardly, his eyes watching as you grabbed two glasses of water. “So what about you?” Miguel asked “What are you doing with a chemistry major”

“Probably chemical engineering, I’m not sure yet” You shrugged as you handed him the cup. He nodded and watched you sit next to him. Miguel scooted a little closer making you stiffen, sure he was a pain in the ass but he’s sadly one of the most gorgeous guys you’ve seen.

You tried to ignore your thoughts each time he’d stretch and groan, his moans making you think about how he’d sound if it were from pleasure. He’d be vocal you thought.

“Let’s watch something on the TV” you awkwardly smiled as you grabbed the remote and turned on your TV, you laid on your stomach, forgetting you only had panties and a hoodie.

Miguel’s eyes watched you kick your feet up, your glowy legs looking perfect as you looked through whatever you were putting on.

He noticed the pink panties you had on, his tongue instinctively licking his bottom lip as he thought about how good you’d look on top of him. He can imagine it, tits in his face and pussy sleeving his cock as he fucked you full.

He was going to give himself a boner if he kept it up. He focused his eyes on the screen and sighed in relief as you sat back up. You put on your favorite show and sat next to Miguel “We’re almost done with the assignment which is good, how about a few more minutes of break and we get back to work?” You smiled. “Sure”

You felt his hand move behind you, his arm resting above the couch as he let out yet again another ‘stretch’ while his eyes looked at you through his peripheral, you chuckled. How cliche.

You smiled as you decided to make your cliche move. It was obvious there was tension between you two, whether that be anger or sexual, it didn’t matter. “Let me get more gummies” you hummed as you turned to the table beside you and arched your back slightly, an audible moan coming from behind you as your ass was on perfect display.

You sat back beside him, gummies in hand and an innocent look on your face as you offered him some. He scoffed, shaking his head and looking back at the TV. Your eyes widened as you noticed the thick bulge straining against his pants.

“Eyes up” Miguel cockily cooed as he watched your eyes closely. “I- I wasn’t-“You made a pathetic attempt to save yourself but he cut you off “Uh huh uh huh, I know” he mocked.

He smiled down at you with accomplishment, he finally made you shut up for once. “Not going to give me a snarky comeback?” He cooed. “Shut up already God, stop it” you hissed, your eyes rolling as you moved away from him.

“No no” Miguel’s voice made you shiver as his hand held your thigh “I’m playing” he pouted as he glared down at you. You could punch him right but instead, you did something you thought you’d never do.

You pushed him on the couch and slammed your lips on his. Miguel’s hands immediately wrapped around your waist, a loud moan spilling into your mouth as he finally tasted you.

It seemed like Miguel was waiting for you to do this, his hands ran up your thighs hungrily before he flipped you onto your back. You gasped as he spread your legs around his waist.

His behemoth of a body spread your legs wide as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You tangled your fingers into his hair as both of you hungrily kissed each other.

The kisses were messy and rough, teeth nipping at skin and tongues lapping at each other like two animals in heat. None of you even said a word, just heavy breaths, moans, and pure lust.

Suddenly Miguel pulled back from your lips, his eyes glaring into yours as he hovered above you. You could feel yourself getting ready for some snarky comment as you watched his lips curve into a smile.

“You kissed me first”

You groaned as you pushed him off, his hands still on your hips as he flipped you back onto his lap “hey I’m not complaining, It’s just funny since I piss you of so much” he sighed. His palm moved up to your jaw, face brushing against his hand as you took in his warmth.

He watched you lean into his palm like a cat, his body heating up as he realized how small you look in his lap. Your thighs small compared to his but still plump and pretty.

“Can I kiss you again” you shyly asked slightly afraid that he’s reject. “You don’t have to ask me, just do it” Miguel hummed as he pulled you into a kiss.

The kisses were now more sensual and soft, both of you now grinding into each other. His hand curled onto the back of your neck; the other palm pinned behind your spine.

You were glued onto his chest as Miguel’s warmth filled your senses. You’ve never been so warm in your life, the feeling making you tingly as he held you as close as possible. It felt like nothing in the world could hurt you, you felt safe.

“Please” you whispered onto his lips. He tried to not make you mad but he loved seeing you angry “Please what?” He taunts, his lips hovering over your jaw and neck but never touching you.

“Mig don’t tease” you whined as you hit his chest lightly “I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re saying please for” his arms clinging around your waist as he takes in your sweet scent.

You decided to play your games “I want you inside me mig, want to show you how much I need you” you cooed, your hand running down his abdomen and stopping just above his bulge. His breath hitched at your words, he didn’t know if you were fucking with him or not.

“Oh yeah?” Miguel watched you with focused eyes, his hands running up the sides of your thighs and squeezing your ass “You want me to fuck some manners into you? That loud fucking mouth of yours is always pissing me off” he cooed.

Loud fucking mouth? Your hand went up to smack his face in anger but he caught your wrist before you could “Don’t even try it muñeca.” He sternly said “You won’t like what comes with that”

You angrily kissed him as he pressed you flush against his aching cock, his hands pull the baggy hoodie off your body leaving you in your matching panties and bra.

“Fuck” he whispered, hands on your waist as he took in the view he’s been dreaming of since the day he met you. The amount of times he’d imagine fucking your mouth until you shut up was concerning.

You pulled his shirt off in need, throwing it behind you as you ran your hands up his thick muscular chest. He hummed at your soft hands running up his skin.

“Sit up for me?” He mumbled against your skin as he kicked off his sweats. He smiled at how obediently you did as he said “You look prettier when you do as I say” Miguel mocked.

You could care less about his words as his calloused hands pulled your panties off in need “Just shut up and fuck me” you panted. Miguel smiled as he felt your lips pepper all over his jaw and onto his lips, he could see you were just as eager for him as he was for you.

“Beg” he blurted. You ignored him as you rubbed his cock between your folds, both of you letting out moans as you felt each other's warmth. Miguel seethed, arms pinning you up to his chest “Listen”

You hated that you got turned on by the fact that he now had you restricted with just one hand as the other held your jaw up “you want the guy you despise to fuck you? You tell me you hate me every time you see me but look so eager to fuck me”

You were tired of his teasing, you let out a desperate whine, you could see his cock spring up and his tip leaking precum. But like always, Miguel likes to rile you up.

“Beg” he repeated. “Please mig please, just stop teasing ok” you cried. “All you needed to listen to was this?” He purred, hands moving onto your hips as he thrusts into you.

Miguel let out a gruntled moan as he felt your warm wet walls hug him tight, his head falling back onto the couch as he finally felt your pussy squeeze him.

He watched your eyes squeeze shut while you let out the prettiest moans “f- fuck!” You cried, the stretch making you clench even tighter around him as he held you down to his lap.

His cock was fully buried inside you in one go, he’s the biggest you’ve had in every way. It was overwhelming feeling how full you were, you could feel his curves and the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix.

“Breath chula, r- relax” he sighed. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded, you took a deep breath allowing you to make it easier for him to move. “That’s it” he hummed onto your shoulder.

It only took Miguel a few seconds for him to start fucking you onto his lap, your body shaping into his hands, allowing him to use your pussy like a flesh light.

“O- Mig mi-“ you whined out, you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. Your whole body was tingling in pleasure as he rammed into you with pure force. Maybe you did piss him off a lot.

“What? You c- can’t take it? Such a big fucking mouth but can’t take my dick?” He seethed. You let out a pathetic whine at his words, your mind completely fogged in pleasure as you took all of him.

Miguel’s eyes couldn’t leave your pussy, his eyebrows scrunched and his mouth agar as he watched your pussy struggling to take his size. He hissed as you pushed him onto the couch, using his shoulders for support as you bounced onto his lap.

Your pretty moans filled his ears as you took control. Miguel let you take control for a bit, he loved watching how eager you rode him. Your body bounces on his lap, wet sounds of skin slapping echoing into the room.

“Making such a fucking mess” he huffed with a smile on his face, although he was loving this, he wanted to see you completely vulnerable. He thought maybe he was a little sick for wanting to see someone who hated him so much completely ruined under him but he loved it.

You gasped as Miguel lifted you onto the ground, your back hit the soft carpet under you as he stayed buried inside you. “Gotta fuck that stupid little attitude out honey, always disrespecting me. You’re the only one who tries to push my buttons. I love it” he cooed.

Miguel’s calloused hands bend your legs to the side, giving him full access to your tight cunt. “Go- god shi- fuck!” Miguel panted, he was a complete fucking mess.

Sure Miguel’s fucked a few people in his life, but he had no idea if it was just the thought of fucking the life out of you or how perfect your body was for him. He convinced himself it was both.

You clawed and scratched at his chest, your eyes full of tears as he brutally pounded into your “m- Mig I-“You were even more fucked out than him. How couldn’t you?

You had no clue where he got his stamina from, it felt like he’d been fucking you for hours. “Can’t believe you tried to slap me, should I return the favor?” Miguel hissed.

You nodded to his surprise “Please” you whined. “You want me to hit you?” He was surprised by your plead. He knew you’d be a freak in the sheets but you were always so aggressive with him that he expected you to hit him for even suggesting it.

“You’re always a pain in my ass but you just want to be taken care of huh?… What? You need me to pound your pretty pussy out for you to treat me with some respect?”

You nodded eagerly, if you were being honest you couldn’t even take in his words. Your pussy clenched and throbbed around his fat cock in agony but you were taken by surprise when a slap landed on your face “Use your words” he hissed.

Almost immediately you cried “Yes yes! Miguel please I nee- need it, f- fuck ah!”

Miguel chuckled, his hips angled a bit higher which allowed him to hit the perfect stop. His hand flew around your throat, his hips pounding you onto the floor as he let out animalistic moans.

“M- Mig- ah fff- fuckk!” You cried. The restriction of your breathing mixed with his rough pounds caused orgasm hit you hard as your pussy throbbed around him, the tip of his cock nudging at your sweet spot continuously.

Miguel’s eyes rolled back as he felt your nails claw at his arms, your small hand wrapped around his wrist as he fucked you balls deep. His cock plunged into your messy cunt as his balls slapped onto you. “That’s I- that’s-“ he hissed.

He thought about pulling out for both of your sakes but he’d rather just buy you a plan B. “C- can I- inside?” He seethed his eyes burning into yours as you bounced to his thrusts.

You couldn’t get a word out but your legs wrapping around his waist and your nails digging into his back to pull him closer gave him the answer. His lips crashed onto yours as he spilled inside you, his moans spilling into your mouth as his fingers dug into your hips.

He’s never had an orgasm that hard, he was sweating and out of breath as he stilled inside you. The both of you cling onto each other in fear of either of you leaving but that was on the last of your minds.

Miguel lay beside you, his arms pulling you into his as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Was I too rough?” He questioned with concern as he now fully took in how fucked out you looked. “No, it was perfect” you weakly muttered as you nuzzled into his chest.

Miguel sighed in relief as your sweaty body was pinned into his. “Where’s your bedroom?” He hummed as he began to lift you into his arms “left” you sighed as he carried you into your bedroom.

“Let me clean us up and then we can rest yeah? Unless you want me to leav-“

You cut him off before he couldn’t finish “Don’t leave. Please?.” You hummed a bit worried you sounded a little pathetic.

“Wasn’t planning on it love”

#smut #marvel smut #kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel ohara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #moon knight smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel o hara #academic rivals

[navybrat817]

Pencil You In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.

“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.

It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.

Hopefully.

“You should take a break.”

You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.

And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?

But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.

Because you were always expected to do and be more.

“I will in a few minutes,” you said.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.

You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.

“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.

Reading the subject line, you did a double take.

CUDDLE WITH BUCKY

You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”

“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”

“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.

At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?

Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?

Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”

Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”

“What is it you always tell me about work?”

“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”

He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”

“Be present,” you finished.

No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.

“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.

“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.

Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.

It was as if all the stress faded away.

“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.

“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?

“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”

The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.

And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.

I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[happy74827]

Unspoken Gestures

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After seeing how overly stressed your closest friend was, you decided to take matters into your own hands to ease his load.

WC: 3,210

Category: Fluff

I’m sorry but he was so fine in the movie. Anyways-

『••✎••』

Mike was… he was something. Some would say he was grumpy, and others say he was just downright cold, but you liked to think of him as a reserved kind of person. Sure, he was a bit awkward and unassertive, but he was also one of the nicest guys you knew.

It wasn't even because of his good looks. Well, maybe a little bit, but that wasn't what attracted you to him. It was his kindness. His love for his family, his baby sister. The way he'd dropped everything for her when it became just them. You loved how passionate he was when it came to protecting those he cared about. It's what drew you to him in the first place, really.

That and his face. That dumb smile, that little bit of stubble, those alluring hazel eyes. Those cheeks, that adorable laugh…

God, that laugh. You loved hearing it. It wasn't all that often that he would laugh, but when he did, it made your heart flutter. It made you want to hear it again and again, to make him laugh so much that his stomach hurt and his cheeks flushed with happiness.

He was so sweet, but sometimes he was closed off. He didn't always have the best days or the best attitude. Being a parent to your sister for the past year would’ve worn anyone out, of course, but he never really talked about it. You wanted to be there for him, you wanted to support him, you wanted him to be happy, but you couldn't if he wouldn't talk about it.

It wasn't until a few weeks ago that you even realized you liked him, like actually liked him. You knew the feelings had been there for a long time, but they were always there in the back of your mind. Now that they were there and present, it was like a light had been turned on.

You wanted to be there for him. You wanted to be the one he came to when he needed to relax. You wanted to be the shoulder he leaned on when he was down. You wanted to be the other person he turned to when he needed someone. You wanted to be able to take some of the burden off his shoulders.

You wanted to support him the same way he had supported Abby when she needed him to. You wanted to help him, even if he never needed it, even if he was a bit cold sometimes. Even if he was a bit awkward and maybe just a little bit shy.

That was why you decided to help him take the stress off his shoulders on your day off. He didn't have much of a sleep schedule, with his night shift job and being a parent to his little sister, and you knew he wouldn't turn down help, so that morning, you decided to clean up his house while Abby was at school and he was out running emergency errands. You started small, picking up trash and setting it by the door to throw out. You folded his clothes that had been lying around and piled them on his bed. You picked up the dishes and wiped down the counters. You scrubbed down the kitchen sink. You swept the living room floor. You vacuumed the carpet. You washed the windows.

And you did it all with a smile on your face.

When you were done, you wrote up a quick note telling him where everything was before you left, leaving it in the kitchen. The house looked nice, really nice, and it smelled like lemons. You knew he'd appreciate that. He loved that smell and said it reminded him of when his dad used to make his lemonade when he was a kid.

With that taken care of, you decided to head back to your apartment and change out of your cleaning clothes. When you got back to your place, you took a quick shower and changed into some sweats. You were going to make some lunch for yourself, but you were so tired after all that cleaning. So, you made yourself a big bowl of ice cream and curled up on the couch.

You were halfway through the movie you were watching when the door to your apartment opened. For a moment, you thought it was a robber breaking into your house, but when you saw Mike's presence near the entryway of the kitchen, you remembered that you had given Mike a key months ago when he was over one night to help fix the sink in the guest bathroom.

He was wearing his usual green jacket, but the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and the collar was undone. His hair was ruffled and a bit sweaty, and he looked tired, really tired. It must have been a long day for him.

"Uh, hey," He muttered, his voice a bit raspy. His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie, and you could tell he was a bit stiff. He seemed a bit awkward.

"Hi, Mike." You greeted warmly, trying not to sound like you were excited that he was there. Truthfully, him showing up at your place was the last thing you expected, but you didn't let that show on your face.

"You look exhausted. How was your day?" You asked, setting your half-finished bowl of ice cream on the coffee table in front of you.

He didn't answer right away, instead wandering further into your apartment, taking his hands out of his hoodie pocket to rub at his eyes. You watched as he turned and dropped his jacket and keys on the armchair of your living room couch, moving around as though he was on autopilot, his mind elsewhere. "It’s fine," he responded after a few moments of silence. "Same as always."

He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck, his voice low and his eyes heavy. He looked like he was about to fall over any minute. It was a little bit cute, but you had to do something to get him to relax a little bit.

"You should be home in bed," You chided lightly, sitting up straighter and pointing to the couch. "Mike, not to be blunt, but you look terrible. You need to get some sleep."

"I had to come here first," Mike mumbled, sounding like he was almost asleep already as he flopped down onto the couch and kicked his legs up over the side. "The house was a mess when I left, now it's...I mean...I..." He stammered, his voice growing quieter.

"Hey," you interrupted, a small smile tugging at your lips as you rested a hand on his shoulder. He was warm, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders, the stress he'd built up over the course of the week. "It's fine, I promise."

He was still, almost as though he didn't hear you at first. Then, after a moment, he tilted his head toward you. He seemed almost dazed, as though he wasn't entirely with you, but he gave you a small, tired smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter.

Mike leaned back into the couch cushions and let his eyes slide shut as he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. You were worried that maybe he'd nodded off, but when he spoke, you realized he was just resting his eyes.

"Why? Why do you keep helping me? You don't...you shouldn't have to do this for me." He asked softly, his eyes still shut, as though he wasn't entirely there. He was vulnerable, you could tell, but he was trusting you with his thoughts, sharing them with you.

You brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before answering him, leaning back into the couch, closer to him. "I'm helping you because I want to. I want to be there for you."

Mike's eyes opened, but he didn't look at you. Instead, he kept his gaze on the ceiling, studying the cracks in the paint and the stain that was on the plaster. He let out another slow breath, leaning further back into the couch and relaxing a bit like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes sliding shut again as if he was trying to rest. You knew he wouldn't sleep there on the couch, not comfortably anyway, so you leaned forward and took his hand, trying to get his attention.

Finally, when his eyes opened for the second time, his gaze fell on you, and you felt like he was looking right into your soul. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other, neither of you speaking. You figured it was because of his exhaustion, but the way he looked at you was different from before. He didn't look tired or tired of you. He didn't look angry or irritated, not even annoyed.

Instead, his gaze was softer, more inviting. He wasn't looking through you anymore. Instead, he was looking at you. Really looking at you. He was studying your face, trying to see who you were and how you worked, what made you tick. He was looking at you the way you had always wanted him to look at you.

He leaned forward, slowly as if he were worried you would push him away, but you didn't move. He moved closer and closer until you felt his breath on your lips, and his eyes were fluttering closed. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his skin and the closeness of his body. You could smell his sweat, his shampoo, and the deodorant he used, and it was a mix of things that sent your head spinning.

"I don't...I don't get you." He muttered, his voice so low you almost didn't hear him. "I don't understand why you like me. I don't get it, I don't..."

He stopped, his breath still on your lips, and you opened your eyes to look at him. He was staring at you, looking you in the eyes, and you could see that he was hurting. He had always been so reserved, so closed off, and it was something you hated. You didn't like how much he hurt himself over the little things that people didn't even care about.

But, right now, you weren't going to focus on how closed off he was. You were going to focus on him. You were going to focus on Mike and the way his eyes shone in the light, how he was so close to you that you could feel his skin, how his mouth was just a hairsbreadth away from yours.

You were going to focus on the fact that he had trusted you. He had let you into his mind and his heart, and he had let you see him in his most vulnerable state. He was telling you how he felt without saying a word, and you could tell that he was trying to work up the courage to speak. You were going to focus on how beautiful his eyes were.

It was dark in your apartment, and the light from the paused television screen illuminated his face. It made his eyes glow a bit, and it made him look almost magical, almost otherworldly, like an angel or a god. Like something so good that it couldn't be real. He looked like something you were too afraid to touch, something you were too scared to break. He looked like something you wanted to protect, and he was so close to you, so warm and comforting, that you didn't know what to do.

"It's because..." Your voice was low, quiet, almost like a whisper. The two of you were so close that your lips were practically brushing against each other, and you were suddenly aware of how hard your heart was pounding. "Because you're such a sweetheart, Mike. You always have been. I like you because I know that you care. I know that you'd do anything for the people you care about."

He looked at you for a moment, and it seemed like he wasn't really there, like he was in another world. Then, he seemed to come back to you, his eyes refocusing on you as if he'd forgotten that you were there, and his jaw fell open just a little. His breathing was deep but quick as if he'd been running a marathon. He swallowed hard, his mouth clicking as his gaze darted between your eyes.

"I'm...I'm not that sweet," He muttered, his gaze finally falling back to yours. "I can get pretty rough. Especially with... certain things."

That made you snap out of your own reverie, your face flushing with heat as you processed what he'd said. He constantly said things that didn't mean the way you had. Of course, you knew that. But this time, with that look in his eyes, he didn't sound like he meant it as stress.

"I don't think Abby would appreciate that type of talk, Michael." you teased, leaning just a little bit closer to him.

"Good thing she's not here then, huh?" He asked, his tone playful. He had that smile on his face again. It was a different smile than the one before. The first smile had been sweet. This one was mischievous and playful, and it made your heart do a flip.

"Mike-"

But you didn't get to finish your thought before he slowly lifted his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you toward him, gently, so gently, like you were made of glass. His lips were warm, and you could feel his soft stubble brush against your cheeks. He didn't move at all, he didn't rush, he didn't even press into you. Instead, he let you take the lead. He let you kiss him.

His hand slowly moved to the side of your face, his thumb gently stroking your skin as you leaned further into him. You closed your eyes and felt your body relax, releasing all the tension you had been holding in your body. It was as if everything was melting away, and the two of you were left in this little moment together.

His lips were soft against yours, and he kissed you so slowly, so sweetly, as though he had all the time in the world. You had never felt a kiss like that. Sure, you'd had some passionate kisses, some sloppy makeout sessions, but this...this was different.

This was the first kiss that you actually wanted, that you had wanted for years, and it was so sweet and so soft. His hand slowly slid down your body until it rested on your hip, pulling you closer to him, but he still didn't rush. He didn't want to take what he wanted. He wasn't being selfish. No, he was giving you a choice, he was letting you take the lead and take the power.

You felt his fingers curl into the hem of your shirt, but you pulled away, opening your eyes to look at him. You could feel your face heating up, your skin burning from the blush that had formed on your cheeks, and he let his hand slide under your shirt, his fingers slowly tracing circles over your hip.

His lips were still parted as though he was ready to speak, but no words came out. His eyes were half-closed and his hair was still a mess from when he'd been running his hands through it, and you had the urge to do the same thing to him. You had the urge to run your fingers through his hair and tell him how much you cared.

"Mike," you whispered softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. His hand slid over your hip and down to your thigh, and you bit your lip at the sensation of his skin on yours. His gaze was heated, and he was so close, so close that you could feel the heat of his body and the softness of his breath. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to keep going, but you knew his schedule, practically by memory at this point.

"It's noon." You whispered, looking up at him from where you had laid your head against his shoulder, his fingers tracing shapes on your thigh. "If you don't get home soon, you'll be late for Abby."

'Yeah, I know," he muttered, his eyes finally averted from yours. He stared off to the side, but you could still see the longing in his expression, the way his lips had parted slightly, as though he were thinking about kissing you again. "I gotta take a shower too." He added.

"And nap." You pointed out.

Mike huffed softly, closing his eyes for a moment before getting up and stretching his arms above his head. He let out another yawn, the kind of big, wide yawn that made his shoulders hunch up. He still looked like he wanted to kiss you, but the exhaustion was weighing him down, and he was fading fast.

"Right," he muttered, taking his hands out of his pockets to rub at his eyes, which were looking just a bit more droopy by the minute. He didn't move, though. He just stood there, looking like he wanted to stay, but he also wanted to go.

"Be careful on the way home." You teased, rising to your feet. "Don't fall asleep behind the wheel."

"I'm not that tired," Mike responded quickly, letting his arms drop to pick up keys off the armchair where his jacket was. He shoved them in his pocket as you headed toward the door, opening it for him. "And if I was, I wouldn't crash my car," He muttered.

You paused at the door, your hand still on the handle as he stopped just in front of you. His gaze fell on yours again, and he looked like he wanted to say something. His eyes were sparkling, and his lips were parted just a little. You felt like you could see his thoughts just from looking at him, and they were just as sweet as the kiss he'd given you.

But he didn't speak, and you knew he wasn't going to. He just stared at you for a long moment before nodding and walking out, pausing only to shut the door behind him. You stood there for a moment, not moving, not speaking. You were still reeling from the kiss, trying to piece together what had happened in the span of five minutes.

But, despite your confusion and the way you were reeling, you had a smile on your face. A genuine, wide smile, the kind that made you feel like you could float away if you tried hard enough. The kind of smile that came with your lips feeling like they were about to split in two and your cheeks hurt from the stretch. It was the kind of smile that you didn't have very often, and it was a nice feeling.

And, most importantly, it was a smile that Mike had put there.

#fnaf fanfic #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x female!reader #mike schmidt x you #five nights at freddys movie #fnaf movie #fnaf #michael schmidt x reader #abby schmidt #michael schmidt #fnaf games #five nights at freddy's #reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fnaf fic #fluff #fnaf fandom #fnaf spoilers #five nights at freddys spoilers #josh hutcherson #female!reader #fnaf fanfiction #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x female reader

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 6:34

do u want to celebrate your bday, mr. great explosion murder god dynamight

Bakugou stared at your message for a while. He sits by his study desk, supposedly taking a break from his homework. His brows are contorted to one of contemplation, a pout on his lips as he types in his reply—rather quickly, too.

hell no

(ꃋᴖꃋ)

He shook his head. Bakugou turns off his phone and sets it to the side. 

If anything, he hates and genuinely gets upset with surprises, especially when celebrating his birthday. He doesn’t get it; why people celebrate another year closer to death. When he was younger, he remembered loving the attention, the gifts, and the praise. 

But now that he’s older, he’d much rather just spend time by himself. Maybe cook himself a dish or two to celebrate, but that’s it. He doesn’t need anything grand—not anymore, at the very least.

Then again, why would you be asking him a question like that as if you weren’t on the other side of Japan? He thinks it’s childish; besides, celebrating his birthday is a complete waste of time. He’s a hero-in-training, and so are you, so he’d rather use that time of celebration to either train or study (and he has the audacity to call other people nerds).

Bakugou decides to go to school earlier than normal because he doesn’t want to give those idiots (his classmates) time to even prepare for a surprise party (yes, Kaminari’s horrible at whispering and keeping secrets) for him in the dorms (and also the classroom; it just slipped from the tip of Kirishima’s tongue).

A hand holds onto his shoulder, and by instinct, he moves away from the contact and turns to the person with a scowl. If he weren’t alert, he would’ve blown said person to bits, and yet the moment he hears that familiar laugh, all raised defenses are lowered and his tense shoulders relax.

“What the fuck?”

“Surprise! I knew you’d come to school early,” you greet him with a bear hug. Bakugou scowls as he tries to push you away.

“Kats, I missed you so much! It’s been forever since we last saw each other—”

“How the hell did you get here?”

You grinned, ignoring his non-serious threats of exploding you to the skies. “Come on, Grouchy. I don’t have much time, y’know?” You dragged Bakugou toward one of the private lounge areas within the grounds of U.A., and he’s surprised you knew how to navigate your way around the campus. “Don’t worry, I asked for a bit of help from Midoriya since he’s the only one I know aside from you that goes to this school.”

“That damned—”

“Don’t get mad at him! Getting mad would make you wrinkle quicker, and don’t furrow your brows; I think I’m seeing wrinkled lines in your forehead.”

“You—”

“There’s no time for scolding me, Kats!” You held up a bento cake to him. 

He notices the two little boxes of what he assumed would be his presents behind you and the lighter you used to light up the candle. He thinks it’s wasteful when he could’ve just lit it up himself with his Quirk. Then again, he couldn’t really do anything anymore because what’s done is done.

The cake itself was thoughtful. Frosted with light orange frosting, decked out with what he assumed were mini explosions made out of fondant at the sides and a little lettering that said, “hbd dynamight,” with a little spark of red, orange, and black at the end of the sentence. 

Bakugou looks back on it, and the realization dawns on him.

This is the first time someone—aside from his parents—made the effort to give him a cake for his birthday. 

“Do you want me to sing happy birthday?” You ask when he doesn’t immediately blow out the candle.

“Fuck, no.” He rolled his eyes and took a moment before doing so.

“You didn’t have to do all this, nerd.”

“But I wanted to.”

That made Bakugou smile, even if it was only a little. “Thanks.”

“You’re seventeen now, and that is one year older than being a senior citizen,” he chuckled, “and as always, don’t smoke, drink, or do anything that would get your hero license revoked. Lessen the frown and turn it upside down; remember that I’m an awesome friend for remembering your favorite cake flavor even if you don’t eat it often—and finally, happy birthday, Kats.”

His heart is beating too quickly as he tries to play it cool by nodding to everything you said. He’s missed this, though he’d rather die than tell you that, knowing damn well you would never let him live it down.

“Whatever, you sap.” Bakugou stuck out his tongue, and you did as well.

“Well— shit, I have to go before I miss the next train.”

“Don’t have morning classes, then? Shiketsu’s a four-hour commute from here.”

“Uh huh. Remember—”

“Yeah, yeah. Cake goes in the fridge if I don’t want to eat it, and send you a video of me opening your gift. I hope it’s not ass, like last year’s mug with our picture on it.”

“Hey–! It was a very good picture,” you replied. “I have one too, just so you know,” you chuckled after finishing packing everything up. “Because it’s cool to match mugs. Really good way to strengthen our relationship. It makes you think of me whenever you have your morning coffee or tea.”

He snorts. “As if, nerd.”

Bakugou watches you leave, but not before seeing you stumble against your feet, which made him cackle obnoxiously at your misery. With the bento cake and gifts in either of his hands, he thinks this is one of his best birthdays yet. And spending it with you, even if it were only for a short moment, is surprisingly fulfilling.

He may start to enjoy surprises if they were this pleasant.

Now he just has to worry about getting back to the dorms without being seen by any of the idiots that would pester him about where he got his cake and gifts from.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo drabble #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha drabbles #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha drabble #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou

[lust4lore]

Rafe + casual dominance. That’s it. That’s all.

oh, anon, you have a big big beautiful brain. not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but my mind is still stuck on dumb!reader and brattamer!rafe so here you go

CW: mention of alcohol, mildly dark!rafe?

your lack of critical thinking skills annoys the fuck out of him, he thinks, but deep down rafe cameron loves the way you depend on him.

he’s there when you’re making rounds at a bonfire, blissfully unaware of your surroundings. a large hand rests on your lower back, lightly guiding you through the crowd and yanking you close when you narrowly miss bumping into someone. god, you’re so fucking stupid, anger flares in his veins and his fingers dig into your ribs. but then, you look up at him, doe eyes empty as you giggle a soft ‘thank you, rafey’, and his resolve goes up like smoke. a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth as he nods, mind settling once more.

he’s there when you’re cooking something on the stove, hair coming way too close to the open flame for his liking as you mindlessly tilt your head. he comes up behind you, grabbing your hair and jerking your head back until you’re looking up at him. ‘y’know, sweetheart, sometimes i think you don’t use your fuckin’ head’ he sighs, tying a messy bun atop your head. he takes your jaw roughly in his hand, planting a firm kiss on your lips before smacking you chidingly on the ass and heading back to his seat at the counter.

he’s there to cut you off after you’ve had a little too much to drink, taking away what would’ve been your next shot and letting the bartender know you’ll have a water instead. ‘alright, you’re done for the night. no more’ he tells you, but the vodka in your system has other plans, and you scoff before reaching for the glass again as he raises it over your head. ‘no m’not, rafe, give it back’ your words are high pitched and slurred at the edges, a muffled yelp leaving you as he squeezes your face between calloused fingers, leaning in close. ‘stop being a brat, i said you’re done for the night. quit whining’ his eyes are dark and angry, something in his tone making your thighs clench and your stomach drop.

you infuriate him endlessly, you’re one of the biggest bimbos he’s ever met. but you’re his bimbo, and that’s all that really matters.

#𓇼 indigo writes! #𓇼 blurburburb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #rafe obx #outer banks #obx fic #rafe outer banks

[mediumgayitalian]

Will knows who it is at the first light brush on his shoulders.

He tips his head back back, bumping his boyfriend’s hip, leaning into the hand on his trapezius, his scapula, the base of his neck.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

“Hi,” Nico says, leaning down to press his smile onto Will’s forehead. His hair tickles his cheeks, and he smells like woodsmoke and citrus, and Will slides his hand across his jaw and tugs him closer.

“Errand done?”

“Yep.”

“Lord Hades pleased?”

“As much as he ever is.” Nico shifts, kissing the corner of his mouth, the curve of his chin, the shape of his jaw. “My ears are ringing from five days of quiet. Even the echoing sound of lost souls cannot compete with your constant blabbing; I hardly knew what to do with myself.”

“Oh, shut up. You love my chatterin’.” He smacks the side of Nico’s head, but it’s hard to play mad when he’s smiling, shameless, wide enough that his teeth nick Will’s cheekbones, that his snickers are muffled into his skin.

“If I wanted to be stuck with someone who yaps nonstop I would’ve stayed down with Cerebus. In fact he might shed less, and he doesn’t drool when he sleeps.”

“…I do not shed.”

Nico plants both hands next to Will’s head, heaving himself up, and scans his camp shirt. Within three seconds, he locates a strand of hair, pinches it off, and flicks it at Will’s face.

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, for the love of — get over here,” Will demands. Laughing, Nico goes where Will tugs him, curling up next to him on the bench. “You’re such a shit. Normal people are much kinder to the significant annoyances they leave behind for five days, you know.”

“Are they.”

Nico lifts his arm in offering and Will accepts with relish, tucking himself under it and making certain to drag his curls down Nico’s face in the process.

“Yep. In fact I was expecting hand-written letters by day two, honestly, telling me how much you missed me and how the distance was physically painful, et cetera, et cetera. Maybe a sonnet or two. Italian, preferably, Elizabethan are not my favourite.”

“You’re very picky.”

Will sniffs haughtily. “Well, I’m a catch. You have lots of competition, you know. I was fighting them off while you were away but now that you come back and insult me upon reunion, I shall reevaluate my options.”

He feels more than hears the quiet laughter Nico presses in his hair, thumb brushing his collar, dipping onto bare skin.

“Is that so.”

“Indeed. My suitors have even offered a dowry quite handsome. I’m worth twenty-seven goats, didn’t you know.”

“Oh, well then. I might as well return what I brought for you, since I’m not sure I can outshine two dozen goats.”

The cool thing about being a son of Apollo is that Will has range. His dad is the god of arts, generally, up to and especially the dramatic ones. Will knows how to school his face into the perfect mask, how to smile on command and cry as desired, how to deliver a line and bow with a flourish. Playing a part comes as naturally as breathing, as naturally as healing.

“A present?” he asks, checking his nails as if the mere thought bores him. “That’s interesting, I guess.”

Nico doesn’t even bother to indulge him.

“Here, you massive dweeb,” he snorts. He hands over a small paper box, hand-folded and thin. “I can practically feel you vibrating.”

There is only one thing in this world, quite possibly, that Will likes more than proving Nico wrong, and that is letting his boyfriend spoil him. In all honesty it’s a real challenge sometimes, because Nico is really very good at being everything Will has ever wanted even if he has wrong opinions on most movies. Truly Will’s life is a joke at which the gods must howl with laughter.

Eagerly taking the box, he holds it up to his face, carefully inspecting every corner. The paper is regular printer paper, slightly waterlogged (from the Big House printer, then, ‘cause Will was carrying a giant bag of saline in from storage when he was eleven years old and tripped on the shipment of office supplies that someone had left, for some reason, in the middle of the fucking hallway, and the bag had exploded on impact all over four boxes of printer paper holding one thousand pages each) and carefully bent into shape. He recognises Nico’s handiwork from the dozens of origami paper sculptures he’s been gifted over the past few months.

“Open it.”

“What is it?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “What did I just say.”

“No, I mean — it’s not my birthday or anything.”

“So?”

“So you’ve wrapped me up a present! I want to know why before I open it.”

“Just because,” Nico mumbles, pressing a kiss to his temples. “Not everything needs a reason, nosey.”

“If nothing had reason then we would still be premordial soup,” Will mutters, but pops open the lid anyway.

He gasps.

“Oh my gods, Nico, you —”

Nico’s smiling smugly, but Will barely notices. Inside the box is a black chain darker than shadow, so dark it doesn’t even glint in the heavy sun, and dozens of little charms, from polished obsidian to a ball of slowly flickering flame.

“You like?”

“It’s gorgeous!”

He makes a triumphant nose, pumping his fist, and says, “Fuck those suitors, I fucking win,” and the funniest part is that he’s damn serious. There’s a glint in his eye identical to when he wins a sword fight, to when Connor loses a bet to him, to when twenty-odd bets are stacked against him and he’s got a full house. Something dangerous and wild and superior and Will is not an enabler, okay, he is not, but he is only so strong and there is only so much he can do when pretty boys wrap their arms around him and smirk at him and bring him bracelets they made in the Underworld. He’d like to meet someone who wouldn’t fold, actually.

“There were no suitors, you loser,” he says, but he’s flushed, pleased smile stretched wide across his face, and Nico’s grinning that too-wide grin and tilting Will’s face closer with the edge of his thumb, like he barely had to try. And there’s always a little bit of shadow leeching off him when he comes back from a quest, an aura surrounding him like he’s squaring off to the sun, and of course the wild churning in Will’s stomach has nothing to do with that but what’s he to do, really? What is a warm-blooded person with eyes that can see to do when faced with such a look?

“Of course there aren’t. They know I would reap their actual souls.”

“Possessive, much.”

“You’re literally going red.”

“Shut up.”

And he does, but only because Will makes him.

Although judging by the hand he shoves in his hair, he doesn’t seem to mind.

#i just think!! nico has game okay #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #whipped will solace #whipped nico di angelo #flirting #bad flirting #100 ways #100 ways to say i love you #establisbed relationship #establisbed solangelo #my writing #fic #longpost

[theonewiththefanfics]

The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)

Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that... 

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)

Word count: 3028

Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.

But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.

Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.

He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.

When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.

He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.

It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.

When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.

“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.

For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.

He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.

Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.

***

Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.

Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.

She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.

He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.

“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.

The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.

But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.

Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.

Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.

Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.

Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.

They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.

The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.

Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.

Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.

Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.

She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.

Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.

And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.

The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.

Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.

The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.

Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.

Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.

She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.

“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.

But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.

“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”

She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.

“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”

After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.

But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.

***

When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.

“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.

“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”

That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.

Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.

Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.

“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”

If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.

When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.

It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.

A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.

He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.

At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.

Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.

“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”

To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.

She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”

Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”

She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.

Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.

No longer were they afraid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): 

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @m-a-t-91​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​ @strangersstranger​

Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @screemqueen​ @mrsmalfoyshelby​ @theamuz​ @lyarr24​

A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)

P.S. hope you liked this :)

P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy angst #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby angst #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n

[beom-pyu]

truth or drink! (couples edition): choi yeonjun

based off those truth or drink videos by cut on yt! who's next?

other parts: beomgyu & taehyun "my ex + my boyfriend edition" soobin "engaged edition" kai "blind date edition"

nsfw! (minors dni.)

welcome to truth or drink! couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.

“hi, i’m y/n.”

“and i’m yeonjun.”

how long have you guys been together?

YOU: “nine months.”

YJ: “nine months, really? i thought it was already a year.”

YOU: “that friends with benefits stage doesn’t count, i think.”

YJ: “ohhh, okay, okay.”

how did you meet?

YOU: “we had a class together in our freshman year of college and i thought he was sexy.”

YJ: “that’s it? you weren’t like attracted to my kind nature and generosity?”

YOU: “no, you just looked like you had good dick.”

yeonjun shrugs at the camera, a small smile on his lips.

YEONJUN: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever said about me to your friends?

you immediately reach for the bottle of fireball, pouring your shot glass to the very top. yeonjun glances at you, to the camera, and back to you, a disbelieving puff of laughter leaving his lips.

YJ: “was it that bad?”

YOU: “you used to be an asshole, jun.”

YJ: “...okay, fair.”

YOU: when was the last time you masturbated, and where was i?

YJ: “this morning. and you were right next to me.”

YOU: “why didn’t you wake me up?”

YJ: “you’re like the devil reincarnated in the morning.”

YOU: “i thought you were into that?”

YJ: “...”

you smile as yeonjun quickly pours himself a shot.

YEONJUN: what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done sexually with an ex?

YOU: “pour me a shot.”

YJ: “no, no, i actually wanna hear this.”

YOU: “oh my god. uh—okay. i fucked one of my exes with a 10 inch tentacle dildo.”

…

YJ: “can we try this sometime?”

YOU: “yeonjun.”

YOU: if i was put in a coma, how long would you wait for me?

YJ: “at least a good… year? maybe two.”

YOU: “wow… you wouldn’t wait an eternity for me? am i not the love of your life?”

YJ: “hell no. you run up my wifi bill.”

YEONJUN: when was the last time you faked an orgasm and why?

YOU: “i've never faked one.”

YJ: “you heard it here, folks.”

YOU: what would you think if you caught me watching porn?

YJ: “without me?”

YOU: “he’s actually said this before.”

YJ: “what if it was me?”

YOU: “‘again?’”

YJ: “okay, next question.”

YEONJUN: if our sex life was a porn genre, what would it be?

YOU: “dominatrix meets pegging meets cuckhold meets—”

YJ: “none of this is true by the way.”

you give him a pointed look

YJ: “some of it is true.”

YOU: have you ever had a crush on any of my friends before we started dating?

YJ: “you never brought me around your friends!”

YOU: “i’m pretty sure i did, like once or twice. it would’ve been awkward 'cause they knew we were fucking.”

YJ: “i brought you around my friends and they knew—wait, did you have a crush on any of my friends?”

YOU: “...pour me another shot, please.”

YEONJUN: name two celebrities you’d want to have sex with if we weren’t together.

you immediately take a shot.

YJ: “woah, wait why?”

YOU: “because i’d like a peaceful drive home.”

YOU: how many sexual partners have you had?

YJ: “maybe like… seven. eight?”

YOU: “you’re lying.”

YJ: “i’m not! do you think i’m a whore?”

YOU: “well, i’m dating you, so yes.”

YEONJUN: have you ever thought about cheating on me?

YOU: “you already know, but i’m taking a shot.”

YJ: “this is actually a funny story. so, there’s this guy named soobin—”

YOU: “okay, slow down—”

YJ: “and y/n didn’t cheat, but they asked if we could have a threesome—”

YOU: “we did have the threesome, by the way.”

YJ: “yes, we did.”

YOU: “we should call him later.”

YJ: “nah, i think we scared him off for good.”

YOU: have you ever considered having an open relationship?

YJ: “surprisingly, no. this is probably the first stable relationship i’ve ever been in and i don’t have any intentions on being with someone else right now.”

YOU: “agreed.”

YJ: “you’re all mine, baby.”

YOU: “...can i take a shot, just for that?”

YJ: “shut up, you love it.”

YEONJUN: what’s the one thing you would change about me?

YOU: “hm… well, you do get super defensive about the littlest things.”

YJ: “i do not! what the hell?”

you deadpan the camera.

YOU: what’s my biggest flaw?

YJ: “you’re like a borderline workaholic.”

YOU: “i agree with that.”

YJ: “and me?”

YOU: “hm… you’re very, very forgetful.”

YJ: “i’m like dory.”

YOU: “yea, except dory is actually cute.”

…

YJ: “is the video almost over?”

YEONJUN: what’s your favorite thing about me?

YOU: “you always manage to make me feel safe and loved, even when my confidence is really low.”

YJ: “woah… i thought you were gonna say my stroke game or something.”

YOU: “i mean… that too.”

YOU: why do you love me?

YJ: “who said i love you?”

YOU: “cut the cameras.”

YJ: “i’m kidding, i’m kidding. um, well i feel like i always have? like we’ve been friends for so long, but no one has ever made me feel the way you do. i’ve never been happier… like i’m my true self around you, and i know i can be because you’d never judge me for that, yknow?”

YOU: “awe. guys, i’m gonna cry.”

YJ: “they’re actually crying, look. zoom in.”

YOU: “and that’s a wrap! thank you for watching this video! don’t forget to like and subscr—”

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

#txt imagines #txt drabbles #txt fluff #txt smut #yeonjun imagine #txt x reader #txt x y/n #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun fluff #beom-pyu

[cal-flakes]

╰┈➤ rafe gets jealous

warnings: a tiny bit of smut, swearing, dom!rafe, mean!rafe, shitty writing.

summary: rafe gets jealous when you talk to jj at a party. innocent!reader x rafe

the loud thumping music invaded her ears as she made her way around the large house. she had arrived with her boyfriend but thirty minutes in and he was nowhere to be seen. these parties weren’t her kind of thing, but of course she’d go just to make rafe happy. she’d do anything to make rafe happy.

her eyes skimmed the crowd, not being able to see much over the sea of people. it probably didn’t help that all these people seemed to be absolute giants. moving from the living room, she found a corner in the hallway to try and situate herself.

y/n wasn’t good with crowds, and she certainly wasn’t used to them. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who were utterly confused about the relationship between rafe and y/n. he was all about parties, drugs and alcohol while she preferred last night walks, staying in and watching films. it took some convincing from rafe to get y/n to go, but after seeing how happy it would make him, it was an easy decision.

watching so many people pass by her over and over made her dizzy. she didn’t know who’s house this was, she didn’t know who was here. before she knew it, panic set in and her eyes glazed over. y/n’s chest heaved as she tried her best to shrink into the corner.

a familiar voice broke her free of the hundreds of thoughts crossing her mind at such an insane speed. “hey y/n! didn’t think this was your scene?”

turning her head, her eyes met with an old friends, provoking a relieved grin to cross her face. “jj! thank god, have you seen rafe?” jj’s face contorted at the thought of y/n’s boyfriend. there was a very hostile history between the two, one y/n chose to ignore, not wanting to pick sides. “nah, you can come sit with us if you want?” jj offered sweetly, very aware of y/n’s anxiousness.

being childhood bestfriends with someone, you become used to their personality and mannerisms. just like jj had always done, he’d helped her out of another nerve-wracking situation.

nodding her head eagerly, she followed him through the house, all the way to the back garden. out there she recognised a few faces, john b, pope, kiara and sarah. as they noticed the girl following behind jj, they gave her warm smiles, especially sarah.

“rafe wander off again?” she half-joked, of course she knew what her brother was like, but didn’t appreciate his ability to forget to keep an eye on y/n. she nodded in response, a somewhat embarrassed laugh escaping her.

“why don’t you sit with us until he shows up?” jj suggested. “thank you guys, i don’t even know why i’m here to be honest.” y/n sat down on the deckchair next to her friend, pulling her short dress down as she did.

after some time, they had all fallen into conversation with one another.

“hey y/n do you remember when we-” jj started but was quickly cut off by the shadow of someone stood behind them. y/n and the pogues glanced up in sync, y/n’s eyes widening in delight as she scanned the familiar face.

“rafe! i couldn’t find you!” she beamed, happy to be in his company once again. “so you come sit out here with these pogues?” rafe grumbled, venom in his tone.

“hey! if you hadn’t left her all alone in there, jj never would’ve brought her out here!” sarah retorted, growing annoyed with her brothers attitude. rolling his eyes, rafe huffed and reached for y/n’s arm, wrapping a strong hand around her wrist.

“um, bye guys, it was nice to see you all!” y/n shouted over her shoulder as rafe dragged her away from the group.

rafe continued to pull her through the house until the pair reached his car. “get in.” he spat. bowing her head, she obliged, not wanting to anger him further. sitting down in the passenger side, she buckled her seatbelt quietly.

y/n eyed rafe as they drove in silence, his knuckles were white against the steering wheel as he seethed. deciding to speak up “please don’t be mad rafe, i was lost and jj was just trying to help” she mumbled, wary of his response. “jj this, jj that! do you have a thing for him or something?” rafe yelled, jaw clenching.

“what? no of course not! he’s just my friend rafe! i only want you!” she pleaded, trying to break his delusions. glancing at her slightly, rafe slammed the breaks on, pulling over on a dark road. “prove it.”

y/n’s face fell into a confused frowned, not quite understanding. rafe reached over to unbuckle her seatbelt before removing his own and leaving the car. y/n sat there in silence, baffled.

she jumped in her seat as rafe ripped her door open. reaching for her again, he pulled her out of the car before pinning her against it.

she felt his hot breath on his face as she met his volatile gaze, chest heaving. “i said prove it y/n” rafe snarled as he continued to tower above her. looking up at him, brows furrowed “i don’t understand rafe?”

“get on your fucking knees, and prove it” he spat, wrapping a hand around her throat before lowering her to the ground.

it was like a lightbulb went off in her head, finally understand what he wanted. she reached for his belt buckle, carefully undoing it. rafe’s hands gathered y/n’s hair into a ponytail while she pulled his jeans and boxers down, freeing his hard on.

before he could even blink, she wrapped her lips around the tip of his length, looking at him for approval as she did.

“that’s a good girl”

#dom!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe imagine #obx #outer banks

[jake-webber]

AFTERMATH | JAKE WEBBER

“I was drunk and you looked like a bad bitch.”

SUMMARY ⟢ You and your childhood best friend, Jake Webber, attend a party together and got caught in your drunken states on live. (unedited)

PAIRING ⟢ Jake Webber x Platonic!Reader

“Guys, guys—“ You watched as one of your mods turned your twitch chat into emote-only mode, chuckling to yourself as the rest of the viewers try to communicate with you and each other.

“Guys, we need to calm down. I will watch it but only when the other culprit is here.” Your tone had a light-hearted tone as you explained what the two of you had planned. “We’re both very hangover right now— I don’t even know how I’m not vomiting by seeing you guys.” You paused. “Not like that but ya’ll know what I’m sayin’.”

The chat grew faster by the second; some were sharing their own reactions from last night while the other cursed Jake. You shook your head in amusement of your current situation, sighing as you leaned against your chair. It was too early in the morning for a stream and you wouldn’t be close to awake if your friend didn’t practically exploded your notification.

Apparently, during the birthday party you and Jake went to, someone went live without the host knowing and caught interesting clips of the two of you—it would’ve been fine if you weren’t drunk out of your mind but you were and you had a habit of getting a bit touchy with the nearest person. You can’t decide at the moment if it was fortunate or not that Jake was your victim, who was also just as blacked out as you were.

The live started in the middle of the party where everyone already had more than 5 shots in their system along with you and Jake. The camera panned to you drunkenly chatting with your friends on the bar and playing drinking games, clueless to your impending doom. The live stayed there the whole time since the streamer decided you and Jake were the most entertaining people in the party.

“Okay, okay—Never have I ever but if it’s something you haven’t done you’ll drink.” The game was as simply done as your friend had suggested but even when out of his mind, Jake managed to control the whole game.

Jake handed you two shots for some reason but you were too drunk to decline. “Never have I ever shat myself at the Paris tower!” You laughed, leaning against him as you grabbed the shots with both your hands. “I’ve never even been out the country, you asshole.”

“Well, looks like you’re gonna have to drink.” Jake responded in a sing-song voice, sliding his palms on the back of your hands to push the glass towards your face. Not minding the physical contact, you gulped down the shot at the same time, spilling some on your and Jake’s pants. He grabbed the shot glass from your hands and placed them back on the bar.

You whistled, “Look at you being a gentleman.” You placed your index finger on his jaw, making him face you from his chest. The camera managed to catch the drunken smiles from the two of you as you made eye contact. “Next thing I know you’re wiping my face.”

And he did. Using the collar of your shirt, he roughly wiped the spillage on the corners of your lips and your chin. “God, you’re like a baby, dude.”

“I didn’t even ask you.”

“You didn’t?”

You shook your head as you laughed. “Where’s your ears, man?” You mumbled, though loud enough for him to hear as you suddenly turned around, facing him and grabbed his ears. The action caused for Jake to lean downwards due to the height difference.

“Should I just get rid of these?” You repeatedly pulled on his poor ears, “You don’t even use them anymore!” The rest of your friends laughed at the interaction, along with the mystery streamer getting closer with his camera. It had a light that blinded Jake which made you look back.

Your mind couldn’t process that they were live, seemingly thinking that they were just recording. But having a job where you practically face a camera all day, words began spilling from your mouth as a second instinct.

“Hey, guys!” You shouted in between the loud music, eyelids half closed now that the lights were in your face. You removed yourself from Jake to get closer but his arms were already around your waist, making him follow along.

“Stop moving around! I’m not a dog.” Jake complained, tightening his grip on you as he closed his eyes. “At least give me a treat or something.”

“What even is this guy yapping about?” You said to the camera, earning a kick to your ankle. You laughed as you spoke again. “Anyways! How are we doing? I can’t see a fucking thing and I’m having a good time.” Naturally, no one responded but that didn’t stop Jake from unknowingly embarrassing your sober self tomorrow.

You felt his weight shift behind you as he tapped on the camera, using his height to tower over you to reach it. “Hey, wanna see something cool?” You couldn’t hear the guy’s answer even if you wanted to as the music’s bass consumed your eardrums. You just watched as both of Jake’s hands made their to each side of your head, his fingers burying themselves deep into your disheveled hair.

His nose was practically touching yours. “Are we about to kiss right now?” You asked with a grin, purposefully bumping your forehead on his.

“We are! D’you want to?” Jake asked as he squished your face, laughing as your cheeks made your lips deform from its natural shape. With the music blasting in your ears, the alcohol you drank continuously coursing through your veins, and the camera’s light still blinding you—Every single thoughts had disappeared when you answered.

“Fuck it.” You said with a shrug, nudging yourself closer to meet his lips. Jake thought it would be a good idea to lean forward, bending your back as the two of you chuckled in the kiss. The people around you cheered as drunk people would do if they literally see anyone making out. But the two of you weren’t; if anything, it just felt like you face planted on Jake’s face.

He pulled away when you punched his shoulder, forgetting that you two needed to breathe to live. “Stop kissing me to death, dude!” You said through pants, wiping your lips of residue alcohol Jake had on his mouth that got transferred to you.

“Just say your lungs are weaker than a smoker. Just say that.” Jake said in a mocking tone.

The night ended with the host finding the guy streaming her party with bodyguards that were twice in size compared to everyone. You woke up in Jake’s house, specifically on his couch while the said boy was on the floor next to you, sleeping like a knocked out bear in the wild. You groaned in pain when your phone kept ringing to no end. With the mix of your hangover and tiredness, you finally picked up your phone and here you are in Johnnie’s room, using his computer to go live.

Jake entered the room with new clothes from the night before. His hair was still a bit damp as he sat down next to you, making some of the droplets fall to your lap. “C’mon, dude, I just borrowed these from Johnnie.”

The chat went even faster at his presence, making your eyes roll. “Uh, I think they’re too excited on embarrassing us.” Jake said in one of those fake nerdy tone of his.

“That happens when hot people kiss on camera.”

Jake immediately agreed with a firm nod. “I agree.” His eye scanned the chat, trying to get at least a glimpse of a coherent sentence.

jakesdietcke9 DO YOU GUYS REGRET THE KISS?

“Hell no!” Jake responded, crossing his arm. “We did it for the vine, guys—we did it for the live!”

#jake webber #jake webber imagine #jake webber x reader #jake webbber x you

[feyascorner]

8 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You try to swat him away, but his thumb swipes the droplets of blood to the side of your face, staring down at you with eyes that resemble rubies. You’ve always loved them, describing them as the gems you’ve stumbled across in such dire times, but now all you want to do is look away. They’re too harsh. They’re too cold. They’re too him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as he licks your blood off the pad of his thumb.

“It would’ve been better if one of us died that day.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. a little peek at what this guy is thinking before i move onto act 2 of this fic!! <3 also this specific flashback is not the usual pre breakup flashback it's right after the blushing mermaid incident !!

His nightmares have long stopped making him sick.

The same dreams where Cazador would have shackles around his neck and wrists, laughing maniacally while he carves runes into Astarion’s flesh, no longer bring him the same dread the morning after. Instead, he feels a kind of numbness that spreads past his physical being into the mindless stare he bores into the ceiling. Even before the birds awaken outside the city, it's quiet in the morning. This eerie sense of stillness used to be his favorite time of day.

Because when there’s nobody outside, there’s nobody to bring to Cazador.

Now, it feels too empty. Too alone. As if he’s the only person left in Faerun.

With nobody but his own mind, he begins to replay the events of the last few months. No matter how many times he does it, it doesn’t seem quite real. The nautiloid, the grove, the underdark—all of it. From the second he first bathed in the sun’s glory to the second he lost it all anyway, it doesn’t seem real.

It doesn’t seem real that he once had someone to care for him.

But he supposes he’s mistaken. He’s had plenty of affection throughout his centuries lurking on the city's streets, albeit rare for something genuine. Regardless, it did happen. Like Sebastian or other fleeting victims of Cazador who weren’t as crude as his usual prey. Genuine people whose biggest crime was falling for Astarion’s charms at the wrong time and place.

He doesn’t remember most of their faces anymore. He’s given up on trying to.

And like clockwork, his mind fades to the moment he first tasted humanoid blood as he begins to zone out from a particular part of the ceiling. A proper meal, rather than those disgusting rats on cellar floors he’s been allowed for most of his vampiric life. He remembers the liquid gold sliding down his throat and the sheer energy that came with it—some of which he hadn’t even known he had. He recalls the heavenly metallic taste of your lifeline. How, despite all the blood, all he could smell was your soap. How hot you’d felt against his own cold and unforgiving husk of a body.

Astarion swallows, forcing himself to focus on the chipped wood on one part of the ceiling.

While on any other occasion, he’d remind himself that he’d never have a taste of you again, you had given it to him. Even though he swore all the gods above were against his odds, you’d offered him your blood as he lay pathetically against the walls of the Blushing Mermaid.

But it had been different this time. Instead of that soft smile you’d give him when he’d drink from you in the past, all that remained was a stern frown. You hadn’t run your fingers through his curls and instead chose to grit your teeth, forcing your eyes away from where he bit into your wrist. Your generosity hadn’t been one stemming from affection but one of necessity.

You had flinched away from his touch.

He’s not surprised. In fact, he should’ve expected you to shove him away the second his mouth neared your skin, and he did expect it. But instead, all you’d done was brace yourself—as if you hated his touch—and forced yourself to stay still for his sake. It was akin to watching himself endure the skin of so many strangers in hopes of convincing them into Cazador’s dungeon all those years ago. He knows it’s not the same. He knows this, but hells, did he hate how dry his throat felt after, despite feeling satiated.

He would’ve preferred if you’d just left him there to bleed.

He hates that you hadn’t done so.

He hates that you hadn’t let him ascend.

He hates that he’s forced to live alongside you.

He hates you.

Before he can tell what he’s doing, he’s standing in front of your bed. How he got here is a blur, but he has a dagger in one hand and a fist in the other. You lie blissfully asleep, unaware of the blood-red eyes that stare down at you in a daze, illuminated by nothing but the moonlight peering through the windows. He takes a moment to take in the state of your room–and though he’s not shocked at the mess scattered around the ground and desks, he’s not pleased by it either.

“Gods, how do you even live like this?” he asks, as if you can hear him.

He glances at the glint of his blade and then at your sleeping face. The same face once peppered at least a hundred kisses against his cheek, laughing loudly when he’d feign annoyance at the marks left behind. You’d only snickered then, tackling him into an embrace and allowing him to return the sentiments. Those same lips of yours are now chewed raw, almost a bloody red.

“I could finish this endless fight right now,” he whispers, his grip tightening around the handle of your blade. “I could wake you with this knife at your throat, and you’d have no choice but to kill me. I’d return the violence, of course, but only one of us would live. There would be no use fighting any longer.”

Your chest only rises and falls steadily, and he notices he hasn’t seen you at such peace since he last slept beside you all those months ago. He doesn’t see the same expression anymore because when you look at him now, it’s always accompanied by furrowed brows or a downward quirk of your lips.

He wishes you would respond.

“Ha,” he scoffs pitifully, dropping his hand. He places the blade in its rightful place on your bedside table again and sighs. “This is much too pathetic of a death for either of us. If we were to kill one another, it should be done properly—not in this mess of a room.”

With one last pathetic scan at the details of your face, he turns to leave. But before he can even reach the door, he hears a soft gasp from your bed.

For a moment, he thinks he’s been caught.

When he whips around, all he sees is your clearly asleep form, yet this time, there is no peace in your expression. Instead, it’s scrunched up into a painful grimace as your fingers grasp at your sheets and your mouth falls open to take in breaths of air that don’t come to you. He thinks you might be choking on god knows what until one of your hands flies to your throat. Your nails claw at a collar he can’t see.

He glances at his own hands.

Oh.

Astarion slowly paces back to his spot beside your bed, watching as you writhe against nothing but the air. He realizes you’re not suffocating, but it sure looks that way. He doesn’t know what to do besides watch blankly with wide eyes, but fortunately for him, the moment doesn’t last long. In seconds, your hand falls from your throat, and you continue to grimace painfully. Still, you’re no longer choking.

The bruises have faded, but only physically.

The vampire feels his hand inching toward you but freezes, unable to bring himself within a foot of your restless body without doing something he’d regret. His mind flashes back to how you’d flinched away from his touch, and it’s enough to make him drop your hand again. And being unable to decipher what he’s supposed to feel, he just stares at the wetness of your lashes, his jaw tight.

His voice is rough as he speaks.

“You foolish bard.”

“You’re one of the Gur children.”

“So what if I am,” the small child, too frail for her age despite the fangs protruding from her gums, crosses her arms, huffing. It’s been mere minutes since you managed to sit her down on the forest grounds, bent down on one knee to reach her eye level, but she remains positively stubborn, glaring at the other vampire spawn who stands idly by your side while twirling a comb in his fingers. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It’s important. You were turned recently, then, weren’t you?” you frown, and a flicker of recognition passes her before it vanishes again. “Why are you alone? Where are the other kids?”

“That’s what you want to ask?” Astarion hisses from your side, his hands stopping. “Stop indulging such trivial questions and demand to know whether the little brat was the one to kill that poor husband. The clock is ticking, and I still have to hunt.”

You snap in his direction. “Will you stop it? She’s a child.”

“A spawn—she’s a spawn. Get it right, darling, she’s no child.”

“You’re acting like a nine-year-old yourself.”

“Ha! As cute as it is that you’re attempting to insult me, let’s leave the lines to me, hm? Your delivery couldn’t be less enthusiastic if you tried.”

“This isn’t a joke, Astarion.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

You glare at him, and he glares straight back. The smallest of snorts, stifled by a hand, comes from Berry, and you both turn to look at her in an instant. By the time you do, she’s already back to huffing, her brows furrowed.

With an exhausted sigh, your shoulders slump. “So, did you kill Roger Highberry? Was everything an act?”

She hesitates, and though you dare to believe that what you see is sorrow, she wipes it away with a blink of an eye, gaze glued to the ground before her. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t lie.”

“Do you think we’re idiots?” You nearly roll your eyes at his voice. “You’re telling me a spawn—one that’s been newly turned, might I add—wouldn’t go ballistic at the sight of fresh blood sleeping soundly just a room over each night?”

“I didn’t!” she spits, baring her teeth. “And I’m not talking to you! I don’t want to talk to you, you—you—asshat!”

It’s apparent that it’s her first time using the word, but you don’t bother mentioning it.

“You wretched little–!”

“Berry,” you sigh for the umpteenth time, ignoring the fuming elf behind you. “I want to believe you, but I need you to be honest. And when I say honest, I mean absolutely everything. Including why you followed me out here and tried to attack me earlier.”

She falters. And almost shamefully, she looks down at her hands again. “...I ran away from the other spawns. I didn’t want to be with them anymore, and I pretended to be an orphan to stay with Cora and Roger.”

“What?” you blink. “Why would you do that?”

“Ulma taught us vampires are evil for the blood they take from people,” she mumbles. “I didn’t want to be evil too. Even if it means leaving my friends.”

As she speaks, her face dawns with a wave of solemnness–one too familiar to yourself.

“If you’re not with the others, why did you send me to the Blushing Mermaid knowing that there’d be an ambush?” you finally ask, gentler than you should be with how Astarion impatiently taps his foot behind you, but you couldn’t care less. “It could’ve killed us.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” she blurts, searing eyes darting to your silver-haired companion. “I was trying to kill him. He tried to perform a ritual and kill the rest of us with the power he’d get…I might not be with my friends, but I don’t want them to die either. I don’t want to die.”

You feel your breath still. Astarion does the same, now unmoving from his spot. However, his shock stems more from offense. “Cazador would have rid of you anyway. You were doomed from the start.”

You glare at him, still maintaining a soft tone toward the girl. “He can’t harm you anymore, Berry. Nobody can.”

She points a finger at Astarion. “I can’t be sure until he’s gone!”

“Berry–” You reach toward her hand.

“I let you see Dalyria so you’d turn him in! Not to keep him!” she hisses, slapping you away with a snarl. “And the worst of all, you let him drink from you! You let someone who wants to kill the rest of us drink from you while the rest of us have to pay greatly just to survive! If you’re his friend, then I have to hate you too!”

Eyes going wide, you find yourself standing again, cheeks tinging red. “I—that was just–”

Astarion’s attention still seems elsewhere. “I don’t want to kill you, as appealing as it sounds at the moment. Even I don’t indulge in harming children, despite how annoying I find brats like you.”

“Stop lying!” she shrieks. “Petras said you’d kill us all! That the second you finish the ritual, you’d kill the rest of us to make sure you have no competitors. That there isn’t another person like you who’d go against the will of their very master—”

“Though it sounds positively delightful, I wouldn’t be the one doing all that bloodshed,” he snaps in return, fangs visible through the grit of his teeth. “It seems my dear brother has misinformed you. The ritual itself would’ve wiped you all—which would’ve been far better for the city, clearly—but I would only be making a choice. A sacrifice.”

While the two are too caught up in the wrath of their distaste for one another, realization quickly flashes across your eyes. Suddenly, you’re standing between the two, one hand inches from Astarion’s chest as a warning, while you keep Berry shielded behind your free arm. The act catches him off guard, and you think the downward curl of his lips should scare you. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Go hunt—or whatever it is that you do,” you demand, fingers inching closer to your weapon. It feels too dramatic, but you decide you can never be too safe. “I need to talk to her without you here to bicker and argue with a child.”

He scoffs. “Talk about what exactly? What more is there to know? You do realize that if I were to leave now, the brat would take another attempt at your life.”

“She’s a kid. I can take care of myself.”

“When you cowered behind me just minutes ago over a damn squirrel?”

Hells. You should drive a stake through his heart just for that.

Your eyes narrow. You might’ve entertained this quip on another occasion, but that moment is not now. “Go.”

His gaze flits from you back to the child, his expression indecipherable. You want to look away from his harsh stare, but your pride doesn’t dare allow you. And you’re thankful for it. “20 minutes then. 20 minutes only, and then I shall return.”

You nod.

With one last fleeting glance and a hesitant footstep, he turns on his heel, stalking to disappear into the darkness of the woods. It doesn’t take long because, after only a few dark strides and the rustling of leaves, he’s gone, leaving only you and the blazing vampire spawn behind you.

“Is that what Petras told you?” your brows furrow at Berry. “Is that what he told everyone else? That Astarion would’ve killed you once, he became an ascendant?”

She stares up at you, gaze blazing with rage. But there’s more to it. Loneliness, longing, and the most prominent: grief. Grief for the life that’s been taken away from her and reciprocated her payment in the form of fangs. She adjusts uncomfortably in her cloak, her tiny fists clenched at either of her sides.

Her silence is the answer you need.

This must be why the other spawn isn’t against the ascension. They can’t be against it because they don’t know how it works in the first place. Just as Astarion’s siblings believed the ascension would’ve rebirthed them alongside Cazador, the remaining 7000 spawns believe the same—almost ironic, in an endless cycle that repeats itself no matter what. They aren’t even aware of the ticking clock attached to their lifelines.

“Astarion wasn’t lying,” you say softly. “He wouldn’t have killed you after becoming an ascendant. He would’ve killed you becoming the ascendant. It’s the price of the ritual.”

She releases a frustrated grasp of her nails digging into her palm. “No, you’re just saying that because you’re his friend!”

“I’m not his friend,” you admit.

And despite expecting a pang of regret pulling at the strings of your heart as you say the words. No tightness in your chest, no dryness in your throat, and no shame for the lies pouring so effortlessly out of your lips. It makes you think that perhaps it’s not a lie. You dearly hope that’s the case.

“Then what are you?”

"I'm like you,” you say. "He tried to kill me too."

She frowns. “You let him drink from you. Nobody does that. Not for something like us.”

Your heart cracks a bit at her words, but you shake your head. “It was to keep him alive. To save him, as I intend to do for you.”

“You? You’ll save us?” she scoffs, clearly unconvinced, as she picks at the makeshift bandages wrapped around the wound on her arm. It’s a flimsy piece of cloth you tore from your cloak, but it’s better than risking it against whatever natural elements the forest offers. You gently pry her fingers away, preventing her from agitating the split skin.

“I did last time,” you remind her. “I’m the one that stopped Astarion from ascending—did Petras tell you that too?”

She falters. And while there’s an apparent hesitance in her eyes, there’s something behind all the rough exterior she’s built up from an undeniably traumatic experience of becoming a spawn. She looks up at you when you squeeze her tiny hand, almost hopeful. Because despite what irreparable damage the past few months have done to her, she remains a child. An innocent caught in a war of bloodshed. And what more can you gather from a child but hope?

“You want to stay with Cora, right?”

She nods sheepishly.

“Then you’ll stay with her,” you smile. “I’ll lend you my trust if you lend me yours, and you don’t run off anyway.”

“Promise?” You hold out a pinkie. She stares at it, but when she meets your eyes, she lifts her own hand to interlink with yours. For a moment, she almost looks like she's forgotten about the reality of her situation. That even if she were to live, she wouldn't be able to stay with Cora for long, given her inevitable nature.

How childish. Innocent. And you’d do anything to keep it from becoming more sinister.

“You let the girl go?” After ensuring Berry returns to her room, Astarion repeats the question for the third time as you turn away from the Highberry household in utter disbelief. The cold night air sends chills down your skin, and you wrap your torn cloak tightly around yourself, walking straight past him. Despite your apparent intentions of ignoring him, he trails after you urgently, following no matter how quickly your steps take you through the dead stillness of the city. “And what if she decides to kill the wife?”

“She won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” he hisses. “What makes you so sure she can go against her very nature to kill just so she can stay in a bedroom she shares with four other kids? All of which are very appetizing meals to her, by the way.”

You shoot him a glare. “I’m sure you would know.”

“I do. Which is all the more reason for me to step in so we don’t have to deal with yet another dead body on our hands.”

“I don’t need advice from someone who wouldn’t hesitate to use a comb as a weapon.” You rub the side of your head to soothe your headache.

“Seeing as you set a spawn free into the city, I’d argue differently.”

“Will you just shut up?”

“I didn’t accompany you to be a pretty toy piece at your side, darling. With the foolish choices you’re making, I have no other choice but to nag,” he rolls his eyes. The snarkiness in his voice is enough to snap what remains of your already worn patience.

“And you think you’re allowed to give me advice?” you spin around to face him, stopping dead in your tracks. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re basically a hostage! You don’t get to make decisions on what we do!”

“Well, who else will you get advice from now that all your little friends seem to have lost all respect for you?” 

Your jaw unhinges. He stands firm, arms crossed, and it’s enough to make your blood boil. “Gods, you’re—you’re such an asshole.”

Astarion laughs bitterly. “Care to tell me anything new?”

“About your personality? We’d be here all night. You’re also forgetting that I fought with the others for your sake, you bastard,” You step closer, teeth gnashing together. “I saved your life.”

“I would’ve survived with or without your help, darling.”

“You only got this far because our friends helped you!”

“Would you like me to be grateful?” he guffaws, and your chest tightens at how condescending it sounds. “Because must I remind you that you also stole the only chance of me escaping this filthy life where I rot away on the streets and feed on lowly criminals? You’ve forced me to be what I am, and now you think I’m indebted to you?”

Why does he keep saying that? You fight the urge to just punch him.

“I’m not saying you owe me anything, you fool!” your eyes meet his in a blaze of fire. Your heart beats rapidly, and you sincerely hope it’s gone unnoticed. “How many times do I have to tell you that I never forced you to do anything—I was stopping you from becoming like Cazador!”

He’s suddenly looming over you, his gaze sharper than before in a frenzied manner. Just mentioning his old master’s name is enough to push him on the offensive. “I never would’ve become like him…not after what that bastard did to me. I would’ve become stronger and been able to help you. Us. So why in the bloody hells you ever stopped me–”

The words pour out like a mountain of sand held by a twig, and you reach to grab the collar of his shirt. “I didn’t need help! Neither of us did, Astarion. It would’ve been hard, but we would’ve made it out like we always do if we just tried!”

You’re unsure you’ll make it out this time, but does it matter anymore?

His frown creases as if none of your pleas are getting through his thick skull. And while you have half a heart to keep blurting out whatever comes to your mind, his sudden silence and the smallest of steps he takes away from you make you seal your mouth shut. Like he’s closing the door again. Like he’s leaving you all alone again.

Your voice drops, and you bring your hand back to your side.

“You’re not being fair, Astarion.”

“Darling, I’ve followed all your stupid rules and remained on my best behavior till now, even when I could’ve caused more than a few casualties. Hells, I even watched that girl go back to the orphanage alive,” he says, quieter. “I’ve been more than fair.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What is it, then?”

“It feels like you know everything I’m constantly thinking of, whether it be you or something else,” you mumble. “But you won’t let me know what you’re thinking. I’m not asking you to tell me your deepest secret…I just need to know what I’ve done to deserve the bullshit I have to put up with. I took away the ascension from you; I get that, but is that really it? Is that really why you hate me this much? What’s worse, is that very time it feels like we can finally talk, you just—you tell me that you hate me again and then leave it there to fester even more anger on both sides.”

Astarion stares at you, his expression impossible to read. Horrified but unrelenting of the mountain of unsaid words, you continue. “Just talk to me.”

Why, you want to ask. He knows you only did what you thought was best at the time, so what have you done to deserve such cruelty?

Why do you hate me so much?

He gives you a long, hard look. It was surely only a few split seconds, but it seems like hours as you don’t even dare to breathe, rooted in place as you await his answer. It’s infuriating that you can’t tell what he’s thinking even now. He’s always been far too good at masking his feelings, and while he’d used it against you once, you never thought he’d have to again. And finally, when he moves, he doesn’t move to speak.

He shuts his eyes, and when they open again, he’s grinning. That fake, beautiful grin that brings you so much anguish and conflict simultaneously that it makes the sides of your head pound with the beating of your heart. “Fine, darling. Let’s talk if you want to so badly.”

It's so artificial that it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You wish he’d just tell you he hates you again.

He’s blocking you out again. Again and again, no matter how many times you take a step forward, he takes a few back, and the distance between the two of you grows larger. It’s just so exhausting and repetitive. You’re sick of it. 

“Why do I hate you? Where should I start?” he hums. “Ah, perhaps when you took it upon yourself to be the one to stab a knife through Cazador’s heart. I’m rather curious myself, darling, how did it feel? Could you feel his screams through your dagger, or were you too occupied watching the life drain from his face? Was it hard to reach his heart? Did he struggle? Oh, do tell, I’d love to know how that bastard suffered.”

The words feel like a knife to your own chest.

“To think that could have been me if I hadn’t seduced you when we met…You could’ve pierced a stake through my heart when you first caught me longing for your blood. Can you believe it? If you’d just killed me then, you wouldn’t be standing here now. You wouldn’t have let me bed you in that dirty forest clearing, and you would have never felt my lips upon yours. I could have chosen anyone else---anyone in the camp---and we wouldn't be standing here, but Gods was it easy to seduce you."

He stops, and his next words make the blood drain from your face.

"Just like the thousand other victims I brought to Cazador. You're no different from them...all you want from me are my weaknesses. You kept me this way to keep me fragile, and pathetic."

Has listening to someone's voice always been so difficult?

“I didn't—”

“But I suppose you’re the victor in another sense, my dear,” he sneers, his face impossibly close to yours, but he’s never felt so far away. “You should count yourself lucky. Few can say they’ve managed to bed me and survive to tell the tale. You even managed to make me fall for you! You, a simple naive bard, managed to seduce me! And Gods, did you put up a glorious show, darling, betraying me like you did. It was an ingenious move on your part, preventing me from reaching my full potential—the hero of Baldur’s Gate wouldn’t want anything tainting their beloved city with blood, after all–”

No, this is all wrong. This does nothing but make things worse. You wish he'd just stop.

In the blink of an eye, Astarion stops speaking. With expecting eyes, his attention flickers to the knife now pointed at his pale throat. You practically gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you inch the knife just a few centimeters from breaking skin. “Shut up.”

Astarion’s glare narrows on your hand. “Enough talking for you?”

You see that whatever man you fell in love with in what feels like another lifetime was a mask. Deep down, you’ve known that the face he wears is nothing but a facade ever since this entire fiasco started and he’d situated himself into your home. Yet, the cruelty still hurts. It hurts how much he detests you with the very same face that once worshipped your very breath. Gods, you’d been so foolish, thinking a damn vampire spawn could feel anything other than hunger….much less love.

He’d likely prefer to eat out your heart than hold it in his cold, dead hands. He’d watch you with those sultry eyes as he sinks his teeth into what remains of your heart and feels nothing but his own thirst being satiated.

So you won’t give him the opportunity. You won’t give him your heart again, even as the sky falls and the ground dissipates.

You’ve done it once, and you’ve never regretted anything more.

“You’re turn, my dear,” he says. “If you wish to say something, feel free to do so.”

He steps closer, and the tip of your blade draws a small bead of blood. He doesn’t seem to care.

Red, red, red. Your vision is growing blurry.

You inhale sharply. Breathe. You can still breathe. Words that had been bottled up inside dissipate the longer you watch him, as you understand that no matter what you say or do, he will remain as he is. While you want to tell yourself it’s because time itself has ceased for him, you know he doesn’t want to change in the first place.

“I should kill once this is over,” you mutter calmly. His blood now falls down the side of your knife. “But I’m not like you. I’m not as pathetic or petty as you are, even though I’ve been through less than you probably have. I don’t attempt murder just because things don’t go my way.”

His smile twitches.

“If you like being alone so much, then I won’t stop you. Once this is all over, I never want to see you again. I don’t care what you do, but I just want you to disappear. I want you gone, forever, in whatever shadows you hide in during the day.”

It only seems like yesterday when you begged the moon to see him one last time.

Even though he’s speaking through his teeth, he nods as you bring your knife back to your side. “I’m glad we have something to agree on.”

You want to laugh, but you fear it’ll come out as cracked.

“And you’re right,” you wipe his blood off the dagger on your sleeve, not bothering to spare him a glance. “I should have let the others behead you when we met.”

If he wants to sabotage the little good left in his life, let him. If he wants to be miserable for the rest of his undying days over what’s already been done, let him. You don’t care anymore.

Amusement drips from his voice. “A shame.”

His finger tilts your chin upward, his thumb rubbing at the side of your cheek. It’s then that you realize there’s a whiff of blood coming from a wound on your skin—a result of the forest, you’d guess. You try to swat him away, but his thumb swipes the droplets of blood to the side of your face, staring down at you with eyes that resemble rubies. You’ve always loved them, describing them as the gems you’ve stumbled across in such dire times, but now all you want to do is look away. They’re too harsh. They’re too cold. They’re too him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as he licks your blood off the pad of his thumb.

“It would’ve been better if one of us died that day.”

He takes his time to respond. 

“I know.”

Tags:@ayselluna@littleenglishfangirl@bg3obsessedsideblog@iwillpissyourpants@cyberpr1m3@ukeia-uchiha@snowlotr@road-riot@spacekidnova@madislayyy@lordfishflakes@nicalysm@djarinsway@tinystarfishgalaxy@brainz00@hopeful-n-sad@ohdeerieme@madisban@chrismarium@chonkercatto@fanfic-share@bitterrenegade@sleepyred1703@miskouly@ravenswritingroom@iamlowkeycrying@deezus-roy@spiritraves@mariposakitten@dinobae-replyacc@whisperingwillowxox@bdudette@misscrissfemmefatale@atropapurpurea@cosywinterevenings@phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @deezus-roy @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm@divineknightmare@bangtanbecks@carolinelec@bitterbeanren @aelieknox @bluelovesleep @catching-fire-in-the-wind @moonlight-stay @thatbeanieboss Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added! I needed to redo the entire taglist because it wasn't functioning, so please let me know if I missed you :)

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff #astarion x oc #baldurs gate 3 x reader

[eveningepiphany]

lessons | H.S

my masterlist <3

summary: sitting on harrys couch, he gets it out of you that you have never intimately touched someone else, and he offers straight up for you to learn off him.

warnings: SMUT, m receiving handjob and blowjob, heaps of dirty talk and praise, gentle dom! harry, virgin! y/n

a/n: I have to be up early in the morning so I haven’t done a final proofread since it’s nearly midnight, so sorry for any mistakes. this trope with h makes me weak at the knees 😵‍💫

———

“No way…” His tone is hard to dissect, it’s filled with emotions.

You purse your lips, looking to the grey of his couch beneath you— immediately regretting admitting the truth to him.

He’s your best friend, but god you do not venture into territory like this. Hence his shock, and disbelief at the admission that had come out of your mouth.

You were close next to his side while chatting that evening, a romantic comedy playing unnoticed in the background.

He joked briefly about himself, something about his… size. You hardly recall what he’d exactly said about it, other than him remarking about how ‘large’ he is.

Your eyes widened at the words, and he smiled a bit at the reaction.

It’s rare he gets to see you flustered, and if an opportunity has presented itself he can’t help but use it.

“What? Does that rile you up a bit?” He’d smirked, green eyes trying to find yours.

“No!” You’d hissed, glancing at the TV.

“Why’d you go all shy then?”

“Because you’re talking about your dick, and I don’t wanna know!”

He laughed at your rushed response, “anyone would’ve thought you’d never seen one in your life.”

Your response is delayed, in all truth you had— briefly, an unwanted showing at a college party, one of your ‘friends’ drunkenly trying to get in your pants. He’d pretty much flashed you before you got the fuck out of there. So how much it counts, is more the part you were hardly sure about.

“Of course I have.” You’d said, trying with your all to sound convincing— like as if you’d done more than just see one.

But the energy had shifted the second you’d paused, and the words pouring out your mouth were not helping your case.

“Wait— have you not actually seen a dick bef—“ his brows were furrowed, lips quirked, still unsure how serious you were until you cut him off.

“God, no— yes— shut up!“ you’d cupped your hands over your eyes, wishing to go back and just laugh at his stupid joke instead of getting all flustered and ending up here.

“You haven’t?” He pushed a more little.

A sigh had pushed out your nose in defeat, “hardly.”

So now it leaves you here, staring anywhere but at him as he mutters a ‘no way’ to you.

You felt more than embarrassed, you were mortified at this point. You and Harry had been friends since your first year of primary school, so to have him find out something you have kept to yourself for so long and was so personal was terrifying.

Having never really covered this topic with you, he was undeniably curious, “so you’ve never touched one…?”

“You’re making this so much worse.” You scrunch your eyes closed.

“Ok… so that’s a no.” He laughs a little, and all you could do was nod. He nudges you with his shoulder. “Hey, yknow it’s ok right? M’not judging you or anythin’”

You take a careful glance to see his expression, it’s sincere and you take in a careful breath.

“I know. It’s embarrassing though.” You advert your gaze back to a thread on the soft fabric of your sweatpants.

“S’not embarrassing love, I was just surprised. You’re a gorgeous girl— y’know I think that— so I just assumed some guy was lucky enough to have been with you— intimately that is.” He says casually, then adding, “and y’ve had a few guys, so I just thought…”

Your stomach fluttered at his compliments, even though he never shied away from giving them to you.

“Those relationships never lasted long enough for us to, uh, get to that point.” You clarified, clearing your throat.

“I don’t wan’ you to feel uncomfortable, or like I forced you into talkin’ ‘bout it by the way.” He quickly clarifies, “jus’ was curious, is all.”

You find the courage to lock eyes with him again, “i wish I wasn’t so… inexperienced— I really do. But it’s beyond the point of awkward when people find out, you know?”

You were on a rant now, he’d officially opened the door to all your thoughts, “and now it’s like, I have no real way to learn. Unless I go out and hookup with a random, but I’m not desperate enough for that yet— nor comfortable with the idea.”

“And being a uh, a virgin this late in college is— not really common. So automatically people kind of get weird about it.”

He wished he could say the hardening of his cock was just from the fact they were talking about sex— and that he had been sticking to his hand for a while now— but he knew that the real reason was much more related to you, which he felt almost guilty about. You sitting here opening up and all his prick can think about is how gentle and unsure your hands would be around him.

Keyword being almost.

“Y’know you can always touch me… right?” The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them, a vague innuendo laying between each syllable.

“I- pardon?” You stuttered, uncertain if he meant what he just said in the way your brain had processed it.

“Like, if you ever want to learn or do anything. I’m here.”

Your eyes fell to his groin without a thought behind it, and you could see he was perked up in his sweats. He watched immediately as your gaze travelled down there.

“Just an offer. Don’t have t’take up on it now— or ever if y’don’t wan—“

In the few seconds of him talking you’d got a rush of confidence to do this. He’s practically handing himself to you on a silver plater.

“Can I?” The words were a fast question, a lingering hope behind them.

He almost groaned at them, the fact you were comfortable enough to be seemingly following through with his offer.

“‘Course you can, darling.”

You shuffled a little next to him, reaching to brush your hand over the fabric covering his groin, watching as he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.

You did it carefully, and your lips parted with a little gasp as his cock slipped out— he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

The tip of him was flushed to the same colour of his lips, and he wasn’t kidding about his size. At the base he had neatly trimmed hairs with a tiny curl to them.

You glanced back up at him, unsure what to do now. You almost had whiplash, because a minute ago you have never thought you’d see— let alone be able to touch his cock— and now you seem to have freedom to do whatever you please with it.

“S’alright darling, touch me however you want.” He reassured you, pressing his shoulder into you again. Solidifying the fact you really could do whatever you wanted with him.

Your hand hesitated a bit as you reached out to run a gentle finger on the underside of him.

Your hands were so fucking soft, softer than he even imagined, so he knew already this was going to kill him.

Going off the only kind of sexual experience you had— which is obviously with yourself— you didn’t want to be too gentle, so you wrapped your hand around the base of him and gave an experimental pump of his cock.

He groaned at the contact, not expecting it in the slightest. You were surprised at the sound that you’d just elicited from him, and the way he jutted his hips up to your touch.

“Fuck, sorry.” He carefully apologised, not wanting to scare you off. You were anything but scared though, more so fascinated, and frankly a bit turned on.

You said nothing as you continued to touch him, trailing your fingers up to the head of him. A small drop of precum seeping out.

He looks at you intently as you stare, “taste it, if y’want, love.”

With his prompt, you swipe your thumb gingerly across his tip, gathering up the few beads and lifting it to your lips.

It was a small portion, but he watched to see your micro-expressions at the taste. It was nice—really nice, in all honesty— compared to what you expected.

It was easy to see on your face you wanted more.

“Can I, uhm…” you paused, trying to figure out a way to word it, “taste you…?”

He pinched his eyes closed, running a hand through his now unruly hair. It was hard to control himself, he just wanted to pin you down and please you himself— thank you for making him feel so good already. Wrap his mouth around your probably puffy clit and make you come before he showed you what it feels like to be fucked.

Obviously he couldn’t do that. And not that he wanted to act like you were a delicate flower, but he was trying to keep you feeling comfortable— and that everything could progress at your pace.

“Jesus, love. ‘Course y’can.” He groaned, struggling to peel open his eyes.

“Can you tell me how you… how you like it? Show me even?” You ask, gently.

He shifts his hips, “Anything you give me I will like. But I can kind of direct you, tell you what feels good, I guess? If I can form a coherent thought with y’mouth ‘round me.”

You nod slowly, feeling the wetness gather between your thighs at his praise.

Deciding it would be easier, you slip off the couch onto your knees, placing yourself between his legs. You felt intimidated a little, the sight of his pulsing cock this close infront of you.

Yet still, you were salivating over it. Grateful you had a secure enough relationship to be able to do this. Especially with someone you felt so much for.

You glanced up at him, watching as he tracked your every move. He could’ve moaned aloud at your soft eyes looking up at him like that.

Your hand runs up his leg, resting to bracket the side of his thigh as you lean forward, gently kissing his tip.

A puff of air sounded from his lungs, egging you on just enough to keep going. You swept your tongue over the same spot you kissed, but trailing it down along his shaft.

You felt a little clueless as to what you were doing, in all honesty. So you glanced up, looking for a prompt on what to do next.

You wished it would just come to you naturally. Obviously in all the porn, they took the cock all the way down their throat, bobbing their heads and sucking like it was on their life. But you had no idea what your limits were, and how realistic half that shit is anyway.

“Sorry…” you muttered looking away, feeling your face flush with a tinge of embarrassment.

“God, Y/N. Don’t apologise, doing well for me baby. Just take me into your mouth, if you can.”

“Ok, I just want to make you feel good. So please tell me if I do something that has the opposite effect.” You sigh.

“I will, even though I highly doubt I’ll need too. Y’have such a nice mouth. Never knew it’d feel so good wrapped ‘round my cock.” He says this while cupping your cheek, and a part of you wants to just bend over and let him take you right there on the floor.

You never knew it could be like this. So open and filled with reassurance.

You lowered your lovely warm mouth back over him, sliding his tip past your lips, flattening your tongue on the underside of his smooth head.

“Fuck, so warm.” He whispers before continuing, “try and suck on me, hollow out those pretty little cheeks.”

You slide further down before you do, filling up your mouth with him, “don’t take more than you can handle sweet girl, use your hand for the rest.”

You nod around him when he says that, merely to show your taking his advice, but he groans loudly as you do.

So you do as he asks, wrapping your hand around what’s left of him and begin to suck.

He’s immediately lost in the sensation, digging warm fingers into the grey of the couch beneath him.

He can’t lie, you’re an attentive learner. You listen to the sounds he makes as you try something, like pulling your mouth all the way to the tip before gliding back down— or how you take note the way his body reacts with a shudder when you squeeze the base of his cock with your warm hand.

His directions are quickly falling away, into the back of his brain as you let your mouth explore his cock. It seems you’re fairing ok, now you’ve had proper encouragement.

You had been so in your head about making a mistake, now that you finally weren’t as worried about that, you could just focus on his body. Be intune with his reactions.

“Baby, you are so good at this.” He moans, driving his ass into the couch to keep from bucking up into your throat.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the image of him fucking your throat comes to fruition, and he has to shove it away. Leave it as something to jerk off to later, when he starts to miss your hot mouth, which probably won’t take all that long.

“Told me y’never touched anyone like this before. Think that’s a lie, how good your little tongue is working me. Y’gonna have me coming soon.”

His words bring a flutter to your core, the way his accent is all husky from pleasure. Pleasure you’re giving him.

“Such a good girl f’me, hmm?” He asks, and you hum a yes. The vibration of it flys through his cock, constricting around his spine as he moans out.

He stares down at you, eyes glazed with pleasure. Spit is glistening around your chin, and no doubt when you pull off his cock will be coated in a thick layer of it.

“Christ, faster for me baby. Moan all around my dick.” His thoughts start to spill from his lips, and your brain lags trying to process how filthy they all are.

Not that you’re surprised he’s like this whatsoever, but to be hearing it with your own ears, and it to be directed toward you makes it a whole other ballgame.

“This mouth is mine.” He curses, and you dig your fingers into his thigh as you feel your cunt throb.

“All fuckin’ mine. Trained up just for me.” He groans, and you slip off him just enough to get a few words in.

“Yours, Harry. Please… pull my hair.” You plead, wrapping your mouth over him after a short second, quickly jumping back into the fast rhythm you’d built up.

“Fuck, not sure gonna be able to be gentle f’you if I do that, darling.” He hisses, clenching his fist, imagining your hair between it.

You whine around his cock, looking up at him, desperate for it.

At this point, you don’t care. He can be rougher. You pretty much have instilled every ounce of trust you have in him— which you had done prior to this, but especially now.

Your hand scrapes up his shirt, nails clawing at his taut abs, pleading for this.

He thinks he could almost just die, seeing your needy side quickly being unleashed per his undoing.

His resolve caves, his hand coming to nestle into the hair close to your scalp. You moan at the feeling of it merely being there, his cock pulsing on your tongue.

“More dirty than I ever could’ve thought, Y/N. Wanting me to pull your hair like this, begging. M’trying to be gentle with you— making it so hard for me.”

You suck harder, and he sticks to his word of being careful, his hand tight around your hair— but never forcing you down.

Even though you don’t think you would have minded if he did, he was clearly getting close.

“Love, shit!” His legs were shaking, and his face was flushed a gorgeous pink.

“You’re gon’ make me come.” He grunted, “Hard.”

He told you this so you could pull off, maybe finish him with your hand or something. But you didn’t budge, you just kept sucking and sliding your perfect tongue all over him.

He couldn’t imagine finishing this fast with anyone else but you. Your messy, virgin mouth making him nothing short of a train wreck.

“Y/N, baby, I’m— holy fucking shit—“ you squeezed his balls in you hand, and he was hurtling toward his high.

“If you don’t pull off I’m, god, god I’m gonna come down your throat.” He rushes out, whole body ready to snap.

You don’t budge, you take as much of his dick as you can, wanting to feel his warm come shoot into your mouth.

The second he realised you wanted him to finish in your mouth was the same second he felt an indescribable pleasure hit him.

His jaw dropped, and stomach muscles clenched so hard he would’ve keeled over if he was standing up.

You pulled back. Hand coming to stroke where your mouth had left. But you kept his tip in, which was still spurting his come, placed on you tongue.

It coated it, dripping down onto your bottom lip and chin. And just the sight of it would be enough to get him off for the next 5 years.

His Y/N, his best friend, who he not even 10 minutes ago found out was a virgin, had just taken his load half down her throat and half smeared all over her tongue.

“Fuck me, baby. That is so unbelievably hot.” He almost whined, completely out of breath.

“Rub it in with my cock. Then swallow it, love.” He said, watching as you immediately did so, coating your tongue with him.

“Such a good girl. Swallow.”

You did that too. Placing a little kiss on his thigh after, and standing up.

Your knees felt a little weak, and you sat down next to him again.

He reaches over, kissing you without shame of where your mouth just was.

His hand slipped to your waistband of your probably soaked-through sleep shorts, and you halted it, “You don’t have to, Harry.”

“I know love, I want too though. But if you don’t, then that’s ok.” He caresses your hip.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking. You do. But at the same time, maybe not just yet.

Despite what just unfolded on his living room couch, you still feel almost shy. Not ready.

“Maybe not yet… that was— it was a lot. And very unplanned.” You purse your lips, worried he’ll be offended or something.

“Of course, darling.” He scoots his hand away, laying it on your cheek instead.

“We’ll take it at whatever pace you want.” He smiles, kissing a quick peck onto your lips.

“How about, i turn that off,” he gestures to the TV, “‘n we go cuddle?”

“That sounds great, H. Thank you. For everything.”

He chuckles, plucking his sweatpants from the floor and slipping them over his legs, “I should be thanking you. Thank you for trusting me. And for giving me probably the best orgasm I’ve had in ages.”

You flush, harder than you’d like to admit. Maybe this won’t be a bad impulsive arrangement after all.

———

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harrystyles smut #harry styles oneshot #best friend!harry #best friends to lovers #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #fanfic #dom harry styles #virgin!reader #gentle love #soft harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harrystyles x reader

[smileyerim]

right where i left you

jaehyun knew he’d be fine if he never saw you again — until he saw you again. overwhelmed with the realization that you’ve moved on, jaehyun must come to terms with his feelings for you… again.

part 1: in hell there’s heaven

pairing: ex!jeong jaehyun x ex!reader

genre: angst (shocker i know) !!MDNI!!

length: 3k

warnings: adults smoking weed, adults drinking alcohol, mentions of cheating, mentions of vomiting, it’s alluded that a character has a panic attack but not explicitly stated

net tags: @kflixnet

playlist here!

Jaehyun isn’t quite sure why he’s here. The bass feels like it’s thumping deep in his bones in an uncomfortable way, and only other guy in the smoke circle just asked him to Venmo him for the weed. Jaehyun just shrugged and pulled out his iPhone, but in retrospect he feels like he was done dirty. All he can do about it now is shrug and let out a huffed breath.

“You okay?” A very pretty girl sitting a bit too close to Jaehyun asks with a coy smile. Under any other circumstance, or on any other day, Jaehyun would have indulged her. Taken her home, maybe. Certainly wouldn’t have passed up on the opportunity to see what she could do for him.

Except today isn’t just any other day, it’s November 16th. What would’ve been your 2 year anniversary as a couple.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun let’s out with a blunt tone, tearing his hazy eyes away from her equally as hazy ones to stare into the crowd at the party.

His decision to ignore the beautiful blonde to his left brings back the same question that’s been circling in his brain ever since he faked a smile all the way to the stoner corner— why is he here?

He thinks about you in that moment; as he does a lot these days, and especially on days like today. He thinks about how you would’ve hated to be here, that you wouldn’t be caught dead in a scene like this on a Wednesday of all days.

Well, maybe Jaehyun is wrong about that because there you are.

Woah, he thinks, eyes nearly bulging out of his skull in shock.

His heart picks up in pace when he focuses his eyes on your figure. You’re really here, holy shit.

There you are.

There you are standing in the archway to the living room scanning the crowd. There you are looking as beautiful as ever, obviously looking for someone.

He frowns, trying to follow your line of sight to whoever it is you’re searching for. He scans the faces in the crowd, hoping to see the familiar faces of your girlfriends.

For a moment he ponders if you’re looking for a man, but he shakes that thought off pretty quickly. There’s no way you’ve moved on, he thinks. Jaehyun still can’t listen to certain songs because they’re attached to memories too painful to relive. You must be as hung up on him as he is on you.

Right?

Jaehyun panics, sitting up straight from where he was sinking deeper and deeper into the old sofa that was once a bright orange, but now a muddy brown in the corner of the room. He leans his elbows on his knees and rests his chin in his palm as he zeroes in on you walking across the floor, and into the sea of people.

Quickly, Jaehyun stands and follows after you into the crowd with just enough time to see a man clad in a leather jacket place a welcomed kiss on your lips. Your own arms are looped around his neck, and Jaehyun can see the shimmer in the man’s eyes as he stares down at you once he pulls away. Which, by the way, seems to be unfavorable for you. Jaehyun thinks as he watches you pull the man closer to chase his lips.

Holy fuck is all his flabbergasted brain can come up with as he stumbles back, hand coming up to his chest.

Thank God nobody in this swarm of bodies is sober enough to notice his odd behavior. He takes full advantage of that as he turns on the heels of his Nike’s to run away from the scene before him. An overwhelming feeling of nausea cloaks him from head to toe at the shock.

Before he even knows it, he’s outside with his hands on his knees as he dry heaves into a half-dead rose bush. When he coughs, they feel an awful lot like painful sobs. When he shuts his eyes to try and equalize his spinning world, all he sees is your lips against those of another man.

He shakes his head, spitting into the dead branches of the bush as he stands up straight with a pained groan.

He sighs, eyes shutting tightly as he lets the scene play over and over in his head. It’s too much, but also not enough to make him cry, so he just sits and swallows back the painful choking feeling in his throat.

All Jaehyun feels is overwhelmed. Uncomfortable, unsure, and overwhelmed. He’s never been all that great with identifying or expressing his emotions, he didn’t even know he loved you as much as he did until you were gone, and today is just like the others.

He wishes he could articulate the thoughts running through his head. He wants nothing more than to call his friends for support, but he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to tell them what he just encountered. He doesn’t know how to tell them how it made him feel. He doesn’t know how to even build the courage to take his phone out of his back pocket and just do it.

He’s still standing with his eyes screwed shut next to the bush when you find him. Your heart churns when you see how pained he looks, but you quickly shake yourself out of it enough to call his name.

His head whips up at the sound of your voice, and you’d be an idiot not to recognize the look in his eyes as he stands before you.

He then quietly calls out your name back to you, and you aren’t sure if he’s in shock, or trying to confirm that you’re actually here in front of him.

“Hey.” You say and offer him a small smile. You can feel your palms beginning to get clammy and your heart thud in your chest. You hate confrontation. Breaking up with Jaehyun was the hardest and bravest thing you had ever done.

He doesn’t respond, just trailing his eyes up and down your body. Not in a sensual way, but in the way that you can tell he’s attempting to read you but failing. His eyes do stop for a moment more on your lips, and it’s not hard to know why. For the last fifteen minutes all Jaehyun could think about is your lips. Your lips pressed against a man that isn’t him, to be specific.

Ignoring the creeping memories of the last time you stood in front of Jaehyun as he ignored you, you continue on the one sided conversation, “Why are you over here?”

That seems to do the trick with knocking him out of his thoughts. He stands up straighter, looking down at the bush and sniffing back his congestion awkwardly.

“Threw up.” Is all he says. It’s the same nonchalant tone he spoke in during your last fight.

“What? Seriously?” You yelp out, stepping in closer to look at the bush with morbid curiosity.

“Nah,” he says, having watched you step in closer with caution, “almost though.”

He isn’t sure why you’re talking about this, or why he’s even letting you lead the conversation in this direction, but soon the follow up question comes.

“But, why?” You say, frown in between your brows. He looks at you with a disbelieving look on his face before he realizes you weren’t kidding. He wants to laugh at how classic it is, at the fact that you don’t even recognize how much he’s in love with you still.

He shrugs, digging his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. He pauses for a moment in the silence, distracted by a water spider skimming the surface of a muddy puddle that is just inches away from your foot. He wants to laugh, you would freak out if you knew a spider was this close to you, but he doesn’t point it out to you. If he did, he would just be cruel. He’s not yours to joke around with like that anymore.

With another scrunch of his nose and a sniff, he looks up into your eyes. His heart skips a beat, and that delays his speech, but he gets out his proposal nonetheless with a dry voice.

“Can we talk?”

You smile a sad smile at him and nod, turning on your feet to walk towards an old sun bleached cooler that’s been sitting in the front yard of this house since Jaehyun’s been coming around. Jaehyun wants to urge you not to sit, he doesn’t trust the structural integrity of the cooler, but he doesn’t. Wouldn’t your new boyfriend be weirded out by your ex looking out for you?

It’s a real question that passes through his mind, one that he doesn’t have an answer for.

“So,” is what you say to urge him to speak and it takes Jaehyun by surprise.

His stupidity really blows him away sometimes, he thinks, as he realizes that his total lack of foresight led him to starting a conversation he doesn’t know how to have.

“I don’t know what to say.” He says in honesty, noticing how you have a slight pout on your lips as you stare up at him from your sitting position on the cooler.

He wants to kiss you, of course he does. You’re the most beautiful girl on all of planet Earth and you’re sitting only two feet away from him with your lower lip slightly jutted in a confused pout. Jaehyun is a man after all.

You giggle and look at him with much more grace than he deserves and say, “Tell me how you’re feeling right now.”

“I don’t know, I’m feeling a lot.” He says honestly, and you validate him with a nod before asking your next question.

“Is the party making you anxious? Is that why you were over by the bush?” You ask, choosing to play the long game to get the answers you want out of Jaehyun. It was common practice in your relationship, and you surprise yourself by how quickly you’re able to slip back into that role.

Do you want to be here? You aren’t sure. Usually you’d be too afraid of him abandoning you to even ask yourself such questions.

Jaehyun wants to roll his eyes at how oblivious you’re being to the cause behind his behavior. He’s fed up with you not noticing him.

“Do you know what day it is?” He says, empty eyes piercing into yours. You gulp, your sweaty hands sticking together uncomfortably as you rub them together.

You were hoping he wouldn’t bring it up. You figured he’d be acting too laissez-faire to show his cards in such a way.

“Of course I do.” You say, almost shouting out the phrase.

“Then there’s your fucking answer.” He spits and you detect the creeping feeling of anger climb up your belly and into your chest.

Jaehyun did that a lot while you were together, bottle up all his feelings until they came out in bitter anger. You always had enough grace for him. You never left him without a second chance. You did it to protect him, protect you two together. You were consumed with fear of losing him, so you gave him shot after shot.

But what’s left now? What’s left to protect? Why does he need any more chances?

Suddenly empowered, you stand and look him in the face, “You won’t get away with that now.”

This only fuels his fire, “What the fuck is the point!”

You step into his space and look up into his angered eyes, “Why did you ask me to talk?” Your tone demands more than asks. Your knees are shaking. Confrontation still doesn’t come easy to you.

He breathes out and seems to calm a bit when he answers your question with one of his own, “Who is that dude?”

A knowing look finally crosses your face as you look at him with disappointment, “Why can’t you ever just tell me how you’re feeling, why do you play these… these mind games!?”

You step away from him, frustration overwhelming you as you look up at the moon as you say your next phrase, “Why do I always have to figure it out myself?”

You look at him, pleading eyes. He’s never heard you speak with that tone, you’ve never looked at him like this before. For the countless time this evening, he’s in shock. What did this breakup uncover in you?

He says nothing, finally being brought to silence. He has no answers for you, he wishes he knew himself why he did what he did. Why he could never be fully honest with you— with anyone, for that matter.

That’s one of the reasons he loves you so much, you met him where he was. You never expected him to rise to your level.

“Look, I need to tell you something.” You break the quiet and step closer to him. He meets your gaze with desperate and sad eyes, no longer cold.

You sigh, feeling very small under his gaze, breaking eye contact and shaking your hands by your sides to dry off the sweat. Fighting the anxiety, you look back into his eyes and ignore the way your heart skips a beat.

“I would’ve stayed if you had fought for me out on the porch that night.” You breathe out, the fear of rejection always associated with vulnerability hitting you like a truck. His face morphs into an unreadable one, and your palms start to feel clammy again.

After what felt like hours of eye contact, he finally speaks.

“But I didn’t.” He says very quietly, eyes darting between your two as he attempts to commit them to memory. This is the last time he’ll have you like this, he suspects.

“No,” you sigh, “you didn’t.”

He shuts his eyes tightly with a sharp inhale and he looks like he’s about to cry. Your heart squeezes and you feel your own tear ducts threaten to awaken.

“How about now?” He says with a playful lilt in his voice once he collects himself. It almost makes you giggle, his natural charm shining through and reminding you why you were with him in the first place.

You break eye contact with him for a moment and suck your lips in between your teeth and look down at the distance between your feet.

The ball is in your court. Would you be crazy to consider taking him back? Something deep inside of you urges you to take the leap, which feels terrifying. Logic tells you to run away, but your heart won’t let your feet move back.

Instead, they move forward as you step to wrap your arms around Jaehyun’s middle in a tight hug.

He stiffens for a moment before melting into your embrace, one hand coming up to hold the back of your head with the other arm around your waist. He pulls you in closer. Closing your eyes and letting out a deep breath, it feels exactly as you wished it would.

“I missed you.” You say, and Jaehyun’s heart picks up a beat when he realizes what this means.

Are you giving him a second chance?

“I won’t ever— I… fuck,” Jaehyun stumbles over his words as he attempts to pick the right ones to make you not regret your decision. So many words are bouncing around in his head, he considers just kissing you the way he used to when he got overwhelmed with his feelings for you.

He feels over the moon with joy at this moment, but also weighed down with pressure. His heart is beating a mile a minute and you can hear it, nuzzling in closer to give him time.

He closes his eyes, reveling in the feeling of having you back. He was right. You are the love of his life. He’s never felt this way before, and he’s sure he won’t feel this way ever again.

For the first time tonight, what he says comes easily.

A whisper of “I love you.” Escapes his smiling lips. He’s bouncing with excitement to hear you say it back. You bite your lip and anticipate the giddy feelings to wash over you to urge you to share in his sentiment.

But they don’t.

The feelings never come, in fact, you feel the opposite. A dreadful feeling sweeps over you as you frown, biting your lip until it hurts.

“Say- say it again.” You request with a small voice that Jaehyun is far too love struck to notice sounds a little off.

He pulls you out of the hug this time to hold you by the shoulders and look straight into your eyes. He’s positively beaming with love. He’s never looked at you like this before and it only breaks your heart more at what you know is coming.

He says your name very slowly before speaking, “I never stopped loving you. I love you so much.”

Suddenly, the glass shatters in your heart and a sob escapes your throat, cowering over yourself with tears beginning to flow.

It’s wrong. You can’t describe it any other way. The feeling in your gut and the lack of feeling in your heart are telling you all that you need to know.

This, whatever it is now or once was, is wrong.

You continue to sob as Jaehyun stands before you with a confused frown on his face. Is he supposed to comfort you? His heart has been tugged around like a dog on a leash all evening long, he’s nearing the end of his rope. All he has left to give you is his honestly. All he has left is his love.

But something’s wrong. So wrong that Jaehyun, the most emotionally unintelligent and unaware person you know, notices.

“I— I can’t do it again.” You sob into your hand and Jaehyun quickly attempts to reassure you. He feels a sweeping sense of relief, he still has you.

“Baby, it won’t. I will never cheat on you again.” Jaehyun says with as much sincerity as he can physically muster.

His obliviousness makes you cry harder, shaking your head and directing your teary eyes to his.

“No, Jaehyun. I can’t.” You blink tears out of your eyes and swallow your sobs as confusion paints over his features again.

“I don’t get it.” He says plainly and you frown, taking a shaky deep breath in and out.

“We aren’t getting back together. I’m sorry.” You say before brushing your shoulder past Jaehyun, leaving him speechless in the front lawn alone to run indoors.

Jaehyun feels like he just got the wind knocked out of him as he stands, speechless and unmoving. Each inhale he takes feels more and more shallow, a dry cough escaping his throat. He has to remind himself to blink, counting his breaths as he inhales and exhales rhythmically.

Slowly, Jaehyun trails his gaze up to the full moon shining bright above. It was a full moon the night you first left him too, he remembers.

Unlike last time, though, all Jaehyun does is stare. He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t beg, he doesn’t plead for answers. He just stares.

Just like before, Jaehyun stands with the midnight breeze and the bright full moon. Alone, devastated, confused.

Right where you left him.

a/n: i know you want me to talk about the twist ending but i want to talk about how much i love all you readers <3. this is my first and only fic to ever have a consistently interested reader base. like i have people coming into my inbox with theories. theories!!! y’all are paying THAT much attention? man that means the world to me fr. thank you so much for loving ihth and i hope this fic did it justice, you waited a long time for it.

taglist: (if you responded to in hell there’s heaven i added you<3) @matchahyuck @maliakealoha @the-universe-in-you-jjh @yutanology @peachy-hoya @jinniect @cocopuffcrunch @mint-yooxgi @yuskitty @methneo @lovesuhng @sadchonkks @silcry @cryingforjae @soobsfairy444 @wife-of-tyler

#kflixnet #jaehyun #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fics #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun drabble #jaehyun fic #nct #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct angst #nct 127 #jaehyun has emotional werewolf problems