#heres hoping it will come across that way!

[oh-theseus]

bloody stones

pairing: astarion x gn!reader, astarion x gn!tav summary: you nearly die and astarion still can't bring himself to be honest with you. word count: 4,018 a/n: first time trying to write for astarion (or just bg3 in general) & i'm not sure it came out how i wanted it to, BUT i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless <333 i kind of wrote this to be like a background for a future thing i think... but no promises bc i am anything if not inconsistent 😭

warnings: descriptions of blood & injury, canon typical violence, mentions of past abuse. lmk if i should add more!

You were fairly certain you had never been as close to death as you currently were. Even while trapped inside of the nautiloid ship, you had felt like you would make it out. Granted, that might have been because you thought Lae’zel was going to kill you if you died, but still. Even then, on a ship that was actively crashing from hundreds of miles in the sky, you’d thought you’d make it out.

That hope is nowhere to be found as Z’rell drives her ax into your lower leg. You have been injured in battle dozens of times but this is the first time your injury has ever made you fall to your knees within three seconds of receiving it. There is next to no pain at first, but then she pulls her ax from your leg, and it feels like… well, like your leg was just split open.

Blood gushes down your leg, and you can’t stand up again, but by the grace of one of the gods, you manage to block her next attack. Her ax meets the blade of your sword with a loud clang that you can hear over the sounds of other blades clashing and spells being conjured. Anger blazes in Z’rell’s eyes and she surges her weapon further with as much strength as she can muster. You met her with the same effort, but you’re losing so much blood so fast. You’re not nearly as strong as she is.

A noise that is somewhere between a cry and a grunt falls from your lips. But you are certain this is it. You’ll die here. In Moonrise Towers with a parasite wiggling within your skull. You’ll die in a blighted land and your friends will go on without you. If they survive, that is. You can feel your arms wobbling, about to give out. Her ax will come down on your neck and you’ll sit here choking on your own blood until you die. Maybe she’ll dig the Illithid parasite out of your skull and consume it just as your Dream Guardian had urged you to do so many times before. You doubt Z’rell would have qualms about it though - if fact, she might just keep you alive while she digs around in your skull. She seems like the type.

But then there’s an arrow embedded in Z’rell’s neck. And now she’s the one choking on her blood, her weapon faltering. You don’t have time to be grateful, not when she’s determined to make a killing blow and take you out with her. It takes all of your effort to roll out of the way, her ax bouncing off of the bloody stone floor where your head had just been seconds previous. Your head is spinning from the movement, and your leg feels like dead weight, but you manage to draw your dagger and shove it deep into the disciples stomach.

Z’rell falls to her knees. Then forward, onto her face. Dead. 

Hands are underneath your arms, dragging you away from the rest of the battle before you even have time to process that you aren’t dead. You have half a mind to kick and struggle, but when you try to push the hands off of your body you stop your fighting. You know these hands.

“Astarion,” you choke out, tilting your head upwards to see him above you, carefully dragging you behind a turned over table. You can feel a trail of blood being left by your leg; for a moment you wonder if Astarion had smelled your blood before he saw it.

“Don’t talk,” Astarion scolds, propping your back against the table. Blood is splattered on his face and armor, his bow slung across his body. Your eyes shift to his quiver where only three arrows remain. If you weren’t so busy trying not to pass out from blood loss, you might have told him you were right when you’d told him this morning he needed more arrows. But you can hardly convince yourself to breathe, let alone make a joke.

Astarion’s face is twisted into an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen him wear before. There is determination there as he examines your wound, cursing beneath his breath. There’s concern too. But something else dances in his crimson eyes that makes you tilt your head to the side curiously. 

Fear.

Astarion is scared. 

“How bad?” you force out, leaning your head back against the overturned table. Your eyes lock on the ceiling of Moonrise. This had been a temple once. Briefly, as you fight to keep your eyes open, you decide that it might’ve even been beautiful.

“Not terrible,” Astarion lies. You know it’s a lie, and he knows you know that, too. You might’ve looked at him, tried to assure him you would be okay if you believed it. But you’re not quite sure that you do, so you keep your eyes on the ceiling, listening to the sounds of battle slowing down behind you.

Astarion stops talking after that. Your silence and sudden interest in the ceiling is enough to make Astarion certain his heart will start beating again just so it can race in fear. But his hands are quick in grabbing a healing potion from your belt and helping you get it down. They’re faster still as he shuffles through his discarded back for cloth to press to your wound. 

Blood quickly soaks the white cloth and Astarion’s hands, but the vampire doesn’t mind. He can’t be bothered to think about how potent your blood smells, how easy it would be to just take some for himself. He is certain that if you’d been bleeding out in front of him like this when you first met that he would’ve taken every last drop of blood that he could get. But right now… Astarion wasn’t sure he had ever wanted to puke at the sight of blood more.

Astarion isn’t sure he’s ever felt a panic quite like this before. Perhaps when he’d woken up in a coffin six feet underground. Maybe when he’d realized he was a slave to an evil vampire lord. But other than that? No, Astarion had never felt fear like this. Fear that clutches him by the throat, makes his hands start to tremble. Fear that won’t let him focus on the battle coming to end. Not even to see if his companions - his friends - had survived. All he knows is you, your blood coating his hands, and terror coursing through his entire being.

He’s so consumed by his fear that he doesn’t notice you’ve finally passed out. Nor does he hear Shadowheart approach until she’s shoving Astarion away from you, her hands immediately coming to rest above the gash in your leg. She starts to mutter the words of a healing spell and even Astarion can tell that she’s completely spent, that she’s using her last bit of magic and strength to coax your skin back together.

“Wake them up,” Shadowheart hisses, her eyes still locked on your leg. “Wake them up now, Astarion!”

The near crack in Shadowheart’s voice stirs Astarion from his fear driven stupor. His hands are on your face immediately, your name falling from his lips once, twice. His fingers find the pulsepoint at your neck, and Astarion doesn’t dare to move until he feels it. It’s faint, but it is there.

But your eyes are still closed, and no matter how hard Astarion tries, you will not wake up. You’re still breathing, but it’s hard and labored, and Astarion is certain that if he looks away from you for even a moment you will be gone for good. He didn’t know much, but Astarion did know that a world without you was not one he was willing to return to.

By the grace of… something, Shadowheart manages to mend the skin of your leg. She’s exhausted and can hardly stand by the time she’s finished, but she does it. You’re still out cold, and Astarion is not sure whether to start crying or to find something else to kill to distract himself.

“It’s the blood loss,” Wyll assures him quickly, hauling Shadowheart up from the ground with her arm over his shoulders. “They’ll live. But we need to move them. Now.”

The Blade of Frontiers does not waste another moment, leading Shadowheart across the main floor of Moonrise Towers, down into the basement. Astarion doesn’t hesitate to do the same with you, his blood coated hands holding you so, so carefully.

When you wake up, you’re pretty sure you’re dead. You didn’t know what you expected the afterlife to hold, but it certainly was not a stone floor and the smell of mildew. For a second you think that maybe you could be somewhere else (somewhere where you are not dead) but you can’t think very clearly right now. All you can feel is a distant throbbing in your head and a bone deep cold. Your leg… You could feel your leg. That was good, considering the last thing you could recall before passing out was taking Z’rell’s ax to your shin.

And Astarion. You remembered his familiar grip, pulling you to safety. You remembered his crimson eyes, the fear you’d seen in them. But that was it. You didn’t remember passing out or how light you had felt while blood seeped from your leg. For a moment, it troubles you that you can’t remember. But if this was truly your eternal resting place… maybe it was a good thing you couldn’t remember. You’re not sure that it's really something you’d enjoy dwelling on for the rest of eternity.

You’re not sure how long you lay there. You don’t move your body, and your eyes keep falling closed every once in a while. You feel lightheaded, yet impossibly heavy at the same time. All you can bring yourself to do is stare at the ceiling. Maybe there is a god here, because you’re gifted the memory of doing the very same thing before passing out the first time. And this ceiling looks remarkably similar to the one in Moonrise Towers.

That voice, too. The one you can hear in the distance - almost as if they are shouting for you from the other room. The voice is so similar to…

“Astarion?” You breathe out, your eyes finally shifting away from the ceiling. They fall instead to the person beside you. At first, they’re just a jumble of white curls and red eyes. But then your vision clears and so does your hearing. Astarion’s repeating your name, asking if you can hear him. All you can do is nod. At least you know you’re alive, though. Or at least, you’re pretty sure. Your brain is still foggy. The lingering effects of blood loss? Or perhaps one too many healing potions?

You somehow manage to force yourself into a sitting position. Astarion’s right hand splays against your lower back carefully, his left one hovering in front of your body to catch you if you fold in on yourself. When you straighten your back, the room spins so fast you’re certain that Gale’s cast a spell to make it do that. Your hands grip Astarion’s left arm to keep from falling over.

“Easy, easy,” Astarion says softly. You’re not certain of many things right now, but you are certain that you have never heard Astarion use that tone before. One so gentle, so soft. Even when he’d told you of Cazador and the scar that tainted his back. 

“I’m okay,” you reply after a moment. Your hands still grip his arm but neither of you seem to mind it. “I’m okay, promise.” The sentiment is just as much for yourself as it is for Astarion.

Astarion only hums in reply. His eyes are flickering over your face. Like he’s taking you in for the first time - or perhaps even the last. His hand on your back is a welcome weight and the feeling of his forearm under your fingertips keeps you grounded. This is real. You are here.

You are alive.

“Holy shit,” you curse. Your eyes widen and your breathing slowly begins to pick up. You’d been so close to dying, to bleeding out in a cursed land so far from home. You’d never thought you’d be one to care so much about something like this, but the fear that you could’ve died is gripping you by the throat, pinning you beneath its clutches. 

Astarion notices this. Of course he notices. He notices everything about you. The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. How you shift your weight from foot to foot when unsure about something. How your hands flex when you’re growing frustrated. So of course he notices your breathing picking up, your grip on his arms becoming just slightly tighter.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. You need to breathe, love.” He says your name softly then, still in that foreign tone of his. The hand at your back comes up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone. “Breathe,” his voice is firmer now, one you’re used to from him. Maybe it’s that tone of his that compels you to listen. Maybe it’s his hand cradling your face like you might slip away as soon as he lets you go. Or maybe it’s the fact that his eyes are still swimming with that fear you’d seen before you lost consciousness.

It takes a few moments, but you manage to even out your breathing. Those invisible claws at your neck retract, fading into the shadows of the room. The basement of Moonrise Towers, you realize. That was why the ceiling looked similar to the one upstairs. 

Everything returns to you then. The battle, Ketheric, the ax, the amount of blood you’d lost. Astarion’s arrow in Z’rell’s neck.

“You killed her,” you say, as if Astarion had not killed dozens of other enemies during your travels. “Nice aim.”

Astarion visibly deflates as soon as the joke leaves your lips. Your lips quirk into the smallest of smiles despite yourself. But then Astarion retracts his hand from your face, and that small smile falls away slowly. Astarion pretends not to notice it. You pretend like you don’t either; your attention shifts to your right leg, studying the skin exposed by the large tear in your pants. You make a mental note to find new pants.

Your hand trembles slightly as you remove it from Astarion’s arm and bring it down on your leg. Gingerly, you pull the ruined fabric back more and take in where the wound should have been. Instead, your skin looks near perfect. There is a thin scar from where Shadowheart’s healing had knitted the skin together but that is the only indication that your flesh had been torn apart that very same day.

“For a woman who worshiped the Lady of Loss, Shadowheart was rather good at keeping me - us from losing you.”

Your eyes shift to Astarion’s at his slip. You try to not let your face fall when he pulls his arm from beneath your other hand. He leans back in the chair that matches the table you’re laid out on top of, crossing his arms and screwing his face into that expression you’ve grown to recognize as a mask. A flash of hurt floods through you. Selfishly, you wonder how much more you will need to do to prove yourself before Astarion finally, finally trusts you.

“Shadowheart is a good healer,” you say instead of what you want to say. You want to comment on him being scared. You want to point out that he had literally saved your life. You want to tell him that that is not something you just do for someone you’re looking at with sheer indifference. “I think you’re the only one who doubts her.” Your own tone has changed. Despite the hurt in your heart, your tone is sharp.

“I do not doubt her, my dear. I don’t trust her. There is a difference,” Astarion replies with a wave of his hand. You don’t like this game. You hate this game. Why must he insist on playing it?

“Do you trust anyone, Astarion?”

If you were anyone else, Astarion would’ve had a quick retort. Or if you’d said it with anger in your voice. But you’re you and the question comes out with far less frustration than you had wanted it to. Instead, you sound sad. Hurt. And somehow, seeing you look like this is almost as bad as watching you bleed out. He predicts your next words before you say them, but he still winces at them all the same.

“Do you trust me?”

Your question hangs in the air between the two of you. Maybe it’s the lack of blood in your system that makes you say it. You never would have dared to ask something so vulnerable just a few feet from the rest of your companions normally. Maybe it’s the fact that you had almost died. Almost died with so many unsaid words swimming through your mind. Maybe that’s why you say it. Or maybe you’re just tired of not knowing what Astarion is truly thinking and feeling.

“You know I care for you,” Astarion replies after a moment. And you do know - how could you not when you’d seen his fear at the prospect of losing you with your own two eyes. How could you not know that he cared for you when he was so gentle every time he took your blood? How could you not know that he cared for you when he had sat beside you on sleepless nights? 

But that was not what your question was. 

“That’s not what I asked.” You intend to sound firm still. You fail, though, and you sound every bit as hurt and frustrated as you feel. “Why not?” Why didn’t he trust you? Or better, why did he not trust you enough? He trusted you enough to tell you about Cazador and what his former master had done to him. But he didn’t trust you enough to be honest about his emotions - especially his emotions towards you. Why? Why?

You watch as Astarion shifts in his seat. At first, you think he’s going to get up and walk away from you. Instead, he shifts forward, and his left hand finds yours. Your eyes fall to where your skin meets, they watch as Astarion holds your hand on top of his gently. His own attention is drawn to it, watching carefully as his other hand fidgets with your fingers.

“I thought you were going to die.”

His confession is soft, heartfelt. You might even be able to convince yourself he sounds like he might cry. But when he looks up to meet your eyes again, his crimson eyes are clear of tears. But there is pain there. Pain and torment and that fear. 

“I thought you were going to die and I would… And I would have to live with -” He gestures to himself with his hand that had been fidgeting with your fingers. “This.”

Your eyebrows knit together at his words, but you say nothing. You had long since learned that when Astarion was on the verge of opening up, it was best to let him get the words out on his own. Pressuring him had never gotten you anywhere. Well, except for right now. Every other time it had been entirely fruitless. 

“You have shown a kindness to me that I am unfamiliar with. With Cazador… His version of kindness was letting me eat instead of starving. But it always had a price. Always,” he can’t look at you anymore, instead looking intently at your hand in his. “Your kindness - I am learning - comes freely.”

“You are waiting for the other boot to drop,” You say, understanding what he is trying to tell you without directly saying it. When he nods, you swallow thickly. Words seem to fail you as you search desperately for the right thing to say. But there are no words that feel good enough.

Astarion also seems to be at a loss for words. Carefully, you place your hand not holding his under his chin and tilt his face upwards, so that your eyes meet once more. Your hand slides to cup his cheek, and your heart swells when you feel him press into your touch gently. 

“I am not him.”

Astarion’s eyes close at your words. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything except sit there for a long moment. So long that you think he isn’t going to reply. But then he turns his head, and he kisses the palm of your hand. Then where your hand meets your wrist. Then the inside of your wrist. As he places the third kiss to your skin, you let your hand fall away and watch as he picks it up with his free hand.

He doesn’t say it, but you know he understands. He knows you are not Cazador. And you don’t say it, but he knows you understand. You know he is trying. And neither of you say it, but both of you see those three words swimming in each other’s eyes. But you both know they’re there.

“Thank you,” you say after a long minute. “For not letting me die. Not that I expected you to, but…”

But you knew he wouldn’t have saved you a few weeks ago. 

“I mean it. Thank you.”

The fear in Astarion’s eyes finally melts away and that smirk of his falls onto his lips. But this was not his mask - no, this was his real joy. His real happiness at your not being dead and at being able to let a joke slip past his lips knowing you didn’t expect anything because of it.

“I can think of a few ways you could show that gratitude,” he says suggestively. A smile of your own spreads across your face, despite the color that floods it, too. Weakly, you shove his hands off of yours and roll your eyes at him. “You are welcome. I’ll save you a thousand times over if it means I get to see your smile once more.”

“Oh, don’t get soft on me now,” You say through your grin. But you’d like nothing more. A soft Astarion meant a healed one, a safe one. If that meant you were subjected to a few sappy lines here and there, you wouldn’t mind it.

“Hard to be soft with you around.”

“Astarion,” You hiss, realizing the joke you’ve walked yourself right into. For a second you debate getting off of the table and smacking him over the head, but when you shift your leg just slightly, that dizziness returns and has you gripping the edge of the table. 

Astarion is on his feet within a moment, noticing the change in you as soon as it happens. His hand has returned to your back, steadying you as the room starts to spin again. With your head a little clearer now, you recognize the feeling as similar to what you feel when Astarion drinks from you. With how strongly you’re feeling it… you don’t want to think about how much blood you must have lost.

“Rest. Please,” Astarion says in that soft voice again. And truly, who are you to deny him when he’s being so gentle? You let him coax you onto the table, onto the soft pile of fabrics you hadn’t realized had been under your head until just now. You want to stay conscious, to talk to Astarion more, but as soon as you’ve settled back down, you realize just how tired you are.

When you stir hours later, you’re tucked into your bedroll within your tent. And Astarion is sitting not far from you, reading. You don’t say anything as sleep overtakes you again, but you’re pretty certain you could get used to waking up to the sight of Astarion.

And Astarion’s pretty certain he wouldn’t mind it either.

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[pathologicalreid]

Spencer x fem!reader fic based on “Work Song” by Hozier?? Whatever storyline or category you want!!

work song | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, near death experience, blood, gunshot wound, hospitals. word count: 1.77k a/n: hozier song request makes my brain go brr. i hope the people of tumblr enjoy this bc i most definitely enjoyed writing it.

boys, when my baby found me

Your hair whipped your face as you spun around through the labyrinth of a warehouse that your team had found themselves in. It seemed like an impossible task, trying to navigate this space, but you had already cleared over half of the space.

A small noise, like a shoe squeaking, caught your attention, causing your ears to rise like an animal hunting for prey. Turning a corner, you had your flashlight and firearm raised, coming face to face with Morgan. The both of you relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to pounce.

Ricocheting throughout the warehouse, you heard a deafening gunshot. The sound bounced off of the metal walls of the building, making it almost impossible for you to determine where the sound originated from. Meeting Morgan’s eyes, he nodded his head to the left, signaling for you to go that way while he went right.

You affirmed his tactics, turning slowly and making your way to the left. The rusted building was now so eerily quiet that goosebumps were sprouting across your body, even under your bureau jacket.

Continuing your way down the narrow passageway, you saw movement inside of a room. Sliding your back along the wall, you peeked into the room, seeing two bodies on the ground. You whispered almost imperceptibly into your radio, calling for medical. One of them was the local officer that the BAU had been working the case with.

The other one was Spencer.

You pivoted so that you were entirely in the doorway, facing the UnSub, he raised his gun at you, but you were already pulling the trigger, hitting him square in the forehead. Breathing heavily, you lowered your firearm before scrambling over to Spencer.

I didn’t care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her

In your ear, you could hear Morgan shouting, “Y/N, Reid, sound off, dammit!”

Something needed to happen. You needed to do something, but you had such severe tunnel vision that the only thing you could think about was Spencer.

He was gasping for air on the metal ground of the warehouse, lying in a pool of his own blood. You observed in horror as the red puddle spread with each passing moment.

Launching into action, you tugged your jacket off, stuffing the fabric onto Spencer’s side in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Even Kevlar vests had an Achilles heel, and the UnSub had managed to strike him precisely where there was a gap in the material. All the while, you were muttering the words, “Stay awake.” Just those two words, over and over again, like a prayer.

You hummed, using one hand to apply pressure to his wound and lifting the other so that you could smooth his hair back. His skin was alarmingly clammy, and you knew that, even with your attempts, he was losing too much blood. “Y/N,” he muttered, sounding like he was using all of his strength to say your name.

Gently, you hushed him, “It’s okay, Spence. Don’t talk, you’re gonna be just fine,” you insisted as his blood soaked through the knees of your jeans. You weren’t sure who you were trying to console at that moment.

“It makes sense-“ he said, being cut off by a cough, sending blood spurting out of his mouth. If his lung was collapsing, there was nothing you’d be able to do. You tried to shush him again, but he had more to say – he almost always did. “That I’d see you while I’m dying.”

Choking on tears, you leaned your face onto your shoulder so that you could wipe them away without moving your hands. “I’m here, I’m really here,” you urged, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t dying. Not on your watch. “It’s me, Spence. I’m right here,” you told him carefully.

He opened his mouth again to speak, and you wanted to tell him to save his strength. You also didn’t want to deprive him of his words. “You…” his voice trailed off as he searched for the words, “You’ve always been my favorite dream.”

Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’m not a dream, I’m right here.” You told him, watching carefully as his eyelids grew seemingly heavier, “baby, open your eyes.”

in the low lamplight I was free

His skin was pallid. Even in the dim, orange light of the warehouse, you could see a sickly sheen forming on his skin. His body temperature was dropping, and it was all you could do to not cover his body with yours as you tried to keep him warm. “Spencer, please,” you rasped, urging him to open his eyes.

Your only solace was that his chest was still rising and falling. His breathing was rickety, but he was still breathing, and that had to count for something. “Spencer,” you cried, watching as blood sept through your jacket, flooding between your fingers as you tried to keep him in one piece.

“Love, open your eyes,” you begged, your eyes flooding with tears until everything was just a blur of red.

His heart was beating, you could feel it beneath your hands. A weak, unsteady beat under your trembling hands. “Baby, please, oh my god,” you pleaded, verging toward incoherent babbling.

You were second-guessing if he was still breathing. If his heart was still beating. With that realization, you screamed.

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

At first, you were just screaming, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords portray your emotions, and then you screamed for your team. You had never felt more alone, kneeling in a puddle of Spencer’s blood, and no one was coming to help you.

This couldn’t be how it ended. You refused to acknowledge it, even as you felt the life leave his body.

Leaning your head to the side, you spoke into your radio, “I need medical. I’m in the upper west wing of the building. The suspect is dead, I have an officer and an agent down.” Tears continued to stream down your face.

You heard footsteps behind you as people piled into the room, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off Spencer. Not when there was a chance that it would be the last time you looked at him while you were both still breathing. “Agent,” someone said, but it didn’t register. They kept repeating themselves until two strong arms wrapped around you, dragging you away from Spencer.

Now sat on the floor, you clocked the paramedics that were now frantically working on Spencer, packing his wound, and cutting off the Kevlar vest.

Breathing heavily, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Rossi approached the local officer, checking his pulse. Emily was hovered over the UnSub, collecting his weapon from his corpse.

You were still being firmly held back, trying to pry the tattooed arms of Derek Morgan off of your torso. “Stop, let me get to him. I need to get to him,” you struggled against his grip, but any attempts at freedom were futile. The medics were saying awful things about a weak and thready pulse and pneumothorax.

Clinging to any semblance of hope that you could find, you listened to them talk about Spencer’s pulse, knowing that a pulse meant he was alive.

Your breathing quickened as you looked up at Morgan, Hotch was hovering behind the two of you, “I should’ve called for medical sooner.” Your voice was miserable, you had sat there with your jacket to his side for far too long. He could’ve gotten help from professionals.

“You radioed almost five minutes ago for medical,” Morgan informed you. “The EMTs just couldn’t find you in this damn maze.”

While you had no recollection of calling for help when you first found Spencer, you also knew that Morgan would get no pleasure out of lying to you.

You heard one of the paramedics say there was no pulse, and you didn’t remember anything that followed.

no grave can hold my body down

Crumpled in a ball, you picked at the crusted blood in your fingernails as you focused on the steady beeping of Spencer’s heart monitor.

According to Emily, who had been there when you woke up in the hospital, you had passed out around the time that the medics lost Spencer’s pulse. The doctor said it was just a result of stress. Thanks to some IV fluids and hydroxyzine, you were able to be discharged.

Spencer had been out of surgery for several hours now. The doctors had been careful to use the term “if he wakes up”, while you had made sure to say “when he wakes up.” You were playing the most horrendous waiting game, and there’s nothing worse than playing a game you have no interest in.

You were now donning a pair of black sweatpants and an old Academy t-shirt. Being the only team member permitted to see Spencer while he was still sleeping – girlfriend privileges, as Morgan phrased it – you waited with only the noises of his monitor to keep you company in the ICU.

Nurses came in and out, trying to manage his pain without the use of narcotics, making sure his blood transfusions were helping, and every once in a while, they’d check on you.

At this point, you had been nursing the same cup of ice water for hours, remembering the last thing Spencer had said to you: You’ve always been my favorite dream.

There was something so peculiar about being with someone who read so much, especially when he said such eloquent things while bleeding to death. You sighed, slumping back in the chair, you looked back at Spencer, only to be surprised that he was looking right back at you.

You jumped slightly in the chair, leaning over so that you could look at him, “Hey,” you whispered, maintaining the reverent tones of the Intensive Care Unit. “How do you feel?”

He’d lie to you and tell you he was fine, but you could tell by the way his heart rate increased that it was a lie. His eyebrows furrowed as he clocked the white patient ID bracelet on your wrist and your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been crying,” he observed.

Despite yourself, you smiled softly, “I thought you were dead.” Your voices were each raspy, yours from screaming and his from being intubated.

Slowly, he unfolded his arm so that his hand was extended to you. Without a second thought, you placed your hand in his. He hummed softly, “And leave you? Never.”

I’ll crawl home to her

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #margot's requests #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid whump #criminal minds whump

[markiemelon]

hiii, can you do something with jaemin? like a college friends to lovers?

breakfast

genre. fluff, crack 🍞

pairings. jaemin x gn!reader

falling asleep at your friend!jaemin’s place wasn’t your intention.. yet, there you were, knocked out on the couch. you eventually woke up, disoriented and sore, while the smell of burnt toast polluted the air. on the other side of the open room, jaemin stood behind the kitchen counter, preoccupied with scraping char off the bread slices. he perked his head up once he heard you rustling around. “oh. you’re up.”

“what time is it?” you yawned, reaching for your phone, only to find it cold and dead.

“it’s like 10 or something—” his tone was casual, and it threw you off.

“jaemin!” you jumped to your feet. “i had a class at 9!” you continued, “i told you to wake me up if i ever fell asleep here again!” you ran to the bathroom, looking for the toothbrush jaemin got you last time.

his expression became one of shame, like a child being scolded by his mother. “i know, but you just looked so peaceful…”

this isn’t the first time this has happened. more often than not, jaemin invites you to hang out after class.. so you usually find yourself leaving with him to walk to his apartment… you just can’t get enough of him.

once you get there, you hope for a productive afternoon, maybe crank out some assignments. but instead, you end up talking to him all night. you’ll eventually glance at the ungodly hour on the clock, and think, "just 5 more minutes. i'll get going in 5 minutes." 5 minutes turns into 5 hours... and next thing you know, the sun is up, you've slept through all your alarms, and you're grabbing your things to rush out.

“i need to go home-” you pat your hands around the couch, looking for your purse, tossing around the blankets and pillows jaemin put on you while you were asleep.

“wait.” he interjected. “when’s your next class?”

“at 1… but i still have to go home and get dressed...” you sighed, slumping onto the stool at the kitchen island.

“you still have plenty of time to eat breakfast...” jaemin said, nudging over a plate of toast that was grilled to the point of no return.

“jaemin…” you laughed. “im not eating that.” you eyed the dish, and a chill went down your spine. “i’ll just have some cereal.” you helped yourself to his cabinets in a search for a more edible alternative.

sitting across from jaemin at the table, you crunched on your cereal while he picked at his burnt toast… his pride wouldn’t let him throw it out. “so do you wanna come over again later?” he waited for you to chew your food before you replied.

“jaemin, be for real.” you set down your spoon. “i can’t keep coming over on weekdays. i lose track of time and fall asleep.. i can’t keep doing that.”

“why not?” he said, mouth full. “why can’t you fall asleep here?”

“i don’t have my stuff here! no skincare, no clothes…” you counted a finger for each point you listed. “and by the time i wake up, im late, and i still have to go home and get ready...”

“well then.. why not just bring stuff to stay the night.” he cleared his throat. “pack your clothes and skincare and whatever… plus, you already have a toothbrush here.”

“do you want me to stay or something?” you took a sip of juice, eyes peeking over the cup.

“i just like having you around...” he picked at the toast some more, but had yet to actually taste it.

you thought for a moment. “yeah sure.” you shrugged, ignoring the way he just made your heart flutter.

“wait really?” he looked up from his plate.

“i mean… i guess it’s not a problem as long as i bring stuff to stay.” you said, getting up from your seat to go wash your bowl in the sink. jaemin followed right behind you and draped his arms over your shoulders, pulling your back into his chest. “then can you bring stuff to stay longer than 1 night?”

jaemin has always been a pretty affectionate friend, so you didn’t think much of the hug… “maybe i could stay until the weekend..”

“just until the weekend?” he squeezed you a little tighter.

but was he always this clingy?

“na jaemin, when did you get so clingy?”

“well these days, i…” he stopped himself.

“these days, you...?” you hummed, tugging on his arms that were still embracing you, urging for him to finish his sentence. you began swaying side to side ever so slightly. “let’s just stay like this for a minute.” he cooed, catching on to your rhythm, rocking in the silence. he really gave the best hugs. after a moment, he disrupted the stillness of the room. “move in with me.”

hearing him say that so bluntly made your heart drop. flustered, you turned around to face him, his arms now resting on your back. “all of a sudden?” you laughed.

“mm.” he nodded his head to agree, looking at you so endearingly. he gradually inched his face closer to yours, and you didn’t mind.

“jaemin.”

“yeah?” he answered, just inches away.

“are you trying to kiss me right now?” you teased, as your gaze wandered from his eyes to his lips.

“are you gonna let me?” he teased back. you couldn’t hold back your smile, and he basically took that as confirmation.

he didn’t have to lean in much more before his lips were touching yours. your eyes fluttered as his hands gently met your cheeks, even tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“what are we doing?” you whispered in between breaths.

“just enjoy it.” he reassured you.

and for some reason, his words really put you at ease. in that moment, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. you reconnected your lips, and let yourself fall more in love with your best friend than you already were.

his smile forced him out of the kiss. “so does this mean we can have breakfast together every morning?”

you scoffed at his remark. “maybe if you learn how to cook first…”

@lovesuhng thanks so much for the request!!!! such a cute idea. hope you like it!!!

#markiemelon #nct blurbs #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct soft blurbs #nct fluff #nct soft hours #nct timestamps #nct dream #nct dream timestamps #nct dream soft hours #nct dream blurbs #nct dream drabbles #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #jaemin soft hours #jaemin fluff #na jaemin #nct x gender neutral reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin blurbs #jaemin drabbles #jaemin scenarios #jaemin #nct #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 62

part 1 | part 61 | ao3

cw: violence, off-hand mentions of drug use

Light bleeds through the cracks in the boathouse walls. Max is the one who found it, spotted the glowing bulb over the door and called them down the slope behind the house to check it out, and now Steve leads the group inside and clings to his nail bat in a way he hopes is reassuring but is probably just putting everyone else on edge. 

Can’t really be helped, though. 

Place gives him the creeps. 

It's dark and dank, overwhelmingly humid, with a smell like mildew and old food over a layer of fear sweat, and the wood groans beneath their feet while the walls sway with the breeze. Makes it feel like the room is breathing, like they're standing inside of a haunted lung. 

Steve braces himself in the middle of the room, head on a swivel while the group fans out around the edges, dipping in and out of shadow. Dustin calls for Eddie. Max checks the latch on a window. Robin points her flashlight at a pile of food wrappers and says, "This looks new." 

Steve flexes his fingers on the bat; picks up an oar, too, just to be safe.

"What?" Dustin snorts. "You gonna dual-wield against your boyfriend?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "He's not my—"

"—Ex-boyfriend, then, whatever. Still can't believe you never told me about that." 

“Okay,” Steve huffs. Dustin’s grumpy muttering sounds more hurt than he’s letting on, but he’s letting on plenty, and Steve’s too keyed up to do this right now. “Can we just—” He gestures around the room with the oar to illustrate how completely not the time for this it is. “Can we not?" 

"No,” Dustin protests, voice rising, “no, we can't not, Steve, because you—" He steps into Steve’s space, jabbing a finger against his sternum and backing him up to the edge of a tarp-covered boat. "—are a liar. You have been lying to me for months! And now it looks like you're gearing up to try and bludgeon my good friend with two blunt objects!" 

"Shut up!” Steve snaps. He takes a deep breath; lifts the blunt objects in question, giving them a little shake. “First of all, it's not the boyfriend I'm worried about using these on, and secondly—"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence. 

He doesn’t get to plant his feet.

With a noise like a war cry, something blue blurs at the edge of Steve’s periphery and launches him across the room, shoving him backward over tarps and tackle boxes until his back slams against the wall and knocks the wind out of him, and his skull smacks the wood and sets off a snow storm in his vision — muffled ringing in his ears, tornado warning wailing through a thick layer of cotton. Steve’s friends are all shouting, and there’s something sharp against his throat, and someone is barking questions at him; hot, stale breath over his chin; a fist balled up in the front of his shirt. 

“Are you real?” the voice demands, hand twisting in Steve’s collar and tugging him against the sharp thing. “ARE YOU REAL?”

Steve blinks. Blinks and sways into the sharp sting beneath his jaw until the dizzy spell ends.

The scene before him comes into focus slowly.

Steve thinks, for the millionth time that day, that he must be losing his mind. That he must have lost it already.

The blurry, shouting thing is Eddie. Eddie, who is glassy-eyed and drooling like a wild animal, who is pinning Steve to a splintered wall with a shattered bottle to his throat; whose face floods Steve with such intensely euphoric relief that he thinks he finally gets why people do hard drugs.

Even now, even like this, the only thought in Steve’s head is how lovely Eddie's face is.

How grateful he is to see it again, even if it might be the last thing he ever sees.

Beside them, Dustin speaks in low, placating tones, holding out his hands and encouraging Eddie to back off. Promising that Steve’s not gonna hurt him, that they’re all just here to help as Eddie’s eyes slip over and past Steve and his body tenses for the kill.

“Not real, not real, not real,” Eddie mumbles, spit shining on his shaking lip.

The bottle knicks Steve’s skin. 

“Eddie!” Dustin begs. Max and Robin's eyes are huge. And Steve—

Steve laughs. A soft, hysterical thing, barely voiced, because of course Eddie’s going to kill him. Of course he is.

He’s already been doing it for weeks. 

"What happened to your knife?" he jokes wetly, tipping his head back to bare his throat.

The question snaps Eddie back to himself. Steve watches from under his damp lashes as Eddie's eyes sharpen on him, darting all over his face with sudden, painful awareness, with something dangerously close to hope.

The hand holding the bottle trembles. "...Baby?" Eddie whispers, wet eyes searching still.

Steve holds his gaze. Nods against the jagged edge.

Glass shatters on the floor as Eddie collapses into him.

—

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #my writing #my fic

[bardic-inspo]

Dhampir Dreams

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Tav (Generic/Unnamed)

Rating: Explicit (Smut)

Key Tags: breeding kink, pregnancy kink, body worship, light dom/sub, light bondage, light praise kink, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dacryphilia, cunnilingus, PIV, Astarion’s past trauma, smut with so many feelings but nearly no plot, character introspection

Summary:

Tav saw beauty in Astarion he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like. Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her. Or: an angsty-turned-horny character study about the pale elf and his thoughts on creating new (un)life.

A/N: This is my first stab at writing a more generic Tav. Tav in this piece is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. Most other identifying features are left out.

Click here to read on AO3 instead

Astarion’s never thought much about making another vampire.

In the rare moments the notion occurred to him, he shoved it to the far back shelf of his mind so as not to waste himself on an exercise in futility. What did it matter, after all, while Cazador still lorded over him?

More than anything, Astarion yearned to see Cazador’s blood spill. In his mind’s eye, he’d watch it pool across the floor, not unlike the way he'd seen so much clothing puddled at so many heels. The lake he’d make of his master would be wide enough to swallow the garments of all who’d stripped bare before Astarion. Every sweat-soaked night he found himself bound to another moldering mattress beneath someone else’s weight, rocking through the motions that left his stomach sour, he’d fill his mind with such sweet dreams as Cazador’s death.

Whether Cazador would allow Astarion to drink his blood before being relieved of it varied with the fantasy. The dream changed as often as the hands on Astarion’s hips. It mattered little to him whether Cazador’s end came with true vampirism or not. As long as he ended. 

As long as the vile river of shit that comprised Astarion’s life ended, one way or another. For better. Or for good.

Of course, he flirted with the fantasy of his own spawn, sent out like skittering spiders to dispense his will. Foul little monsters they would be. Fine tools to have in his arsenal; Astarion would only want such wretches of his own the way one might want a hammer to pound a nail. And what he wanted didn’t hold any weight while bound in Cazador’s chains.

So the idea recoiled into the dusty recesses of his mind, collecting cobwebs kitty-corner to such out of reach trophies as freedom from his servitude to Cazador and the sun itself. Both still gleamed, despite the tarnish of time and hope rusted over. Despite Astarion’s prayers, no heroes came to save him. No gods or slayers or saviors spared him from his servitude. 

Until the illithids did.

Despite everything -- the centuries of torment, the hollow where his heart should be, its silence in his ribcage, the scars on his back, the thousands of other lashes that Cazador let fade from his porcelain skin -- Astarion did the one thing Cazador could never.

He stood in the sun. And on the sands of that same beach, another miracle washed ashore. A contradiction. His counterweight to everything else he’d ever known.

Tav.

Astarion’s hands roam the supple shape of her nestled against his bare chest. Her breath crests and falls soft and rhythmic, like the gentle slap of waves against the cliffs where they first found each other. His darling is always so serene in her sleep. Astarion dips his head down, nosing her splayed hair on the pillow, drinking in the lovely scent of lavender that always lingers with his lover.

Often, he wakes before her, as he does now in the dim blue light of dusk. Not yet dark enough for him to step outside, but for the moment, there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be. Not even in the raw, rippling light of day.

The smell of her has his eyelids heavy again, the steady patter of her heartbeat hypnotic in his head. His hands curve over the flare of her hips before slipping beneath the hem of her tunic. He stifles the satisfied hum that bubbles in the back of his throat as his palm smooths down the lithe stretch of her stomach. He resettles with his nose in the crook of her neck, eyelashes grazing the twin puncture scars that mark her as his.

He’d thought, once, that he’d ascend and have her at his side for an eternity. He was scared. Frantic. Grasping. He thought he had to grasp at something, fashion some sort of tether, to have her. Thought he had to have power, and enough of it, to keep her. Now he holds her every morning in the bed they share, until day becomes night again. It’s as effortless as blinking.

Now, the thought of turning Tav into a vampire turns his stomach.

His lips brush, tender, to the flutter of her pulse in her neck. He loves those marks he gave her. He loves the way her fingertips tap against them when she’s lost in thought. He loves the way she arches into his arms as he feeds, the way her body gives and gives to him alone. That sleepy, slap-happy smile she has when he’s lapped his last for the evening. The way her eyes roll back, and she gasps, breathless, as he kisses a trail from her neck to a nipple and sucks fervently.

He loves that he’s marked her, but that it didn’t change her. He can still curl into the heat of her skin at night. Still watch her preen in a mirror. Still stare at those gorgeous eyes and know the shade of them is hers. Her cheeks still turn the shade of sunrise when he leans in with a lustful whisper, or grazes her waist with a feather-light touch.

Absently, his fingers follow the path of an old scar on her stomach. At its end, he finds the start of softness. Astarion loves that, too. She didn’t used to be soft there, when they were just surviving. They’re not just surviving anymore.

Perhaps he’s changed her after all. It’s not so scary anymore to admit she’s turned him, too. Not to the light, or anything so nauseatingly righteous. But rather, so Astarion could see himself in it. Even if his days of standing in the sun are done.

I’ll be your mirror, she vowed, what feels like another lifetime ago. She smiled in that fond way of hers that, at the time, hurt to look at too long. He scoffed at her poetic ruminations on his hair curling near his ears. The creases when he laughs. 

Tav saw beauty in him he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like.

Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her.

He’s thought of Tav as a mother before. It flitted through his mind when Astarion watched her ease Arabella’s pounding heart with the gentleness of her own. That feeling lingered when Yenna joined their camp, and Astarion caught Tav teaching her cards. Combing the snarls from the girl’s hair. Coaching her in the basics of swordplay.

She’d be a wonderful mother. Astarion has no doubts in that regard. And he, well…

He doesn’t have an example to look back on, or one to look up to. But he has his compass. Tav’s heart beats, sure and steady, in his ear. That sound’s guided him through so much else. How could he lose his way for long, if there were two pitter-patters to listen to? 

His palm paints cool over that blooming softness in her stomach. An ache burns in his own. The sort of hunger her blood won’t sate. Would she taste even sweeter, he wonders, with her body rounded and swollen? 

Of course she would. So hard to improve something so perfect already. But she’d be radiant, if she were ripe with their child.

And after, when their babe is born, and her body is new all over again, he'd love every line, every fold, every mark that came from their coupling. He’d worship every part of her that was remade by the two of them to make the three of them. Marvel at the way the same body that first truly fed him would feed their child, too. 

He’d help her find her way back to pleasure in her own way, in her own time. Just as she did for him. His Tav gives, and gives, and he’d give her anything, everything, for the rest of his days, if a wretch like him would be so stupidly blessed to be the father of her child.

Astarion pulls a breath between his teeth, his nose flooding with her floral scent again. That would change, too. She’d carry new notes in her sweat, in her slick, in her blood, while carrying their babe. Astarion wants to taste them all, to learn what songs she can sing while he does.

Instinctually, he presses to the plump of her ass to soothe the building stiffness in his cock. He plants a muted hum in the fabric of the pillow. His groin throbs to the thump-thump of his compass, beating oblivious beneath her ribs.

He pictures pouring into her, night after night, his spend spilling in little translucent rivers down her slicked thighs, overflowing from her cunt. Too much for her to hold in, but she’d take him as long as it takes until life sparks inside of her. Tav’s determined in all her undertakings. Resilient. 

And in his dreams, she’s pliant. Pleading. 

“Star, please.”

She’s trembling in that slinky, translucent nightgown she wears to bed sometimes. The one that hardly hides her skin, but cloaks it in a delectable, silvery sheen. He likes it too much to ruin it. Or at least, he has every other night. 

Oh, he’d like to ruin it, now.

Tav’s pupils are blown black with want. Sweat shimmers on her skin, spurring his tongue to swipe his own lips. Her shoulder peeks bare from her nightgown, and Astarion can see her pebbled nipples, dark beneath the sheer silk that separates them. Hardened with hardly a touch. A feeling he’s intimately familiar with. His cock twitches as he strokes the back of his hand over the soft swell of her breast. 

“Aren’t you sore, sweet thing?” He tries for tender, but it comes out coarse. Rough like the way he wants to grip her hips.

“So be gentle,” she says with a sultry smile, lips peeled apart and glistening just enough that Astarion can’t peel his eyes away. “I know you’ll take good care of me.”

Astarion slinks forward, crowding her against the edge of the bed. Careful, like cradling glass, his palm reaches out to cup the side of her cheek. She sighs into the touch, the curve of her smile reaching the heel of his hand.

“Always,” he says reverently, before his voice sinks to a growl. “You’re always so, so eager…for me.”

Her lashes flutter low over hungry eyes. All it takes is one little wordless bob of her head for Astarion’s own hunger to have the best of him. With a lazy roll of his wrists, he shoves her back with kind but firm force. The mattress bends with her impact, her breathless laughter nearly lost beneath the whine of the wooden frame. Astarion crawls after her, hands fisting in her nightgown, and pulling her free of it.

And then, she’s bare beneath him. Writhing from his tongue and teeth. Gasping out the best words he’s ever heard. Astarion downs them like a man starved, kissing her with the kind of fervor he thought reserved for bloodlust. But her lips, the promises they pour, are sustenance all on their own.

“I’m yours,” she whispers, “all yours. Always. All of me.”

Astarion can’t stifle the whine that drags from some hollow in his chest he never knew about before.

The bed creaks as he hitches one of Tav’s limber legs up over his shoulder and nips a path of sharp kisses from her ankle to the crux of her thigh. He pauses, sweeping a feverish gaze over the spread of her: legs parted in his grip, that perfect slit, already wet with want, the rest of her sprawled naked across the bed, at his mercy, at his desire, at her own. 

He leans down, tongue dipping leisurely through her cunt. Always, she swore. So there’s no hurry in how he takes apart the woman he loves so dearly, in one of her favorite ways to be unmade. No matter how many times she claws the sheets and hisses, “Please, Star. F-fuck, I need you inside of me.”

It turns something in the depths of him to hear his own name said as a prayer. It makes him want with a force and harshness stronger than any thirst he’s felt for blood. He wants to turn her. Change her. Forever, for good. For the life they could make from their bodies, bound as close as souls could be. He wants to see her swell with the love they make, with all the love he’ll leave inside her.

She’s so close, her legs quaking violently when her hand tangles his hair and yanks his head upright. She’s beautiful, flushed ruby red, taking her air in shallow doses. Her eyes burn with equal measures adoration and reproach.

Astarion smirks, unrepentant, lips smeared with devotion. “My love, any work of art takes time. And that’s what we’re making, you know. When others look upon our progeny, they will weep in the sight of such beauty.”

“If all it takes is time, dearest,” she says, with a smile just as filthy, “then I don’t want to waste one second of it lying here empty.”

“Mmm,” Astarion sighs, nosing down against her throbbing clit, eyes flashing back to hers as he dares another lick. Her fist tightens in his hair. Astarion only chuckles. 

“You’re right, of course,” he croons. “That won’t do, at all. I do recall promising to-- how did you put it the other night? ‘Fuck you full and senseless’? I’m more partial to what you begged me for a tenday ago, when I had you face-down and waiting for me as soon as the sun was set. Remind me again, my love, what you said when you weren't gasping my name?"

Astarion presses the tip of his tongue to her clit again and tastes her rapid, ravenous pulse in the heat of it. Tav’s hips jerk in response, but he holds her fast.

“I-I said I want-- that I want--”

“You want me to ‘breed you like a damn animal’," he finishes for her. "Oh, don’t be shy now, my sweet. We’re far past that. And we want the same things, after all. But," he sighs, letting his lips drag through her flushed folds, "I've another promise to keep, first.”

Astarion flicks his wrist, muttering magic beneath his breath. Tav’s sharp little yelp of surprise shoots heat straight to his groin. His cock throbs as she settles again, arms bound above her head by his mage hand, tits bouncing from the slightest struggle against her restraints. She smirks up at him, eyes aflame with fresh desire. Escape is the farthest thing from what she wants.

“You lie back now, dear,” Astarion drawls. “You’ll take me soon enough. You’ll be so good for me, like you always are, and take everything I give you. And I’ll take very, very good care of the woman I intend to make a mother.”

Astarion watches her keenly, tracing his forefinger down through her slick. He unfurls it, circling her cunt daintily, and watching her writhe for even the faintest promise of friction. He’s not sure if it’s his mercy or his selfishness that readily discards the thought of keeping her here, just like this, for the rest of the day. She’s mesmerizing, with the way her back arches from the blankets, and how her body strains towards any touch he’ll spare her. 

All mine, he thinks, with a smile that makes him feel weightless. He grounds his hardened cock against the edge of the bed, groaning. All yours, darling. Just for you.

Pride rumbles low in his chest as he sets his mouth back to work again and knows she can’t cover her own. There’s no muffling his name pouring from her lips. No hiding how she cries for him. Her whole body winds taut, shuddering with every stroke of his tongue. 

Finally, finally, he lets his finger slip inside her. Astarion sighs into a satisfied purr, letting the tremble of it soak into her sex. Her cunt’s a vice around his knuckle. Every pump of his finger feeds the building burn inside him, fanning the ache to be sheathed in that tightness. He only aches more, feeling her squeeze around his finger, and knowing she longs for him just the same.

He slips in a second finger to join the first, feeling her spread and then clench anew. Astarion ruts aimlessly into the mattress, in time with the thrust of his wrist. The head of his cock weeps anticipation with the rogue tear trailing down the side of her cheek. It’s only pleasure that makes her cry.

There’s only love in her heavy-lidded gaze as she pants, “Please.”

Mercy, then, Astarion resolves. For both of them.

Her thighs quiver against his ears like leaves in a breeze. Astarion swirls his tongue against the bud of her clit and sucks tightly. Tav stiffens abruptly. His arms hook firm around her legs as a shattered sound breaks from her throat,and a hard tremor courses through her hips. 

He holds her through it, pinning her to the bed until just the faintest brush of his lips has her shuddering. The start of her plaintive whimper has him easing back. A murmured word sets her wrists free of her restraints. Her heart still hammers, sumptuous, in his head, as he peppers her legs in kisses soft as velvet.

“Beautiful,” he whispers with each one, slinking up her body while she comes back down. “So, so beautiful.”

He thinks of new life, as his knee bends between her thighs and drags her open all over again. He thinks of the graveyard, where he had her freely beneath the stars, in the dirt where he woke centuries ago. He thinks he’d be happy to die again, this way, as he slides forward and buries himself inside her waiting heat.

Astarion grates out a long, low moan as he basks in the wrap of her arms and her cunt. Dimly, he feels her fingertips threading gently through his curls. He thinks of sunlight on his skin again as he sinks in fully, bracing his arms on either side of her head, letting his forehead tilt against hers. He can feel her pulse thrumming through her body, through his cock, through his fogged-over thoughts. His hips roll to the sound, as if it beckoned him to motion. Tav’s head drops back into the pillows. She lets out a long, contented hum, while her body rocks in time with his.

“Is this what you needed, darling?” He huffs a laugh, catching her lips in chaste kiss. It’s enough for her to taste her own sweetness. And one squeeze from her cunt is enough to cut his breath away all over again. 

“I think you needed me, too,” she purrs.

“Y-yes,” he stammers through bared teeth, his throat tied taut as she wrings him for all he’s worth. “Yes.”

She knows exactly what he needs, what he yearns for. He needs her, needs this, needs to see his seed seeping from her fucked-out hole, pink and puffy and leaking. He’ll know the rest of it was spent so deep inside her, her fertile womb is flooded. That’s his, too, with the rest of her. 

Hips high for me, beautiful, he’ll say, when his last thrust is done. And he’ll hold her legs up against his shoulders, kiss her heels, and slip the pillow beneath her pelvis. Just to be sure it takes. 

It’ll be another couple months before they’ll start to see the fruit of their efforts. Until Tav starts to bloom with it. And then, he’ll be hard pressed not to have his hands on her every hour. Cupping the fresh heft of her breasts as they grow with the passing days, heavy from him, for the babe growing in her belly. He’ll soothe her weepy eyes and tits alike, with a skilled tongue and sweet whisper. Rub her shoulders to ease the new weight her bones carry. Draw his nose down her neck and smell not just her, but himself, and the consequences of what they did, right here in this bed.

Feel her change beneath his hands and feel so fucking proud to be the reason.

Pleasure winds, binding, around his cock, and he feels that hunger snap its jaws around him all over again. His hips snap with it, jerking frantically. I need you, all of you, he thinks, and if he weren’t already fucking her, he’d be on his knees, begging for all he’s worth. Her cunt quivers, and he’s lost to the grip of her. Astarion shoves his own knuckles in his mouth to stifle a strangled cry. 

“Star?”

Astarion rips awake in a sweat. He sees familiar wooden beams above his head, above his bed. Sunlight streaks the floorboards, leaking from behind the curtains. Turning his cheek, he finds his lover peering at him from over her shoulder, concern wrinkling her face. Tav still lays on her side, and Astarion still presses against her back. But his hand clamps tight to her thigh, bare where he hiked up her tunic. And his cock twitches fitfully against her ass, unspent and painfully hard. 

Just a dream, then. For now, at least. 

He lets out a long, weary sigh, slumping back into the sheets. Tav tilts her head, the worry in her gaze gradually dissolving into a mischievous gleam.

“I thought you might--” she starts, snickering, “but you were having sweet dreams, weren’t you?”

“The best I’ve ever had,” Astarion mutters mournfully as he buries his face in his pillow. “You were there, of course.” 

Astarion rarely sleeps anymore. It’s not normal, not natural for an elf. But it was a trick he taught to dodge Cazador’s torment at least for a few hours a day. Reverie used to mean putting the horrors on repeat. He’d slowly eased from the habit, now that he has new memories worth seeing a second, third, or hundredth time. 

Still, occasionally, he drifts to sleep without meaning to. Sometimes, he wanders off into novel nightmares. Or, if he’s lucky, he dreams of making love to his wife and making her pregnant. Of making their own little dhampir.

His hips shift, and he hisses. Pre-cum seeps from the head of his cock, slickening the shaft. It’s not enough. Not after such a succulent fantasy. But one touch from his darling might have him sated, if not entirely satisfied. Pleasure stabs, sharp, through his groin as she shifts and brushes him with her motion. He grimaces. 

Just one touch alone could do it.

“I’m here now,” she smirks, twisting to face him. Her hand slips down between them. Mercy, he thinks, as her fingers wrap his length. He thrusts into her palm with a pleading whimper. “Tell me all about these dreams of yours.”

A/N: If you're yelling "Let him breed!!" at the screen just know I'm right there with you holding a megaphone about it 💜

If there's interest (from others & myself) perhaps there might be a part two where Tav takes matters into her own hands. Makes him say exactly what he wants, if he wants to have it so bad 👀

If you'd like me to add you to a tag list for future one-shots, or all of my future BG3 fic (including multi-chapters), leave me a comment and let me know which you'd like!

& HUGE thank you to some lovely Discord and Tumblr friends/moots who cheered me on as I worked on this one! 💜

Tag List: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

Banner credit to @cafekitsune

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #tavstarion #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion breeding #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x f!tav #f!tav x astarion #my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate

[bisexualiteaa]

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #sole survivor #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #asks

[foreingersgod]

could you write something about attending Caitlins game and sitting courtside and her dedicating each shot to you

All For You . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin dedicates all her shots to you <3

you’ve always attended your girlfriends games, only missing a rare few. watching her out on the court in her element made you feel so proud, you wouldn’t miss that feeling for the world. you constantly reminded her how amazing she was, on and off the court. that she was the most amazing player you’ve ever seen.

and she’d blush, hiding her face in your neck all while thanking you for coming to the game. ‘as if i’d voluntarily miss it’ you’d reply. she would tell you how much it actually meant to her, that you’d show up every time. just for her.

“i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you” is what she’d say, pressed up against you in bed after each game, running her fingers up and down your supple skin. “i hope you know that”

you’d shake your head, telling her no. because, to you, it was all her. the endless practices, the meltdowns of frustration that motivated her to keep going. that was all her doing, you were just here to support her.

caitlin understood that, yes, she’s put in a lot of hard work. but she couldn’t figure out why you would think you didn’t play a part in all this. if you weren’t there court-side every night, if you didn’t calm her down when she was frustrated, if you didn’t clean her up and nurse her back to health when she pushed it too far? she wouldn’t have all these titles and awards nor all the praise and attention.

so she took it upon herself to make you understand how much you truly have done for her.

she pledged to herself that every shot she took from this point forward, was devoted to you. caitlin had always kept you in mind when she scored, but every shot to her was just to get ahead. in reality, she discovered, she was really shooting for you. and she needed to show you that. you needed to understand that you were always on her mind, whether that be outside of the court or not.

it was a friday night, iowa was playing against lsu, and you were getting ready to leave the apartment. caitlin had left earlier in the afternoon for practice and warmups, and you let her know you’d be rooting for her somewhere in the crowd, just like you always did.

before you could make it to your front door, hands not even on the handle, your phone vibrated. pulling the phone out of your back pocket, a text from caitlin caught your eye.

cait <3: keep your eyes on me tonight, ok? want you to see something.

your brows furrowed slightly in confusion. what was she planning?

you: i always do, what are you up to this time?

cait <3: just trust me ;)

you chuckled to yourself, she was trouble.

you quickly realized you were late after being momentarily distracted by your girlfriend. snatching your bag and shoving your phone back into its pocket, you were out the door and headed to the arena.

they were just beginning introductions for the teams as you made your way to your seat. close enough to the floor that you could be easily spotted by your girl, but enough back that you weren’t front and center. the lights to the arena dimmed, colorful lights flashing and speakers booming as they called your girlfriends name. you watched as she stood from her seat and waltzed out onto the floor. she was glowing, hearing how her fans chanted her name as she hyped up the crowd. it warmed your heart to see her this happy.

before you knew it, the game was starting up. sneakers squeaked against polished wood as the girls defended the ball against lsu. they attempted a shot, missing it as caitlin rebounded the ball. she was slick on the court, gliding right past the opponents, dribbling the ball with ease. your eyes never left her figure like you were told.

you watched as she made it across the court. an lsu player, you have to admit, was doing an incredible job guarding her. but caitlin did what she does best. taking a large step back, almost to half court, caitlin took a deep shot against her defender. the entire crowd watched as the ball flew in the air, swishing straight through the net effortlessly. everyone erupted with chanting and applause, she was remarkable.

after her shot drained into the hoop, she turned to where you sat in the audience. you watched her closely, still clapping for her. she found you in an instant, locking eyes with you. she smiled and raised her hands, forming a heart with her fingers. she held in close to her chest then pointed to you, indicating that she made the shot for you. she mouthed a quick ‘for you’ to you up in the stands before catching up to her team on the other side of the arena. a flustered smile spread across your face as you watched her.

just when you thought she couldn’t get any better as a girlfriend or an athlete in general, here she was, dedicating shots to you.

as the game progressed and as iowa held onto a massive lead, caitlin kept blowing everyone away with her incredible shots. and each time, when the ball went through the net, caitlin isolated you from the crowd to make the same heart gesture. it was like clockwork and you’ll be honest, you never got tired of it. it made your heart swell to think that she was making those shots just for you.

once the clock buzzed and the game ended, you waited for the crowd to fizzle out before making your way down to the locker room. after each game you would wait on a small bench in the hall just outside and wait for caitlin to meet you. this night was no exception. you were perched on the bench, legs bouncing with anticipation to see your girl.

minutes went by until you heard the doors open with a click. your head snapped in its direction to see caitlin meandering over to you, an exhausted smile on her face.

“baby!” you cheered, running over to her and hugging her tightly “you were amazing as always, i’m so so so proud of you, cait!”

you pulled away from the hug and looked up to take in her appearance. she always looked so beautiful to you, no matter the sweat or grime or exhaustion. she was a work of art.

“thanks, babe” she leaned down to place a sweet kiss upon your lips.

“always” you pulled her in deeper as your arms draped around the back of her neck.

“how’d you like my new signature move?” you could feel her smile as she mumbled against your lips.

“oh my god” you laughed “i loved it, cait you definitely don’t have to do that for me!”

“the hell i don’t” she teased “i say it time and time again, you’re the reason i’m where i’m at today. the least i could do is dedicate my shots to you. it’s all for you.”

you could probably cry right there. the fact that she thought so highly of you, just for being her support, made you feel so special. caitlin had to be the most selfless person you’d ever met.

“i’m so lucky to have you” you said, hands falling down to her biceps where they gave a gentle squeeze “i love you so much, cait”

“i love you too” she replied “thank you for being with me through all this, i’m the one who’s lucky”

that night, you followed tradition. caitlin pressed up against you, the warmth of her skin soaking into your bare back. sheets draped over the two of you and your legs intertwined. her fingers skimmed over your arm, making you shiver. she whispered against the shell of your ear how much she loved you and reminding you once again that she wouldn’t be here without you. and while you still believed she didn’t give herself enough credit, you couldn’t help but smile when she reminded you just how much she loves you.

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #foreingersgod

[luveline]

Hellooo!! I saw your requests were open so I thought I'd ask if you could do singer/guitarist reader who fucked up on a gig (totally not self projecting here) and she like forgot some lyrics and stuff and she's just really upset and poly!marauders or really any of them comfort her

If not I totally get it and no worries!!

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1k

The best part about having more than one boyfriend is that one of them is bound to be good at something if the others aren’t. So while Remus can’t usually lift heavy things and Sirius doesn’t want to, James is more than happy to help your band pack up their things at the end of the night. 

It also helps that he’s a bit of a fanboy about it. He might jokingly ask you for your autograph from time to time, but he genuinely likes talking to your bandmates about the songs you play and the equipment. You can hear him talking someone’s ear off as the other boys in the band huff and puff as they lift the amps into the back of the van. 

“Why are you all silent?” Sirius asks, blowing a breath into your ear.

It’s not a very Sirius question. He sounds teasing, and his hand is playful as he pulls you into his side against the hood of his car, eyes on Remus where he chats across the car park to a friend. 

You look up into his face. “M’not.” 

“Ah, forgive me. I must be going deaf.” 

You press your cheek to his shoulder. “You are. Hope that helps.” 

“Of course it does.” 

He hooks your shirt with his pinky and slides his hand onto bare skin, scratching at your tummy and ribs with short nails. “You don’t want to tell me?” 

You turn further into him, hiding from his nagging questions, though you answer, because he’ll only find a way to drag it from you, and because you’d desperately like some reassurance. “I messed up really badly tonight. I ruined the set.” 

“You didn’t ruin the set. You did mess up, but really badly is subjective.” Sirius looks down at you on his shoulder, his breath warming your skin, strands of his hair falling onto your face softly, you’re that close. “Everyone messes up,” he murmurs, “doesn’t mean you ruined it.” 

Remus’ voice carries from a few feet away, “Where’s James?” 

“He’s still helping. Our poor angel can’t use her arms, it seems.” 

You and Remus wrinkle your noses simultaneously. “Her arms are fine,” he says. 

“James offered,” you butt in. 

“I’m joking,” Sirius says, touching his nose to your face, drawing a soft line before pulling away. He leans back casually. “It’s what people tend to do when their partners are upset.” 

You needle him with your arm. “Dick.” 

“You’re upset?” Remus asks. 

That’s exactly why Sirius is a dick. You step away from his arm in time for Remus to stop in front of you and look you over in concern. “What’s the matter?” Remus asks. 

“She’s embarrassed about forgetting the words earlier,” Sirius answers immediately. 

You glare at him. He lays back against the car with an arm behind his head, grinning. Makes sense for him to be sweet and kiss you like that just to chuck you into the deep end. 

“I didn’t want to say,” you mumble. 

Remus sidles up to you, and he’s taking the same stance as Sirius, a teasing lightness that colours his smile as he wraps his arms around you. These boys are always hugging you. 

“I don’t care if you want to say,” he murmurs, “you must tell me.” His hands clasp behind your back. “I won’t be left out.” 

His face works into your neck, breath warms and tickles your skin. 

He gives a scratch of kiss before he yanks away to meet your eyes. “Come on.” 

“Messed up. Everyone saw. Set ruined.” 

“Oh, oh,” he murmurs, “is that what you think happened?” 

“Don’t be a liar,” you say. 

“You forgot the words to one song. Everybody still had a good time, you looked amazing up there.” Remus leans far from you with his arms still braced behind your back, laughing as he says, “You were nearly perfect, and next time you’ll remember the embarrassment you’re feeling now and you won't forget the words.” 

He kisses your cheek.

“Can we not tell James?” you ask. 

“We have to.” 

“I know.” 

James is back sooner than you anticipated with a grin, the curls of his hair still perfect with pomade, not a drop of sweat on him. To your surprise, he doesn’t need to be told. “Oh, my girl,” he says proudly, jabbing your stomach with fake blows, “you did great! You only messed up one song!” 

Remus winces, but you think perhaps James’ way of looking at it is best of all. You could’ve messed up every song you performed tonight but it was just one.

“You’re amazing,” he furthers, taking your face into both hands. “Fuck, you look amazing when you’re up there with your guitar like that. I had a dream once we were in a band together. Remus got all handsy with you–”

“Are you sure you’ve got the right man?” Sirius asks, letting Remus pull him up from the hood.

“It might’ve been me,” James concedes. “I know it’s not like me to ask for something back, but I did all that heavy lifting for you shortcake, and I’m dying for an encore.” 

You’re not sure if he’s asking for something more than a show, your cheek turning hot in his hold. He encourages your face to his, his nose tapping yours up for a long, slow moving kiss, at odds with his flirtations but not his touches. His hands drag sluggishly down to your shoulders, the breath he takes on your lips like a happy sigh. 

“Get off of her, pervert,” Sirius says, jostling you both apart. “We’re in public.” 

“It’s just a kiss. I’m very proud of her, Sirius. She deserves a good kiss.” 

You fluster in his hands. 

#the marauders #marauders #poly marauders #poly!marauders #poly marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #james potter fanfiction #remus lupin fic #sirius black fic #james potter fic #the marauders x reader #the marauders x fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter

[erwinsvow]

imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol

you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.

"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."

you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.

hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.

the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.

you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.

you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.

footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.

you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.

"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.

heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.

when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.

"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.

you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.

#i actually dont like writing much angst so sorry if this sucks #this ask has been here for so long and i knew i could do something with it i just couldnt place it yet #<3 i love u jj #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[sincerelyrki]

everyone should know

your boyfriend couldn’t just sit around and watch another man shamelessly flirt with you. he had to do something, even if it meant revealing your relationship.

pairing : idol!secretbf!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings + genre : suggestive themes. secret relationship. jealousy. reader is said to have hair long enough to braid.

wc : 626

a/n : i struggle with writing drabbles but i hope this one turned out alright <3 i’m trying to update (almost) everyday whether it be a new miniskirt chapter or a oneshot (tmr it will be a miniskirt update, promise)

perm written taglist : @vousty

Sunghoon’s unmoving glare seemed to have no effect on his eldest member, his attention drawn to you like a moth. 

A flirty smile sat on Heeseung’s lips the entire time the two of you conversed, knees bumping as your body was bent toward each other.

The entire dinner Sunghoon had to listen to your cute giggles, watching as you playfully knocked your shoulders against the man sitting directly beside you.

He struggled with restraining himself, his legs almost shaking the entire table as they unrelentlessly bounced. 

His hands were in no better condition, knuckles ghostly white as he clutched his utensils tight in his palms. 

“Your hair is so pretty, did you braid it yourself?” The second Heeseung’s hand gently tugged on one of your braids, Sunghoon snapped.

The entire table flinched in shock as Sunghoon’s fork came slamming down, his plate chattering due to the force that suddenly came down around it.

Sunghoon rounded the table, his fingers wrapping around Heeseung’s wrist as he pulled his hand away from you.

 “I did it.” He declared a little bit too loud, looks getting thrown your way from the staff sitting around the neighbouring tables. 

Heeseung raised his hands in retreat, eyebrows raised as he matched Sunghoon’s look. “It looks good, but I think I could’ve done better.”

He gave you one more glance, winking at you as he finished his sentence, “much better.”

Everyone shared a look, their legs pushing their chairs out as they prepared to jump in between the two males before they could begin fighting in front of their entire staff.

“Oh really?” Sunghoon mused, head tilting to the side as he pretended to think about the possibility of Heeseung’s words being true.

Heeseung confidently nodded his head, his hands lowering to cross across his chest, his chin held high as he looked up at the two of you. 

Sunghoon moved his head to face you, his hand coming up to trace along one of the braids. “Now that you mention it, she was moving quite a lot.” 

Your jaw dropped at Sunghoon’s obvious innuendo, heat rushing throughout your body as everyone seemed to understand what he was referring to.

Sunghoon didn’t wait to see Heeseung’s response, turning his back to him as he gently entwined your hands. 

He led you back to his seat, his hand never leaving yours as he once again sat down.

He spread his legs, his knees separating as he slid his hips lower down the chair. “Sit,” He patted his thigh once, his hand tugging against yours as he pulled you forward.

Sunghoon helped you sit across him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tugged your back taut against his chest. 

“Isn’t it so much more comfortable over here?” Sunghoon purposely breathed down your neck, his cocky smile growing as he felt your body shiver. 

“I guess he hasn’t realized that you’re my girl yet, I think we need to make it a little more…” He trailed off, his hands tightening around your waist before he began placing small pecks along the base of your neck, “obvious.”

“No one knew, they wouldn’t have sat me beside someone else if they did.” You almost started defending your close friend but automatically backtracked after realizing how angry Sunghoon was.

“That’s the problem, everyone should know.” 

“Should they?” Sunghoon knew you were just teasing him at this point, riling him up for your amusement. But he still took your words seriously, imagining the look on Heeseung’s face after he finds out about the sincerity of your relationship.

“They’ll all know by tonight.” 

It was safe to say that they all knew about the two of you by the time the sun set, Heeseung getting the hint right away.

#sincerelyrki #sincerelyrki : one shots #enhypen scenarios #kpop scenarios #enhypen drabbles #sunghoon drabbles #park sunghoon #enhypen suggestive oneshot #one shot #enha oneshots #park sunghoon oneshot #enhypen oneshots #kpop oneshots #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen park sunghoon #sunghoon fics #boyfriend sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x female reader #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x you #park sunghoon drabble #sunghoon #enha drabbles #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha x you #enha park sunghoon

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ NEVER HAVE I EVER, OKKOTSU YŪTA

a party with your boyfriend isn’t something you expected to turn so sour. but maybe that’s because you didn’t expect your past relationships to start coming out.. or for one of them to be sitting in the room with you.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. exhibitonism. alcohol mention. jealousy / possessiveness. toxic relationships. never have i ever. talk of past relationships. wc, 9.2k.

note. another repost for the series :)

the air is warm around you as you sway in the living room, surrounded by intoxicated friends and strangers with red plastic cups in their hands and loud music blasting through the halls of the house.

you’d sat your empty drink down a while ago and hadn’t had a moment to refill for yourself yet, so instead you stay empty handed— although you feel pretty much occupied in your company.

you’re here with your boyfriend, yuuta, and his friends as you stand around with a few of the other people you’re not sure you recognise from his class. but you listen politely, not really absorbing the information as you let your eyes wander the room. although you’re quickly brought back with the press of cold fingertips beneath the hem of your t-shirt, before it’s accompanied by a slow breath exhaled against your throat from behind.

your boyfriend was always particularly clingy in these sort of environments, attached to your side like an extra limb or at this moment, wrapped around you from behind— much like the blanket you’d tuck yourself under every night. the only difference being you’re not comfortable in your own bed and your boyfriend, yuuta, had a certain aura, an energy about him. it was the sort of chill that made goosebumps burst along someone’s skin whenever they’d lock eyes with him across the room, the kind that urged people to look away before that happened — to avoid looking at you before he caught them.

it was like a curse of sorts.

“are you okay?” yuuta asks gently as you feel the cool brush of his fingertips brush higher, smoothing along your waist, his touch is cold as always but it soothes the warm press of your own skin as he leans forward. you feel his lips smear across your cheek as he speaks, almost a kiss — like he’s asking, hoping for one.

“mhm, ‘m good,” you turn to meet him, shuddering beneath the heat of his gaze despite the way warm was never really a word that came to mind whenever you looked at him. haunting, chilling, even unsettling maybe— but the type of look that made you not want to look away. like when the naive, pretty girl in the slasher movie thinks it’s a better idea to go towards the source of a sound in her usually empty, dark apartment than leave entirely.. to safety.

if only you knew those seconds, half-seconds that the line of your gaze connected with his, were the only moments in the day that he felt anything at all.

“are you tired? we can leave if you want,” yuuta asks, almost expectantly, hoping you’d take him up on the offer to lock you back up in his apartment, all for him, away from prying eyes of drunken party goers— away from everyone else if you’d let him. he waits for your answer before he kisses you once and you always thought it was a little unexpected how touchy he could be in public, considering how apologetic and awkward he seemed when you first met.

as always, you feel yourself melt into the press of his lips, into the confidence he always kissed you with despite his demeanour and you’re suddenly warm beneath your collar as his fingers press higher— urging you closer as his tongue swipes along your lips. but before you can continue, to go further— you pull away, maybe a little too aware of the amount of eyes around you despite the way your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all,

“i’m okay, i’m having fun.” you feel his fingers squeeze tighter as you answer but he smiles,

“are you sure? we can—“

“sheesh, i haven’t seen you guys in forever. where the hell you been, hah?” your conversation is cut off by the slur of a familiar voice as it barrels towards you both through the crowds, urging their way between you so they can throw their arms across your shoulders, an arm for each as yuuta begrudgingly breaks away to stand at the other side.

“maki!” you giggle as your friend uses you to keep herself steady— both of you mostly held up by yuuta strength alone. “we’ve both been busy, yuuta’s especially—“

your words are meant innocently, more of a factual response rather than something somber but that alone seems to ignite the fiery spirit of your friend when she’s groaning as it slips off your tongue. suddenly she’s turning to your boyfriend with a tight frown on her features, an expression that he’d grown familiar to seeing— but it’s one he still manages to meet with a smile.

“oh yeah? i hope you’re taking care of my girl, yuuta.” maki growls and you watch the way he scratches at the back of his neck, the exchange reminds you of the stories she used to tell you about the first time they met in their second year. before he was able to stand on his own.

“huh?! i am, i am!” his voice is almost boyish as he responds and you find yourself smiling at the way yuuta seems to relax around people like maki and his other former classmates. you very rarely seen him interact with other people at all when you were together, it normally just being you two— by his choice, because he always said he didn’t like other people taking away his time with you. but you think it’s charming, the relationship he has with his friends and the way they playfully jab and tease him in a way that makes you giggle.

maki ruffles at his hair as she tsks and you think it’s amusing the way yuuta’s eyes are back on you when he notices the way you’re grinning. “you remember what you were like before i took you under my wing, i’m trustin’ you to protect her!” you’re pretty sure he could easily dodge her playful smacks against his chest, especially given the way the alcohol has probably impacted her precision. but you also think it’s nice that he chooses not to, watching him chuckle, maybe a little embarrassed at her words as he waves her off.

“come on, maki.. you know id kill anyone to protect the one i love,” yuuta’s blushing slightly but there’s no uncertainty in his words, instead it’s like you can hear the pure devotion that’s wrapped and woven itself around every syllable when it’s accompanied by the unwavering cut of his gaze.

but still, it doesn’t make maki falter the way it might anybody else— instead she shrugs as her arms unwind from you both to cross her chest. “yeah, yeah. i’ll leave you lovebirds, third wheeling ain’t my thing..” she groans again before she whips around to stumble backwards slightly— balanced again by your boyfriends quick reflexes as he steadies her with one hand. his free hand finds its place at your lower back as he takes a step closer to you again.

“you remember what i said, yuuta! take care of her or else,” you’re laughing, grateful to be able to have someone like maki in your life despite people who may find her to be a little rough around the edges. she was one of the best people you could have with you, you think. she offers you both a smug grin, thumb pointing against her chest as she backs into the crowd, “i’ll be the one to kill you if ya don’t!”

yuuta chuckles quietly as you both wave her off, watching her push her way through the wave of warm bodies that block her path so easily— with a power that was so uniquely maki.

another breath and he’s back on you, just the same as he was before as his body looms into you— draping over you like a shadow as his lips reach forward to smear along your cheeks again. just like before, you turn to meet him— twisting into another kiss that he meets so eagerly, greedily and you rasp softly as he traces across your skin with his finger. he was good at that sort of affection despite how binding it seemed.

“i..i mean it.” yuuta’s words are muffled slightly against your lips, almost drowned out by the music but they’re still so clear to you when they echo in his voice. although they urge you to pull away as you give him a naive blink,

“mean what?”

“what i said.” he answers quickly, like he’s desperate to get back to where you left off, “i’d kill for the one i love,” it’s almost misplaced, the kind smile on his features and the way his eyes soften slightly despite the way something cursed twists in his gaze— his words are spoken like a promise. it makes you feel suddenly cold despite the warm proximity and the stuffy room, too many bodies squeezed together but you catch a chill as you look up at your boyfriend over your shoulder.

“you say that but, isn’t that a little dramatic?” you turn in his hold, blinking up at him as your palms press flat into his chest and yuuta looks at you— intently, all adoring as his own hands loop around your waist to squeeze.

“no,” his voice sounds lower as he answers, chest pressed against yours and you wonder if he can feel the way his answer makes your heart jump slightly, maybe that’s why he clears his throat awkwardly as your gaze holds his. “n-no i don’t think so, because it’s for our love.” his tone feels unsteadier now, like when someone is quickly trying to explain a point, their views, before somebody can interrupt— he needs you to hear him justify his devotion.

“i don’t want you stolen from me, i dont want anyone else to take you away from me. so i’d kill them, so you’re happy with me.. forever.” yuuta’s arms squeeze tighter around you as he speaks, like he’s scared you’re going to break away, although something in your mind tells you that wouldn’t be possible even if you tried. still, he’s smiling— that same warm look that he’d greeted you with the first time you’d met in the supermarket. “that’s why, i’d kill them. i’d do it for you. for us.” the words roll from his lips so easily, like he’s convinced if they’re said in his soft, kind tone— meant with pure love, that it would take away the threatening effect,

despite the way it would make any normal person's blood run cold at the promise.

something tugs at the corner of your lips at the way you don’t take him seriously, your tone a resonant pull as your palms press into his chest through his shirt, “nobody is going to take me away from you, yuu.” he can feel the warmth of your hands on his skin despite the layer between you both.

“i know. i wouldnt let them.” yuuta leans in again, to steal another kiss— to take what’s rightfully his but you don’t twist and curl into him like you normally do. you pull away, and all he can feel is the coolness against his chest where your fingers had been before you tug him towards the couch, pushed into the corner of the room.

“let’s take a seat.”

the next few hours at the party pass by fairly quickly and your boyfriend is closer than ever to you as your thighs rest over his own, his fingers fidgeting and pressing into your skin between kisses and staggered breaths. it makes you feel like a teenager again, steamy makeout sessions on the couch at a party between giggles, but you feel more comfortable now— leaning into him, hidden away in the corner rather than stood in the middle of the room as his tongue binds with yours.

every kiss with yuuta felt messy but purposeful, his hold on you was strong and his mouth was hot— pressing into you, pushing his name between your lips as his cold fingers hook around the back of your neck to squeeze and you melt, everytime he does it, with every exhale he breathes into you.

you’re so lost in eachother you barely notice the way the seats surrounding you begin to fill up quickly, the drunken party-goers lured into the living room as panda and maki act as ring leaders. the booming sound of their voices draws back you and your boyfriends attention, although his eyes remain on you.

you listen intently, albeit a little kiss drunk and drowsy as you press into yuuta— you hear the never have i ever name being dropped and you know immediately what’s happening, finding a giddy smile pulling at your lips at the nostalgia that follows along with the title. you’re familiar with it ofcourse, familiar with the giggles and secrets that the game always seemed to spill— it reminded you of younger times, but you think it’ll be exciting now as maki gives you a wink before pushing the half-full beer in her hand in your direction.

“come on, you’re playing right? can’t do it empty-handed.” she falls down on the other side of the couch next to you as panda stays in his place in the middle of the floor. you feel yuuta nose at your cheek as he explains the rules, urging you for another kiss— to turn back now that he’s acquired an even bigger audience to claim you infront of. but you don’t budge, so he relents as his fingers squeeze at your waist.

“are you playing? i thought you’d want to go home instead, it’s late.” he tries again, another last ditch effort to get you home as it goes over your head. he accompanies the question with the captivating pull of his hands as he squeezes at you from where you’re almost sat on his lap.

another press of his lips and you’re smiling, “yeah, i love this game! you’ve never played?” you reply like it’s obvious and you don’t see the flash of disappointment flash across yuuta’s features because he smiles too. he leans into you slightly,

“w-what are the rules?” suddenly he’s more than eager, albeit in his own awkward way. it’s only normal for your boyfriend to want to know everything about your other loves— apart from him ofcourse. his eyes are on you as you as he asks, gazing up at you like he’s mapping out your features. like he hasn’t memorised them already.

“listen, panda’s explaining them.” and yuuta does, he listens to the game rules while his hands squeeze into your skin, he misses the taste of your lips already— wishes he could have them again. the rules are simple to follow, but he thinks maybe it’ll be his chance to let everyone see the things you both have done together— all of the different ways he’s claimed you, taken you as his own over and over again.

“ah, i don’t have a drink.”

“we can share.” you say it so softly, without hesitation and it makes him feel warm— drawing him in until he’s kissing once at the corner of your lips and squeezing you even closer into his side as he knocks his forehead against your temple softly.

“okay.”

the game starts out innocently enough; never have i ever told a lie, snuck out of my house— but then as you expect, as always it morphs into something a little spicier; never have i ever fucked someone in my childhood bed, fucked on a boat, eaten whipped cream from someone else’s bodyand with every question, every press of your lips to the beer as you take a drink, you feel yuuta fidget uncomfortably at your side as his gaze cuts into you.

he doesn’t remember this, because it wasn’t him on the other side of these experiences— looking down at you as you lapped at the cream on his body or wrapped up in the comforter of your childhood bed. it should’ve been him, he should’ve been the only one to touch you, to feel you, it wasn’t fair that people have taken what’s his— that they’d taken advantage of you, knowing he wasn’t there to protect you. it wasn’t fair. it hurts. why won’t you look at him.

his hands ball so tightly you can see the tendons, even in the low light. the keen edge of his jealousy was like flint, a spark away from fire.

“baby? we didn’t do that.” the words were expressionless, they carried no hint of anything you could read. you know you hadn’t went over your past relationships with eachother. but he’s looking at you like you’ve burned him, betrayed him as his words hiss from between his teeth— just loud enough to be spoken to you only when you finally turn to meet him. his gaze feels empty, but he blinks up at you like he’s begging you to put him at ease— you’re lying, right?

to yuuta, you were his everything— his only, was it wrong for him to expect the same level of respect, of loyalty from you? hadnt you been waiting for him to find you, to loveyou. it’s cruel, that’s why he’d told you— he’d promised to kill anyone who’d try to break you apart, he should’ve warned you that the promise extends even more to the people who’ve seen, felt you before him. who’ve stolen what’s rightfully his.

“oh, never have i ever hooked up in gojo-sensei’s classroom?” you shift at that, yuuta feels it— picks up on the way it’s accompanied by the same reaction from the other side of the room and his low-lidded gaze, his instincts follow that movement until it locks on its owner.

kamo noritoshi, they were in the same year at school— albeit noritoshi attended the kyoto campus but they’d met a few times. normally at the good-will festival — yuuta had never found him to be too impressive, the years that he’d participated he remembers beating him, single-handedly— if you could call it that. maybe he should’ve hit him harder, had you already met before that day? because now he’s looking at you, looking at what’s his with such a heat in his gaze that makes something boil dangerously beneath his skin.

suddenly, there was an ache in him, like a rotted tooth. but this doesn’t mean anything not yet, so yuuta presses closer— his eyes are back on you and he watches you, like he’s waiting. like he’s hoping, you wouldn’t hurt him like that, right? 

you feel your cheeks burn significantly when your hand twitches, almost in sync with noritoshi’s at the other end of the room as you go to knock back the remaining liquid at the bottom of your cup. it earns you a few hoots and whistles from the surrounding ex-students, your friends— but just as you feel the plastic cup press to your lips, your movement goes no further before it’s stopped by a cool, tight press of something that wraps around your wrist. almost like a plea.

“please, don’t.” your pulse jumps, for a reason that you don’t know when you turn to the source of the voice, the source of the vice grip that’s coiled it’s way around your hand. yuuta has looked at you a thousand times, but theres something different in his gaze, an intensity that you’re not familiar with. your mouth feels dry and you can hear the sound of your throat as you swallow.

“it’s not fair.” his voice was cool, but you see his jaw tighten, just a little. “you didn’t tell me.”

his face twists and almost, you think you see anger and your nerves seem like they sing with the danger of it. you almost reach for him, to soothe him, to reassure him before it can go further but your fingers rest in the air where they reach with his next look. instead, yuuta rises, giving the room a sorry smile before he’s excusing himself—

“ah, sorry— i gotta go to the bathroom.” something tugs at you with his words, just beneath your skin.

“hah? what the hell?” maki calls after him and noritoshi is looking at you both now despite the way your boyfriend pushes into the hallway suddenly. he can sense the shift in the atmosphere and you notice the uncomfortable shift in his form as he seems to sink deeper into the couch. you feel warm under your clothes suddenly, embarrassed— guilty? you’re not sure, but it’s almost immediate the way you find your body pushing up to follow.

you’re driven by the obedience, the love he’s knowingly buried into you.

“i’m gonna go check on him.” you echo a few seconds later, you’re deliberately avoiding the eyes at the other end of the room but you still manage to meet maki’s before you’re turning to leave. she gives you an almost knowing look despite the way her face stays neutral.

“hey!” panda calls but maki cuts him off as she groans, like she’s trying to save face.. for both your sake.

“agh, leave ‘em— get onto the next one, will ya!”

yuuta feels like he’s in a daze as he stalks down the hallway, he didn’t realise you’d known the kyoto students like that— known him like that without him even picking up on it. he’d let him live with those memories, he wonders if he still thinks about you? the press of your soft skin beneath his palms, how far had you gotten? what desk had you used? had he sat at it previously? studied at it? his chest rises and falls rapidly, like its trying to keep pace with his thoughts.

it’s like all of the work he’s done has been erased, your schedule he’s memorised— the people he’s steered from you, the relationships he’s ruined, not knowing that noritoshi was right there. knowing the face you make when your mind is thick with pleasure, was he able to satisfy you the way your boyfriend does? does he still remember how tight your walls squeeze as you cum?

the bathroom door closes behind him and yuuta breathes heavy as his forehead rests against the cool wood. he feels like he’s losing his mind, his progress, his facade. but he listens, he recognises the footsteps that sound a few seconds later and he smiles.

“yuuta?” your voice calls as you push yourself down the hallway, you hope he hasn’t left yet— the idea makes something pulse in your chest, something ache in the space between your ribs because you don’t see the signs, you’re blind to them when it comes to his love.

another step and you can still hear the party raging on in the room you just left, although the hallway is eerily quiet. the floorboards squeak as you go to pass the bathroom and suddenly— you’re moving, pulled forcefully into the room so quickly that you don’t even hear the door open and you go to scream, you almost do.

the movement is so fast it steals the air from you, takes it forcefully from your lungs and it’s almost instinctive the way your arms raise to push at his chest, to push him away. until you realise that the person stood across from you now, was the one you were looking for in the first place. but the door is slammed behind you and now it’s just you two in the stuffy party bathroom. you look at him, there’s something different looking back. you can barely speak.

“sorry, did that scare you?” there was something uneasy about the silence that settles between you both; like a held breath, like the rabbit beneath the hawks shadow and you can feel your pulse striking your skin. the deep blue of his eyes seem to seep into you, to fill your throat to choking. you couldn’t cry out even if you dared too.

“but you came. i knew you would” a tightness he hadn’t noticed was there in his chest— eased a little, he wouldn’t lose you yet. his voice is sweet despite the carnal look he’s giving you, his eyes seem darker in this lighting.

“i thought you left.” finally you speak and your voice rises warm and resonant, sweetly pure. would you have been upset if he did? you would’ve left with him though, wouldn’t you? not that he was ever too far away, not from you, not ever.

“not without you,” he steps forward and something burns hot in you, an impatience, a certainty. like he’s telling you he’s about to have exactly what he wants, you’re about to give it to him. but something in his demeanour makes you step back, to press yourself against the door until he’s over you— caging you there, claiming you like trapped prey. the heat rises up your neck, his fingers wrap over your face and you can smell nothing but him as he curls over you. the push of his lips seem only a second away from pressing into yours. “i’d never leave you.”

“yuuta, what was that back there?” your stomach trembles and a warm drop of pleasure spreads beneath your skin. why do you want more still? you press your palms against his chest.

“i beat him once.” you can’t move, watching. you almost don’t breathe. his face is calm and blank, not tensed with effort like the strain of his voice would suggest but then his words settle and the room grows quiet again despite the music through the door behind you. it feels stuffy, you’re trembling. are you scared? “at the good-will festival.”

he eyes you for a reaction, “did you love him?” the sudden swoop of your stomach, his unsettlingly quiet anger. you were like a fish eyeing the hook.

“yuuta ofcourse i didn’t.”

“baby, i didn’t like it,” your stomach rolls, awash with nerves and relief at once. you drink him in, there’s hurt in his gaze— his bangs fall slightly over his eyes when your own hold them. “i couldn’t think..” his teeth grit and he exhales before he continues, voice returning to something sweet. like his mask slipped, even if only for a moment. “i couldn’t think about you with him,”

“the way he was looking at you.” he goes on and you rasp softly as he draws his fingertips along your jaw before he squeezes, the press of the promise ring on his finger is cold,

“you’re mine. all of you. do you remember?” his voice was warm with desire, you feel it heat across your skin. the strength of your lust, the speed in which it flowers, shocks you. you can’t breathe now but you don’t struggle, any normal person would run— would be able to see the red flags, the warning signs that are so hard to miss but you don’t. not with yuuta, not when he’s staring at you— when he’s already caught you like a wolf with the rabbit's neck between his teeth. “that’s what you said. you promised.” he strokes you with his left hand and your hips lift to the touch, you pull him closer and you tremble.

“i’m yours,” your mouth opens underneath him and the warmth of his throat pours into yours. you couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but drink him in, each breath as it came, the needy movements of his lips before his tongue follows.

it’s desperate, messy— yuuta’s claiming you like a dog. the kiss is full of teeth as he grabs at you, presses you even tighter into the door behind you as his body pushes flush against your own until your lungs quiver.

he’d normally much prefer to take you home into the comfort of your own bedroom, so he can take his time with you— pull out as many orgasms as he wants, the ones he owns without interruption. but now, he wants the whole party to know who you belong to, who’s name you moan when you cum and cream and he’ll make sure the walls remember it too. everything he does, he does for you. can’t you see that?

“i-i’m sorry, i can’t wait.” yuuta groans, exhales warm against your lips and you grab at him, your hands are in his hair to pull and he drools into the kiss— sucking at your tongue and pressing his already hard cock against the intimate skin between your thighs. “i.. i need you, baby. please.. give me what’s mine.” his words are a hormone-drunken plea and you’re hooked, drinking them up intoxicatingly— you’d let him ruin you if he asked if that same kind tone. like he hasnt already, for anyone else that is.

“i want you, yuuta. c-cant wait either.” it’s a strong pull as he moves you, but not disorientating, yet you still feel your skin burn hot where his long fingers are pressing through the thin fabric of your clothes. the fabric feels like it moulds even closer to the shape of your figure—almost like there’s nothing between his palm and your skin. he turns you both, almost stumbling across the already small bathroom, but he keeps you upright, stepping back without breaking his lips from yours until you’re pressed against the ceramic sink on the counter in the corner.

“he needs to know,” yuuta pulls away to breath deep, his palms resting against your cheeks, drawing his fingertips along them as he looks at you. “i need to know. to know it’s love.”

“i love you, i love you more than anyone.” he hums and you gasp when he finally kisses you again, cutting off your sentence before it’s replaced with a breathless exhale and he takes the opportunity to dip his tongue past your lips, allowing it to glide along your own as he tastes you.

it’s almost desperate, the way you’re pulling him closer — giving into his thoughts, his own fogged mind, you found yuuta’s devotion to be charming especially when it was coated in pretty words and compliments. he had you bending to his will, playing the part of the perfect girlfriend that he knew you’d be. you only needed him to complete you, to push you in the right direction, to love you.

you feel a coiling pleasure that’s been building tighten delightfully and his hand squeezing your waist only makes it burn brighter. you whimper against his lips and the sound drives him closer, practically pinning you against the small countertop that holds the sink behind you both until it’s squeezing against the back of your thighs.

“you’re so pretty, so warm.” yuuta groans and the deep drone of his voice curls down your spine, you can’t pull yourself away from him—not that it was even a possibility, with the way his strong grip keeps you in your place against his chest. his palms explore the topography of your hips, down your waist and up your thighs from where he’s pinning you onto the surface beneath you. he’s grabbing at you, pulling at your bones like he’ll rip you from your skin— dig through to your heart to have you, to consume you, devour you entirely and bury his love in the deepest parts that remain.

“hurry, please—” you plead against his mouth, breathing heavy with him and he feels sticky at the words, spoken against his lips. he feels his cock twitch and thicken behind his pants, he’s leaking already— heart racing from your touch alone, the kisses aswell. his thumb squeezes into your skin before he’s licking into your mouth; burying soft groans into your throat like they’re honeyed secrets and he’s losing himself in the dizzy spin of the room.

“say it first, for me.” yuuta grunts, almost begs and the kiss breaks wet as he stands tall, taps on the back of your thighs to help hoist you up onto the counter top before you jump eagerly and he’s slotting himself between them. he presses into the heat between your thighs as he almost stutters deeper, he wants nothing more than to sink into you completely.

but his relaxed bangs fall messy over his eyes with his next exhale, low-lidded and convincing. the dark glint in his eyes almost has you in a trance. “i love you, yuuta. have all of me. take it.”

your fingers tangle in his hair once more and yuuta can’t help but continue kissing you when you give him what he wants, what he needs. the hem of your skirt slinks up with his wrists, slender digits squeezing at the fat and muscle it reveals as his hands stroke up your thighs, pushing your skirt up until your legs spread around him and his fingers are trailing closer to where he needs to be most.

it happens so fast, it’s so desperate when you feel him push your panties to the side messily and the first swipe of his finger between your folds is purposeful, but rushed. he drags the rough pad of his finger beneath the hood of your clit as he rolls the sensitive bud and you twitch, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt before the wet disconnect of his lips from yours has you whimpering softly.

the pretty sounds you make for him still make him burn.

“you’re so wet. so soft. d-does it feel good?“ yuuta hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, eagerly, like he knows what you’re gonna say before you even do— he does, because he knows you best, every part of you, every response and twitch. but you nod cutely and he keeps up the same pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, almost whimpering when he’s not met with much resistance.

his fingers are long and you hiss at the stretch but you feel something blissful flutter in your tummy when you watch him fall onto his knees between your thighs hungrily. “did he make you feel this good?” he shifts one over his shoulder as he keeps you spread, you know who he means when he gazes up at you from under his lashes. you shake your head almost frantically, panting, you can’t risk him stopping.

“its okay, i forgive you,” yuuta whispers and the words pour over your folds, “because it’s mine now. the sooner you forget about everyone else, the better. they’re not good for you, i’ll give you lots of love, i promise.” he angles his fingers inside of you up with angled purpose, like he’s showing off his knowledge of your body, of the reactions he can pull out of you so easily. but there’s some truth to his words now, he’d intentionally broken you that way— now even the press of your own fingers long to be replaced with his own.

he brushes them against the spongy spot inside of you until you’re slapping your palm over your pouty lips in a sorry attempt to muffle how needy you sound. but that won’t do, not when he’s got a point to prove— what’s histo claim, he needs everyone to hear it. who owns you, who loves you, who’d kill for you.

“don’t do that. i need to hear you, please.” yuuta’s warm breath rolls over your slick folds, it’s a second his eyes break from your own, transfixed and low-lidded with hunger as he watches his digits sink into you. until his head lowers and his tongue is curling against your clit before he’s dragging it back up, he’s watching you again when your lips part to moan and it makes his cock twitch.

it’s languid the way he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet heat, but he licks at the space between your folds like he’s starving— his movements thick with hunger and lust as he gives you another look. one that makes something sharp nip at your spine. you’re not embarrassed at how loud you’re being now because he told you it’s fine, it’s hisafterall— it’s what he wants, needs, so it would be rude of you to keep that from him, what’s his— when he’s being so good for you.

the pretty sounds from your lips curl against the small walls of the bathroom and you can still hear the deep bass, the giggles and laughs from the living room despite the lewd squelching from between your thighs, drowned out with yuuta’s slurps and smacks that are currently even louder. if someone were to pass by, they’d know what was going on— who it was considering the mantra of his name that you’re repeating like a prayer. like he’s your god despite the way he’s the one worshipping you.

he continues to sink his fingers into you, swirling tantalising circles into your clit with his tongue while his fingers drag more slick out, making a wet mess between your thighs as he laps it back up and buries his face into you with a loud swallow. every noise is so much messier than the one before, echoing from his chest while your hands grab and curl in the dark roots of his hair to pull. just how he likes, the pain makes his insides almost curl, tremble and shake. he needs more.

yuuta licks into your pussy and you almost choke on a babbled cry of his name as you shake against the counter top. you feel him flatten his tongue against your sensitive clit before he’s sucking it gently between his lips and suckling until butterflies pool in your stomach.

“who are you thinking of?” your pussy throbs around his fingers and he breathes a warm sigh across your skin. your eyes clench tight as your thighs quiver against the width of his shoulders and your head drops back as his dark gaze cuts up into you. you feel him drag his tongue in slow, thorough swirls over your clit as your hips rock side to side. like you’re chasing the friction, begging for him. your actions almost answer the question itself.

“you,” your head lolls forward, but your words don’t falter— your certainty makes something burst warm along the back of yuuta’s neck as he looks up at you. he couldn’t help it, he had to check— had to make sure that you weren’t thinking of someone else as your boyfriend fucked you. it should be only him, always.

“do you promise?” he asks again, just to be sure and you blink— head rolling back when he brushes his fingers against the gummy, sensitive spot inside of you and you squeeze, cry for him.

“yes! i p-promise,”

“that’s good. you’re close, i can feel it.” yuuta tells you, purrs against your folds as he works you with practiced precision. his eyes are still on you despite the way your hips twist under his touch but his body leaves you suddenly and he pulls away to break through the suddenly suffocating layers of his clothes.

“s-sorry, i need to feel you around me. i need it. all of it.” a ragged sound leaves you at his words, as he begs to feel you and it has you feeling drowsy and pliant despite the orgasm he’s ripped from you so cruelly. he quickly reveals the soft planes of his ivory skin, shoving his slacks down just enough for his cock to spring out and smear precum along the skin of your thighs as he draws closer.

yuuta really was gorgeous in his own way, dark hair messy where it falls over his face, his hand sweeping it back before he’s stepping forward and shooting you a lidded, almost sleepy look. it was like another side to him, one that he kept hidden away— like a body under the stairs or a secret. but he’s flushed to the tips of his ears despite the shadows that pool in the depth of his gaze, and you suddenly feel like you can’t get enough air with each breath.

his dark eyes pull like the tide, no matter how you swim against it.

“yuuta, i want to cum.” his smile grows, almost giddy and sweet with how much you want him— the way you rely on him to make you feel good. the way you purr his name and grab at his skin, is this how you act for him alone? but his whole body trembles when your fingers reach forward to wrap around the base of his cock, a plea— you’re beggingfor him and who is he to deny you of that.

he’s all you’ll ever need, this moment was proof enough. will you let him keep you all to himself? you’d make a pretty centrepiece in his bedroom— locked away in there forever.

“i know, baby. you need me for that, remember? i told you.” you won’t be able to love anyone but me. you feel yuuta grab you in a strong grip before he’s wrapping your thighs around his hips, but any other words are choked upon when the head of his cock finally finds your flexing cunt.

you both gasp as he sinks carefully up inside you, his hands squeezing and pulling your hips closer to his as your back arches. his cock sinks into you slowly despite the need in his movements, it’s like he’s savouring the sweet pull of your body and your cunt, like he’s being lured to his demise by a siren— a succubus. he’d follow you anywhere, he’d wait for you in hell. the length of him curves upwards and feels warm inside of you, gliding so sweetly past the spots along your walls that make your whole body twitch, your pussy tightening harder around him the deeper he goes.

“you’re always s-so tight.” yuuta’s cool fingers grope just a little too hard at your hips, dragging you along his cock as he forces your walls to spread open for him and he feels something ache deep in his stomach. his desire is heavy in each laboured breath he takes as he tries to keep a firm grip on his composure— albeit it seems to slip with every saccharine squeeze of your thighs and cunt around him. but his eyes remain on you. “always.” the squeeze is like his own little reminder that nobody has touched you since he did last either. he always liked to check. to be sure.

you can only reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when the weight of his hips finally rest against yours and he bottoms out. but you only seems to draw him closer, pulling him into you so he can drool and smear more kisses along your features— like the way a dog would appreciate its owner. mark you in his scent. cover you in it, he’d bury you between his ribs.

you’re both sweating hard but yuuta stills feels cold, his touch soothes your overheating skin and it lights a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better. “yuuta, please move!” he feels his toes and fingers curl when you bear down on him eagerly, greedy for it, eager for more of his love. the love that he’s more than willing to pour into you, even if you choke on it.

“s-sorry,” he finally pulls his hips back, dragging his cock out of you and your pussy squeezes down tight on him in response, like it’s trying to lure him back inside, keep him forever. you’re tightening around each inch you lose as his fingers dig bruises into your hips and he rolls them back into you, beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal.

he wants you louder, messier— all his.

a whimper leaves you when you feel yuuta’s head dip towards yours, his body leaning over you to smear a few more kisses along your jawline. he’s working your hips to meet the encouraging pull of his hands from where they’re messaging, squeezing your skin with his bruising grip and you drink it up eagerly.

the pace he’s sent isn’t fast, albeit not helped by the cramped space and the way he doesn’t want to hurt you, but the drive behind each thrust still remains— he’ll make love to you anywhere. always. he can’t be close enough to you, something in his bones wills him closer and he can’t look away— he wants your eyes on him, your heart in his hands, all of you bare. your soul. your entirety.

your body claps against yuuta’s as he kisses over your skin, teeth nipping at your neck hungrily, but determined to leave marks before his lips are gliding along the sensitive spots that have you twitching.

“y-you’re squeezing me, it feels so good. so p-perfect.” he looks at you again, emphasising his words with a few sharp thrusts, before his pace inevitably speeds up, he’s gripping so tight into your skin that he’ll surely leave bruises— he hopes he does. your hips press almost painfully into the cool countertop behind you but he’s bending your body like you’re clay between his palms. he can’t stop, you won’t let him.

“yuu— fuck, faster.“ you finally manage to respond, whispery and choked off, but you can’t deny the physical reaction you have to yuuta’s compliments, as always. your tight cunt bares down tight around him and you both gasp before his breaks off into something dreamier, his pace stuttering as follows it with a few slow, deep thrusts into your doughy pussy.

“i’d do anything for you.” he whispers, like a reminder smeared along your skin— he’d write it in blood if it would make you remember. “only for you.” and you bask in it, want to give back all that you can as he kisses along your face. he inhales the sweet familiar scent of your perfume that’s now mixed with his own scent and he feels something carnal boil in his stomach. “do you know that? everything is for y-you.” every twisted little scenario made to bring you closer. it’s all with your best interests in mind, to keep you with him.

yuuta repositions his feet and takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher, pounding into you mercilessly as he marks your skin as his—leaving blooming marks between soft kisses along your neck and jawline.

it was always intoxicating to see him like this, to feel him so unfiltered and hungry, digging orgasms out of you like he’s starving— his sexual prowess still catches you off guard, no matter how many times you’ve had him like this. the positions he’s put you in— the places he’s taken you. a groan kicks out of his chest when the harsh slap of his hips makes your thighs tighten around him, and you feel your own hips tremble, as do your lungs like you’re looking over the edge of a cliff. you’re almost blind with pleasure.

“s-so pretty, so pretty.” yuuta tells you, his praise dripping through your rocking body and down your spine and it feels like he ignites something in you— something twisted and dark. he makes your insides curl and ache as your lips drop open to moan his name and his own ragged breathing cools the spit over your ignited nerves. you’re past caring now— but he hopes they hear you. “i won’t let him touch you again. it’s not f-fair. you’re mine. i’d beat him again…. and again, and a-again.” he’s grunting, babbling, words lost and hidden between huffs of your name— pants as he breathes deep. you can barely hear him.

your nails dig into his forearms, pressing as you arch your chest against his own— pushing closer, heart to heart, “g-gonna cum—“ you gasp, lips parting in a pretty o-shape as pleasured tears gather at the corners of your thick lashes. his gaze falters for a moment, from you to your creaming pussy then back to you, and he feels like the breath is punched from his lungs at how pretty you look lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. as always. he’ll never tire of the sight of you— the smell, your touch. he’d recognise you even in darkness.

“look at me, on me, b-baby. please” yuuta’s words slur, scratchy and growly, letting his fingers trace along your sweat slicken skin to roll your puffy clit as he continues to pound against the right spot inside of you. the ones he’s memorised, that only he knows. nobody else would have you like this, so fucked-out, so pliant. you listen, you blink up at him— gaze cloudy beneath your lashes but you’re looking at him and it makes his chest squeeze, burn.

you’re more than eager to give yourself up to him completely after a few more clapping thrusts, arching your back as you whine long and wordless for him. the hot rush of bliss and warmth settles over your skin when you cum, the fluttering press of your pussy throwing you into an orgasm so intense you see white behind your eyes.

“i love y-you, i love you.” yuuta purrs, his cock flexing and it doesn’t take him long before he’s giving in to the needy coax of your cunt and spilling thick and hot inside of you. a low whine rumbles low in his throat as his body curls over yours with a sharp groan—pinning you to the cool surface beneath you as the sink digs into your skin.

the room is now filled with nothing more than your ragged pants as you both try to catch breath, but his body blankets you, he’s still much too pre-occupied pressing kisses to your cheeks and mouth to notice the way you’re shaking beneath him.

“yuuta, come on.” you giggle a few seconds later as the haze in your mind clears, the sound of your laugh makes yuuta shudder— push even closer despite the way you’re wrestling to push him off. you finally separate, peel away from eachother— your faces puffy and half-bruised from kisses.

“are you ready to go home now?” your boyfriend calls soothingly as he massages at your skin, letting your feet dangle from the countertop as he kneads at the skin between your hip and thigh. his eyes are on you as he stares at you, a whisper of a kind smile on his lips.

“okay, yeah. i’m definitely tired now.” you laugh and yuuta’s eyes close with his next smile.

“i’ll stay over. so i know you’re safe.” he helps you to your feet as he brushes down your clothes before fixing his own, pulling your panties back over your pussy before his load can leak out. he likes knowing you’re holding him, full of him— although it makes something in his bones shake at the idea of people seeing him drip from between your thighs instead. maybe next time.

“yuuta you’ve stayed over every day this week.” your words jostle him slightly from his lewd thoughts, catching him off guard so much he almost can’t hide the pout your answer brings from him. you’re smiling, but your words almost feel like a rejection.

“is that bad? i miss you when you’re not there, i get worried.. incase something happens.” yuuta’s hand captures yours as he stares at you but you don’t say anything. “if i stayed forever.. it would be easier.. to protect you, then i’d never have to leave.” the expression you’re wearing is unreadable, not giving him the slightest hint of what you’re thinking and it makes him uneasy. are you leaving him? do you not want him by your side? after all of those times you’ve asked him to be with you forever? were those lies?

if only you knew you’d never been without him, even when he’s not there he is— always, watching, protecting. it’s not hard for him to get into your apartment. you make it soeasy.

“i’m sorry, too much? i just don’t want to leave you yet.” yuuta exhales, the space in his chest hurts. put him at ease. for love.

“n-no, no it’s fine. it’s cute. you can stay over.” your hand squeezes his as you go to reach for the door and he moves to let you go first— smiling down at you before the door opens and your lips part to gasp.

“huh? noritoshi?” you’re unaware of how long he’s been standing there but the flush on his cheeks and the sudden restriction in his pants would serve as proof enough if you weren’t already embarrassed. but you feel yuuta lean over you again, like how he was at the start of the night except his attention leaves you this time— his haunting gaze is focused on someone else. he’s like an animal making a show of claiming it’s mate infront of another.

“um…. sorry, were you waiting?” your words are quiet, the encounter is awkward to say the least but noritoshi clears his throat despite the way he’s deliberately looking anywhere but at the two of you.

“ah, no..” he starts, “you text me. you told me to come. i thought you may be in danger.” his phone is in his hand as he turns it to you and you’re there, your number— asking him to do just that.

“i…. didnt.” it doesn’t make sense, you don’t remember the last time you even had your phone, had you left it in the living room? was this meant as some sort of prank? but who would want noritoshi to hear you and yuuta? what sort of twisted prank was that.

“she has me. i’d protect her myself. that’s what pure love is.” yuuta finally speaks after a few moments of silence, his voice is lower than normal— not the sweet tone it takes when he speaks to you. his arms squeeze tight around your waist to pull you closer and you’re still too lost in thought to pick up on the tension between the two men in the hallway. noritoshi swallows thick and yuuta leans forward to press a kiss against your cheeks before he speaks, his gaze doesn’t budge from infront of him as he does.

“baby. we should go.” the petname is soft, back to his usual gentle tone and accompanied by the pull of his hands as he guides you back through the hallway, “excuse us.”

“yeah..” you’re confused— you’re not sure what’s happening as yuuta untangles himself from you to lead you away and suddenly you really are tired, ready to tuck yourself into bed and cuddle against your boyfriends chest. you need a well deserved shower considering how sweaty you feel underneath your clothes. but still, you can’t stop your mind from retracing your steps, you’ve not seen your phone since you got here, you remember texting maki— letting her know you’d arrived… that was the last text you sent… you didn’t bring a bag, had it fallen out of your pocket? you remember you were getting annoyed about holding it… you remember… your boyfriend… offering to keep it in his pocket.

you blink up at yuuta, but goosebumps seem to rise along the back of your neck when you notice he’s already looking back. he smiles, kind, before he squeezes at your intertwined palms as he leads you.

his hand still feels cold where it holds yours.

doesn’t it feel nice to have someone care about you so much? 

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#cw yandere #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #yuuta smut #jjk x you #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you

[vscabarca]

heyy!! how you doing? i hope you're ok!! I saw you had your requests open soo what do you think of gavi x brazilian!reader where she's a friend of natalia (raphinha's wife) and meets him at a team's reunion at raphinha's house where he overheard she talking to the other wags saying she's had a crush on him ever since the world cup but he's so embarrassed and shy about it because gorgeous woman knows he exists and likes him so he panics at that and even his friends try to help (after of course teasing him in all ways imaginable) so they end up locked in a spare room in the house and finally talk and he realizes they actually have a lot in common and asks her out and she kisses him. hope you like it!! goodnight or day love!!

brazilian charm - pablo gavi

summary: Brazilian reader meets Gavi again after a year of not seeing each other at Natalia‘s party. What will happen when they are locked up in a room together?

genre: fluff

a/n: such a cute requesttt!!!! thank you sm!

———

„Natalia!“ You squealed, happy to see your friend after such a long time. It was Natalia‘s, Raphinha‘s wife’s birthday and as you recently moved here, she gladly invited you. Natalia embraced you in a long hug, swaying back and forth with a drink in her hand.

„I‘m so glad you could make it!“ She grinned and finally let you go. „Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for anything!“

„Come on, let’s introduce you to my friends.“ Natalia swiftly grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd of people, saying hello here and there as you walked by. Not far away were Fermin and Pablo, both comfortably sitting on the couch, observing the scene. The two didn’t see you at first, so you made a mental note to go over to them and say hello after you’ve met Natalia‘s girlfriends. Pablo and you already met each other during the World Cup in Qatar. You travelled alongside Raphina‘s wife, watching the games of the Brazilian National Team and came across the Sevillian midfielder. You hit it off quite well after spending some time together.

„I‘ll go and say hello to Pablo, be right back.“ You informed Natalia and her friends, and walked towards the couch. Pablo finally saw you wander towards him and he couldn’t stop but smile.

„You’re staring hermano.“ Fermin said under his breath as he saw how his friend couldn’t take his eyes off you.

„I am not.“ He fired back but they couldn’t continue bickering as you were standing in front of them.

„Hey guys.“ You politely said and gave each of them a hug. You emerged into light conversation, but it was incredibly awkward between you and Pablo. Both didn’t really know what to say so Fermin was the one leading the conversation.

„What are you doing here? Don’t you live in Rio?“

„I did until a few weeks ago, my model agency is now based in Barcelona.“ You explained, getting surprised looks from the guys.

You were about to ask Pablo about his knee, but Natalia came over, claiming she urgently had to speak with you.

As you were gone again, Fermin‘s attention turned back towards his friend.

„Heard that?“ He nudged his shoulder but Pablo was still looking at you from afar.

„What?“

„She lives here in Barcelona now.“ His eyebrows wiggled up and down, trying to gain some reaction from the midfielder.

„Do you think she’s seeing someone? I mean I wouldn’t be surprised if she was, but-„ That wasn’t even what Fermin had asked, but he already could sense Pablo had a thing for the Brazilian girl. He actually found it funny how Pablo was blabbering about her, so he decided to ask someone who surely knew if she was single or not.

Pablo was too slow to stop his friend from grabbing Raphinha‘s arm.

„Do you know if Y/n has a boyfriend?“

Raphina started laughing, shaking his head.

„I don’t think so. Why? does Pablito still have a crush on her since the World Cup?“

Pablo swiftly turned his head, surprised he knew about his attraction towards you.

„It’s a bit obvious.“ Raphina said and patted his head before walking away again.

In the meantime Natalia dragged you back to her friends, giving you a drink and started with the gossip about relationships and what not.

„As someone as gorgeous as you, you must have a lover right?“ Dayana, Vitor Roque‘s wife, asked you.

You shook your head slightly, feeling your cheeks head up. You were about to respond but Natalia was quick in jumping in.

„She still hopes Pablo will magically ask her out, even though Y/n knows he’s even shyer than her!“ Natalia scolded you, earning roars from her friends.

„Pablo? You mean Pablo Gavi?“ Mikkey asked for confirmation, to which you nodded again.

„How cute!“ Dayana chimed in a bit too loud.

What you didn’t realize to that time, Pablo stood not that far away from you, hearing what was said in these last few minutes. He swiftly turned his head towards Fermin and Pedri who joined the two not too long ago. They were both grinning at their younger friend, nudging him several times. But Pablo was terrified. What was he doing now? You were a gorgeous woman having a crush on a guy who was kicking a football around. His friends noticed the panic in his eyes and were quick to help him.

„See? she likes you too, now go and ask her out.“ Pedri spoke and already wanted to push him towards you but he stopped.

„Yeah no.“

„What no? Yes!“ Fermin interrupted and slapped the back of his head.

„Oye! I don’t even know how to ask a girl out, especially not one who’s as pretty as she is.“ Pablo could be so stubborn and shy sometimes, preventing him from doing things he wanted to do, just like now asking the girl out on a date he liked for over a year.

The party went on with you and him exchanging a few more words but neither did something about their little crushes. You then saw Natalia and Fermin whisper something to each other, but you couldn’t tell what they were on about. Natalia then walked over to you, a smug smile plastered across her face.

„Y/n could you grab me some blankets from our guest room? Fermin and his friends wanted to sit outside but it got a bit too cold. I would do it but I need to check on Gael.“ You were already on your feet, giving Pablo a quick smile before disappearing upstairs to grab the things Natalia asked you for.

In the guest bedroom you searched for these bloody blankets but just couldn’t find them anywhere. The door suddenly opened and Pablo stood in the doorway next to you.

„Gosh Pablo you scared me.“ You exclaimed, clutching your chest and let out a huff. He chuckled, wanting to say more but right then the door closed and the lock turned. Both your heads turned towards the door. Confused, Pablo made his way to the door and tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge.

„These idiots.“ You said with an open mouth, knowing exactly Natalia did that on purpose. Pablo only burst out laughing, throwing his head back.

„That’s why Fermin and Natalia were talking so much together.“ He concluded and sat down onto the bed. You took a seat next to him, leaning back onto your hands.

„Someone has to take away the alcohol they drank.“ You grinned and so did Pablo.

„Anyway, I guess we have to spend the time here until they’ve had enough fun with their plan.“

Pablo plopped down onto the bed and you did the same, turning your head so you were looking at him sideways.

„How have you been after the World Cup? We kinda lost touch.“ You said, feeling your heartbeat increase. He looked beautiful.

„We did.“ his mouth formed into a thin line, probably also not liking how you lost contact after the tournament. „But I‘ve been doing good, except for the knee injury but I‘m feeling much better already. What about you?“

„I‘m doing great, a lot of live changes but I couldn’t be happier here in Barcelona.“ Pablo smiled sweetely and you caught his gaze shifting quickly from your eyes to your lips.

„You look very pretty today, even prettier than I had remembered.“ Your heart fluttered at his words and your mind drifted to the nights you spent sneaking outside the hotel room to meet Pablo to head up to the rooftop and look at the stars.

„You’re very handsome yourself. You’ve always been.“ You complimented back and it seemed like you two scooted closer.

„Now that you’re in Barcelona… is there a chance to take you out on a date?“ You immediately grinned and nodded your head, then leaned in closer.

„May I?“ Pablo whispered, his gaze shifting again from your eyes to your lips. You gave him a quick nod again, your hand already drawing him closer by his neck. The fire in your body intensified as he crashed his lips onto yours, making you sigh contentedly. You never wanted to let him go. Pablo pulled you closer by your waist, kissing you until there was no air left.

As you both broke apart, you broke into little fits of giggles, both still a bit shy from the kiss you just shared.

„Natalia! let us out now!“

#fc barcelona #football one shot #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #pablo gavi x reader #gavi #football x reader #gavi one shot #barça #pedri x reader

[kenntolog]

Imagine cool bf Sukuna loser gf reader where reader is in the art room alone and he joins her and Sukuna initiates make out sheesh with her and she gets so flustered

𝝑𝝔 an: stop this is so cute!! i decided to add a little more details i hope u don’t mind anon!! original post is here, feel free to share your thoughts!!

cool boyfriend sukuna waits for everyone to leave the art class before ever entering the room because he knows his pretty loser girlfriend always comes out the latest.

you never see him coming up behind you as he makes his way from the open entrance and behind the neatly set up marbles to your desk, where you are seated peacefully, singing along softly and gliding your pencil across the paper calmly. your peace is eventually disturbed by his hands suddenly appearing on your shoulders as he pulls you into himself, noticing how you shut your sketchbook quickly and shriek loudly.

you go to push him away until your brain registers his laughter and you tug your headphones down, letting out an exasperated sigh. “‘kunaa! stop doing that, y’know i hate it!”

“heh,” sukuna pinches your cheek affectionately, one arm playfully settled around your neck while the other moves to ruffle your hair. “whatchu drawing there?”

that seems to fluster you as you look up at him and grip your sketchbook tighter, “nothing!”

“liar,” he sneers with a smirk and tries to pull it from your hands, hands that seem a lot more stronger with the way your grip is not easing. “you hidin’ something?”

“no, ‘kuna—”

he doesn’t let you finish, arms loosening around you to turn your chair over so you’re facing him, and puts his hand on your jaw, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks softly, not enough to hurt but enough to hold tight.

you stiffen, expression turning surprised as sukuna covers your slightly pouted lips with his, initiating a kiss. he’s quick with it, knowing how anything involving him showing any kind of affection make you putty in his hand, so he uses it so his advantage. your cheeks heat up under his fingers as you whimper and try your best to respond to him, melting under his touch.

sukuna smiles into the kiss knowingly, going slow and soft as his free hand strokes the back of your head mindlessly, to make you relax further. he sucks in your bottom lip gently, glides his tongue of it seductively before he dives deep once again, opening you up more.

it works wonders and soon enough you drop the sketchbook, gripping his shoulders instead as you try to tug him into you further, but he is an asshole so he bites your bottom lip and moves away with a victorious grin.

you let out a startled sound, looking up at him with shock.

“gotcha,” he whispers as he opens the sketchbook, quickly finding the last page.

“don’t!”

sukuna quickly recognises his figure on the page, eyes widening in surprise. a couple of sketches of his face and one of his body in his basketball uniform. and then he looks through earlier pages, finding himself sprinkled into your drawings even from last year. and his smirk grows mischievous at the realisation.

“this what you were hidin’?” he gazes at you, drinking in the way you cover your face with your hands. “you’ve liked me for a while now, haven’t you?”

you nod your head silently, still hiding from him.

he puts the sketchbook away and steps closer to you, hands coming up to pry yours away, “what a loser you are.”

you look up at him with glistening eyes, lips pouty and bitten by him.

“cute.” sukuna thinks out loud, as he pats the top of your head, enjoying the way you get embarrassed even more, burying your face in his shoulder.

#— miya writes! #i just love him being a menace #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

[sugoi-writes]

Nun! Alastor X Reader - Part 2 - The Confessional

HahahaHAH ITS HERE!

Warnings: serious filth and sacrilege, mentions of tentacles, some choking, fingering, oral (surprise for whose receiving~) and some really depraved confessions and convos. Cursing!!! Yay, sin! I hope you guys enjoy 💗 there will be a VERY important poll at the end, so be sure to give it a look 👀

Edit: I noticed a few mistakes on my 100th read-through, and made some changes. Apologies for that!

Never had you felt more nervous when stepping towards a chapel, hands wringing themselves soothingly. The sweat clung to your palms as you looked up towards the looming structure, head straining to take in the full magnitude of the building. The intricate stained-glass windows were illuminated under the moonlight, casting grand scenes across the earth at your feet.

In Hell, most sinners were more active at night. Depending on the Ring you would visit, you would likely run into 'unsavory' company. But thankfully, this humble part of the Pentagram was lulling with sleep, as if abiding by the arbitrary notion of a "Sabbath Day". How ironic.

You wet your lips, cursing yourself for not taking better care of yourself, before you quietly enter the building. Your eyes scanned the main hall, the room you had sat in not too long ago. Candles lit up the pulpit faithfully at the front of the chamber, while torches lined the perimeter. In this lighting, the room seemed so different, giving off the air of a deathly calm and peace; a juxtaposition to its normally bustling, jittery energy.

You almost called out into the dim room, but restrained yourself. You bowed your head, looking down cast before uttering a gentle apology for the intrusion. When you looked back up, you nodded, hyping yourself up before coming into the room further.

It is by this point that you hear something shuffling, your head snapping towards the sound. Your bravado was instantly dashed as you flew into a panic. Your eyes flash with fear, hands flying defensively upward... before you sigh with relief. You caught sight of a small, fuzzy mouse, scurrying away from you. False alarm, for now...

Your eyes scan your surroundings again, before you spy a short hallway. You step towards it, noticing that there appeared to be a private area. You squint in the dim light, spying a humble looking booth within the room.

Bingo. This must be where "confessions" occur.

You start to make your way down the hall, eager to meet with the Priest about redemption. Your head was high; you had genuine, innocent hope that this wouldn't be some money laundering, bait-and-switch scheme. And if it was... well, you just might punch a priest.

Your eyes observe paintings on the wall; you were surrounded by familiar depictions. The birth of Jesus, the Crucifixtion of Christ... the First Fallen Angel, Lucifer's decent. The rise of both Lilith and Lucifer in Hell... all of the depictions reminded you just how dire your predicament was, and how much you desperately wanted to leave hell.

In the last frame in the hallway, you spy a photograph, pausing to get a closer look. In the center, arms folded pridefully, there stood the Priest, St. Vox... among him, to both sides, stood honest though demonic looking nuns. You squint at the form to his right, unable to make out the face of the tall, slender Nun. All you could make out was a set of yellowed, razor sharp teeth smiling back at you. You shuddered, unable to shake the feeling you were being watched, before you entered the private room.

Without hesitation, you entered the booth, having a seat in the left side. You were not comforted by a cushion or pillow, the seat creaking under you. You flinched, the noise almost deafening in the resounding silence. And then, you waited, waiting for a sign of the Priest you sought to speak to.

You were welcomed in perfect silence, your eyes trained on the confessional booth before you. A simple construction, for sure, but the carvings and finishes made the booth seem... expensive. You walked up to it, hand tracing intricate carvings of religious iconography. Snakes, the Forbidden Fruit, Angelic wings... a myriad of designs and carvings litered the enter frame. Had you had better lighting, you would take the time to appreciate it more... but you were here on strick business.

When the bench in the booth to your left suddenly creaked, you nearly banged your head on ceiling. Your heart was in your throat, frightened; did the door even open??? How did someone get in there so quickly???

A throat was cleared, the sound of static crackle replaced with a low hum, before a familiar voice cut through.

"Child, I apologize for keeping you waiting. Sadly, there's no rest for the wicked, nor those who seek to help them." You sigh in relief as Vox speaks to you, shoulders instantly relaxing. You fold your hands neatly in your lap, looking towards the booth's door as you spoke.

"No worries! It uhh-- it wasn't for long, if that's what you're worried about. I... well, your Nun informed me that you had a chance to hear me out? I hope that I came at the correct time..."

Midnight, on the nose. Though some cultures differed, you were sure you were correct on this notion...

"My Child, you came at the perfect time. But, I must fulfill my duty to you; to listen first. What have you come to speak about?"

You leaned back as your thumbs twiddle, suddenly sheepish," Well... I know your methods of redemption usually come through... err, "offerings". Monetary ones, at that. I was wondering if you had ever seen anyone be saved? Redeemed and brought to Heaven on just... good will and sinless lifestyle alone?"

A dark chortle... then, an uproarious laughter fills the booth as you look in shock.

"Oh, dear Child, you are mistaken! A sinner is not capable of change! Nor is a sinner able to even fathom walking to the Heavenly Gates. No... the actions taken can never be washed clean... at least, not in Hell. What's done is done. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. But..."

You feel your skin crawl as you feel the Priest facing you, still unable to see him in the darkness of the booth, just behind a lattice-patterned divider.

"You mention humble offerings... now those have proven to make life in hell more... comfortable. Much more so than that of anyone. Offerings have the ability to keep you safe; make you privy to things that others are not." You shrink back from the voice as it draws closer, a characteristic glitch setting in the tone.

Your face instantly morphed from bafflement to rage, anger brewing in your core," What-- what are you saying?!?"

"I-- your money can make you safe. It can welcome you to my fold, dear... Or... if money isn't on the table... there are... other ways to earn favor in this sacred place."

The voice past the partition seems to smile a wider," Dear, I believe you know that your soul could be traded... for freedom. For pleasures. Who best to give it to than a Priest who can promise you untold riches? No salvation, but, comforts in this life time? I can give you that-- and SO much more!!!"

"Forget it!!!" You shrieked, standing firmly on your feet and slamming your fist into the wall," I do have a confession to make, after all!"

You feel your eyes welling with hot, angry tears as your words spew out, unabashed," I LOATHE your methods! I think that taking people's money for their loyalty is-- it's sick! Almost as sickening as buying their love with promises of salvation! You're just-- just some pompous, religious twat!"

You slam your fist into the partition again, feeling your anger bleeding into your physical form," I'll tell you-- I'll tell you that I think you're a fucking sham.. this whole Chapel is! The only GOOD thing you have in this building is your fucking Nun, Alastor!"

The voice from the other end does nothing to interrupt you, seemingly silenced by your fury.

The door to your booth is slammed open by your hand, as you trudge towards the door.

"In fact-- I think I will go seek her-- him??? THEM out!!!"

"I've had it with this discussion. You aren't here to help me. You're here to coerce me. And I'm not gonna listen to another word of your warped gospel, you cheap, conniving, greedy fUCKER--!"

A sickening, twisted laughed bellowed in the chamber, the tone of voice morphed and unable.

You gasped when you were suddenly slammed into the wall, body pressed flush to it as someone pinned you from behind. You struggled, choking as the air was unintentionally pushed out of your lungs. You became frantic as the hot breath of the demon behind you fanned across your ear. Shit-- shit!!! You fucked up!

"At last, Sweet Lamb... you've begun to see the light!"

You freeze, eyes straining to look behind you. The voice of the Priest was no more, replaced with the familiar, velveteen tone of the Nun. You opened your mouth, struggling to speak with no support," Y-You! This is-- please explain!" was all you could squeak out, before a neutral hum sounds behind you. You shuddered as it reverberated through you, no time to think as you were spun around.

Again, the Nun's body pinned your own, craning downward to look at your frightened face," Sadly, the Priest could not make it to Confessional tonight... But, I was more than happy to step in, in his absence." You trembled as his arms left deep rivets in the wall beside you, swallowing hard," And, to be frank, the help he would have offered you would have been the same; inadequate, even."

You stopped struggling as you locked eyes with the demon above you, swallowing shallowly as he spoke again.

"Now, as for helping you: I'm afraid the only entity who can divinely interfere with your predicament is the Lord and his Seraphims. Not even the Ruler of the Hells could hope to overwrite God's Will." You eyes turn downcast, face heating at the words. Of course... that would make sense. Only God and the angels can open the gates, right? How foolish an idea you had...

"There are things that a Saint, such as myself, can still offer to you..." Your eyes widen in recognition: Aha! So he WAS a man, afterall. You blink, shaking your head quizzically.

"However..." You felt a clawed finger beneath your jaw, beckoning you to look up. You were faced with the same, wide smile, eyes narrow slits filled with delight.

"I have SO many questions-- for one, why would you be parading as a Nun, if you're a Saint?" Alastor's grin grows a touch mischievous, before a weighed sigh leaves him," Alas, the Priest here struggles with... containing himself. He has a history of giving in to Earthly desires, time and time again. I can bring him much discomfort with just my voice, let alone my body... I am merely a vessel for the Lord, and yet he wishes to, well, lay his claim. And so, the habit conceals everything he can't keep his eyes off of; everything he is not permitted to touch by the Lord."

His neck tilts, cracking with the harsh angle as he looks to you," I think it's quite the sound idea, don't you think?"

Alastor leans back, his hips still pinning you to the wall. Your face heats hastily with embarrassment. He seemed to be gauging your every move, calculating what you may try while under his trap.

"Sure, right-- Okay... perverted Priest. Wouldnt be the first time I've heard of that..." You looked up shakily to the nun... saint...? You aren't sure what to call him anymore. Alastor quirks a brow up at you, egging you to speak.

"Okay, okay, second question: what are you implying that you can help me with?" You yelp as a knee comes between your legs, caging you again. Alastor bends down at the waist to match your height, his face growing closer to yours. With hands at either side of your head... you were still so close... and so, so trapped.

"I think we both know that you have something else to get off your chest... Thoughts that you've been plagued with, My Lamb." A slender, warm finger runs down your cheek, knuckle first, ending the trail just below your jaw. You gasp as Alastor comes impossibly closer, his fringe nearly brushing your forehead.

"Wh...what do you mean...?"

The Saint chuckles darkly, shaking his head," Oh, wayward one... your eyes betray you. They betrayed you the moment you looked into mine." You nearly squeaked as his other hand brushed through your hair, ensuring he could see your entire face.

"I saw you, even from across the room... Eyes wide in awe, wonder... You were completely spellbound by a riveting performance. You tried to look away, you shifted in your seat to silence your nerves... And yet: your eyes never strayed far from this Servant of the Lord."

A choppy gasp as the hand in your hair ran down to your neck, lightly caressing and pressing to your pulse.

You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, subconsciously parting them as he continued to speak," Your body kept betraying your internal struggle, Little Lamb."

"I could sense your heartbeat, quivering and loud, with each movement I made, each inhale I had to take to sing. Each time I smiled just a touch more... I could almost taste the sweat that ran down your brow, your eyelids fluttering during the final chorus. Your thighs could only do so much to relieve the pressure that built up in you. You were enthralled... but not by the Lord's gospel: but by me."

His hand drifted down to your chest, settling over the very spot your heart should be. Your breathing quickened, your eyes never leaving his. You cursed yourself, biting your lip to stifle any shameful noise you might create.

St. Alastor's smile never wavered as he leaned over you, that familiar heat ghosting over your neck.

"I didn't miss the way that your pulse quickened when I walked closer... you hadn't even been a part of my original section, you know. But Sister Eunice was more than willing to switch. Your palms became clammy, eyes glassy as you tried desperately to plan your escape... And the moment my arms caught you, I knew for sure: you also struggle with impurities of the flesh. Specifically..."

You watched with baited breath as his hand drifted lower, until they landed on the hem of your bottoms, ghosting just above your core,"... you struggle to keep your thoughts, your body's reactions, at bay around me."

You gasp as you are groped by the large hand of the Saint, breath already ragged from his words," But... to know for sure, I need to hear these impurities come from your lips. The first step to forgiveness is confession; honesty. You must repent for your actions, in order to properly atone. So... is there anything you need to confess to, Bashful One?"

Your eyes glazed over, a familiar heat brewing downstairs as you felt his palm grind against your clothed sex. Your head rolled back, lip quivering as the Saint waited patiently. Your mouth fell open, a quiet sigh escaping you.

"Yes, there it is... let it out, Lamb. Don't hide in shame from the Lord. Embrace it-- embrace this--" You whined as your arms grabbed at his habit, his hands shifting and rubbing you through your clothing torturously. You try to stifle another moan, eyelids fluttering," Th-This is-- haaah!" You let your eyes fall closed, brows furrowing," Y-You have the wrong idea, I didn't come here to f-fuCK--"

You could barely contain yourself as you felt the hands of the Saint slip into your bottoms, fingers tracing a sensual line from the bottom of you slit, up to the pearl that sat atop it. You whined as Alastor pressed against it, unable to think clearly as he began to swirl two digits around your clit. His movements are slow, not to overwhelm you, eyes taking in your expressions to monitor your progression.

"St. Alastor! I--" you caved to the feeling, grinding into the saint's hand," I-I didn't come for this, but... I-I did think immoral things about you." Good choice, Alastor thought.

You bit your lip as you were rewarded a pinch to your bud, back arching off of the wall as you wailed," I-I-- fuck-- y-your voice was really-- mmph!" You grabbed onto the demon's shoulders above you, rooting yourself in place as you felt Alastor's pace increase.

"Hah... y-your hands looked-- feel-- so warm! Uhhn! Y-your eyes were--" Alastor pinches again, correcting you," A-Are--! Your eyes are s-so deep-- it feels like you were-- i-it felt like you were undressing me with them!"

"W-When you caught me, for a moment I felt- hah-- saAAaafee~" You mewl as Alastor's fingers move lower, teasing your entrance, where you desired his fingers the most. Your face was tilted further to the side, before you felt a wet, hot mouth suckling at the junction of your neck. You shuddered, fighting the mewl he tore from you so easily. Unsatisfied, you felt sharp teeth biting down, making you shriek with surprise. Pain was quickly replaced with a soothing pleasure, Alastor kissing and licking at the wound apologetically. You sighed, working up the mental capacity to speak again.

A sly smile graces his face, leaning in to place chaste, innocent kisses to your neck," ...and perhaps they were, clever Lamb... Perhaps they were~" You whined at the notion, mouth hanging open as you continued your confession. You could hardly think straight as you felt his fingers quicken, your eyes beginning to lose focus. You trembled, knowing that this confession had been doing lewd thing to your mind and body.

"I-I felt, no-- I needed those arms around me again. I wanted..." Boldly, you moved your arms from his shoulders, pulling lightly at Alastor's veil," I really wanted to see what was underneath all of this, too... call it a sin, but... I... I have nothing to hide anymore; not from you or the Lord."

You watch as Alastor's head doubles over, a shaky groan escaping him. When he looked back up at you, his eyes blended in with the rest of the room: they became pitch black.

"What an obedient, honest fucking pet you are, Little Lamb~"

Without warning, two fingers made their intrusion, but your silken heat was relaxed enough to take him. You cried out in bliss from the reward, tugging at the head dress again. Alastor simply kept going, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he thrust his digits up into your welcoming, quivering heat.

"Ahh, ahh~ I've taken an oath, little one. No one is permitted to see such secrets~"

You whine as you clamp down on his wet fingers, brows furrowing. You needed more; you demanded to see more. You didn't miss the way that Alastor hissed, brows furrowing at how tight you were. It seemed that he enjoyed the display far more than he let on...

Attempting to ground himself, his hand landed on your neck, holding you in place. The effect seemed to make you wetter, eyebrows raising with realization as your moans deepened. What an interesting revelation~ The Lord most certainly worked in mysterious ways!

He leans down to your ear, voice low and dripping with a sacrilegious heat," ...Tap once if you would like me to tighten my grip. Tap twice to stop it immediately." Your eyes, wide with desire, fluttered and rolled towards the ceiling, but you nodded nonetheless. If this was how all of your confessions would go... then you would become a zealot of the Lord and the Saint before sunrise.

You gave his shoulder a tap, hand landing there as you let his fingers explore and scissor the walls of your pussy. Alastor was happy to oblige, his hand squeezing your neck gently.

The action made your mouth run dry, your eyes glazing with desperate, passionate tears as his fingers thrust deliberately in your core.

Another tap to his shoulder, your eyes gazing into the flickering radio dials that had become Alastor's pupils. Again, Alastor was happy to amuse you.

You couldn't contort or stifle the noises you made, grunts and mewls the only music to leave your delicate throat. St. Alastor's hand squeezed as promised, making you flutter pathetically around him. You whined as you took in the nun turned god, your tongue hanging precariously out of your mouth. He smirked, a dangerous chortle bouncing off the chamber walls.

"Already at a loss for words, Lamb?" Alastor's fingers inside of you flex inward, pressing against a spot that made you see the pearly gates.

"My, my, your confessions will fall unto deaf ears at this rate~ Speak up, won't you? The Lord and I are granting you an audience~" He knew you couldn't speak; he knew and he didn't care. He just wanted to see you keen and struggle against him, unable to do anything but beg for more or stop this all together.

You couldn't even think of a sentence, let alone speak it into existence. Your lips flapped desperately, hands snaking up to grip at the wrist and hand on your throat. Your legs quaked, your eyes threatening to roll back as you gave a singular tap. Just one.

Alastor's eyes gleam with insidious joy as his smile expands.

Even tighter.

You felt your hips guiding themselves along Alastor's devout fingers, chasing a feeling that was hastily approaching. Alastor did little to stop you, intrigued by the display. At the intrusion of a third finger, a wanton dribble of saliva cascaded down your chin. A strangled groan: you certainly didnt mind the delicious stretch that your entrance underwent.

St. Alastor returned his attention to your face, licking a heated stripe across your parted, swollen lips. You sputtered with ecstacy, the feeling further spurring you on. You felt your coil tighten, your throat burning as you panted with reckless abandon.

"Come unto me, Little Lamb."

You needed little motivation, a silent scream gracing your face as you completely shut down. Your legs spasmed and stilled, heart racing as Alastor finally let go of your neck. Your voice was hoarse for a beat or two, hands instinctively going up to your neck. You felt a small, dried blood trail from the bite on your neck, trembling with the notion that he visibly marked you. If he didnt intend to own you, then he made a grave mistake.

You only whine as the feeling of his warm fingers left your core; this only managed to light a fire in you. You look back towards the Saint as your eyes lidded, a heavy sigh his only warning as you pushed him off of you. Alastor, surprised, caught himself with a pitch black tentacle that manifested behind him. You start to unbutton your bottoms, pushing them off of your hips before kicking them to the side. You start trudging towards the Saint with a renewed heat in your eyes. Alastor's grin nearly split his face in half as he watched you, completely overtaken by your desire to commit more sins.

Alastor tilts his head, taking deliberate paces away from you and towards the confessional booth. He had a grand idea!

"It seems that you are still plagued with impure thoughts. Tell me, Dear Lamb..." Alastor practically chuckles as he takes you by the wrist, tugging you off your feet and into the booth. You land harshly on his lap, the both of you groaning as you grind down on his firm, tall erection.

His tone was dangerous, a myriad of tenacles materializing around your limbs," What other impurities trouble you, my Lamb?" You grow impatient, boldly reaching for his lap before your hand is held aloft. Cursed tentacle!!!

"P-Please, Sister-- Saint Alastor," Your tone comes our more like a plea than a demand, as your other arm is held over your head. Your legs are spread apart, your bare cunt dribbling your essence; it drips down your glistening thighs in a tantalizing way.

"I have had thoughts of you f-fucking me... a-and I don't know how to b-b-- AHH!!" Your hips buck at an unfamiliar feeling, one of Alastor's tendrils caressing and teasing your entrance," I-I don't how to-- How to banish the thought... I-I may need higher intervention. I-I need your blessing, St. Alastor."

A prideful, malicious smile replaces the amusement on his face, long, slithering tongue dragging across his lips," Well, that is certainly a hefty demand! You poor, sinful wretch!"

You cry out in pleasure as the tentacle spears you, exploring parts much deeper than his fingers could reach. You felt your arousal slicken the foreign body, making the intrusion easier. A wanton moan sounds in the air everytime the tentacle thrusts into you.

Alastor stands on his feet, flicking a wrist as the tentacle's speed picks up. You were completely helpless to his whims, your eyes threatening to roll back as you are overcome by the tentacles' hold and movements. The Saint looked all too pleased as you heard the rustling of fabric. You tried to look down, but a tentacle covers your leering eyes, making you wail in frustration. Alastor tuts like a disappointed teacher, shaking his head.

"And here I was, about to reward you for your blatant, unabashed honesty... Should I stop? Should I call the Priest to finish the job? Or should I leave you here, tied up and aching for relief... Just to let any-old-sinner find you in such a state?"

You freeze, biting your lip as the tentacle slows to a painfully slow slog. You whine again, thrashing your head in protest," N-No, no, no...! Ughhnn, no please! Don't stop! I-I still want your blessing, Alastor! Pl-Please!"

A wicked laugh sounds in front of you as a hand snakes up your top, finding and fondling your right nipple. You jolt at the sensation, the feeling multiplied due to the lack of sight. You weren't expecting the tentacle inside of you to stir to life at the same time, now with a renewed, brutal pace. You were practically screaming at the onslaught, bouncing from every thrust you were gifted.

"Ohh, I knew you would succumb to God's Will, my dear... You see, we all fall helpless, begging at God's feet."

You feel yourself being dragged down until your knees hit the floor , your hands still held high above your head. You weren't expecting warm, firm flesh to land on your face, gently slapping at your parted lips. You could only speculate what it was, your thighs unable to clamp together.

"I must warn you, receiving my blessing can be quite taxing... do you still wish to accept it, Lamb?"

Your tongue comes out from your lips, swiping along Alastor's cock. You feel his hips stutter as you lick all that you could reach, your head already lightheaded from your desire to please him. You swirl your tongue around the head, the tip of your tongue teasing the slit in your movements. You heard a warning growl, a hand fisting your hair and holding you in place.

Still unable to see, you look up towards the noise, mouth wide open," G-Grace me with your blessing, Oh Shepard..." You could feel Alastor's breath hitching, trying to restrain himself.

"Guide this Lamb to the light of the Lord. Please.."

You were given no time to prepare as Alastor thrust into your mouth, his animalistic grunt your only solice. You were shell-shocked as he and the tentacle worked in tandem to break you. You swiveled your hips and met the thrusts from below, arching your back as your head was used as a personal cock sleeve. Though you wished to see Alastor's own lips, bruised and panting, his hair clinging to his forehead as he thrust into you... the feeling would have to surfice. And though you wanted to run your hands along his abdomen, raking your nails across his pistoning hips... you couldn't deny that the feel of the whole ordeal verged on the precipice of Nirvana.

You groans and mewls made his cock twitch and leak more precum, making your mouth even more slick for his movements. He couldn't deny how good this felt; he, himself, would have a lot to answer for later, in the privacy of the basement. He moaned as he thought of his future atonement, limbs spread and head to the floor to form the cross before a statue of Jesus. His fingers would be clawing into the floor as he recited his virtues and prayers, pleading forgiveness for a sin he felt no guilt for.

His mind clouded with visions of you, trying to seduce and distract him. Your hands would trace along his body and caressing his traitorous, sensitive tail. This information, for now, was still unknown to you...

He practically shouted from the pleasure your mouth offered him, one hand holding your face still while the other braced himself against the confession booth door and splinted the wood.

He was already approaching his climax, and by the looks of it, you were nearing your second. His smile strained as his hips lost their rhythm, opting to seek the feeling and not the motion.

"Fuck-- fuck, Lamb... oh, my sweet Lamb!!!"

You whined around Alastor's cock, your hands struggling against their restraints as you cunt throbbed with the desire to cum.

"You are so-- fuck, so fucking warm!" You felt your orgasm bubbling in your core, your tongue doing its best to carress and snake around his cock, welcoming his release with open mind and body.

"An obedient Lamb... worthy of my blessing!! Arggh-- b-blessings upon you, Lamb!! Take it! Take every last drop-- Hah--"

You gagged as Alastor bottomed out in your mouth, unable to pull away as his 'blessing' painted you white as snow. You shrieked around his cock as a new tentacle traced fast circles around your clit, forcing your release to hit you by surprise. You screamed into the climax, feeling a warm gush between you legs as you finally came undone.

Alastor pulled out of your mouth, his tentacles still touching and pulling you through your release. Your eyes are uncovered as Alastor kneels before you, kissing you hard and passionately. Your hands were soon freed, and so you tore off the damned veil. You began tangling your hands into the Saint's red and black locks, your euphoria starting to die down.

Once you felt like you were back in the right state of mind, you parted from Alastor's lips, a pleasant smile on your face. You looked down to your lap, embarrassed at the unmistakable puddle you left behind from your passions. Alastor looked too, eyes flicking back to yours as his grin softened.

"Worry not. I will handle this, Lamb. No one will know of this night. And your confessions will be safe with me."

"...REALLY now..."

The both of your freeze, looking to one another as a familiar voice sounds behind you.

"Y'know, confessions: they're supposed to be in a private, sacred place... and from your actions, this place has been sullied and desecrated."

The door to the booth flies open, Alastor and you both jumping from the sudden BANG. Your eyes widen in horror at the Demon who stood in the doorway.

"What do you both have to say for yourselves?"

#nun!alastor #@st-alastors-confessional #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel drabble #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #heheheheh whose at the doooooor? i guess you guys need to find out... NEXT TIME #i hope you enjoy this filthy piece of mine ❤️❤️❤️ #i hope it lives up to the hype #hdhdjsjsj #gdusjs #hehe #ice bath time

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • VIII

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, mentions of suggested abuse, mentions of weapons, kidnapping/restraints.

Authors note: Chapter Eight - The Drain: thanks for waiting so patiently for me to update beautiful humans <3

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant @veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @thescarlettvvitch @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs @flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls @hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3

+++++

I picked at the grass for a moment, playing nervously with the strands I pulled from the dirt, “she’s gone. I don’t know how to find her.”

My vision blurred as silent tears fell, and my head bowed again.

“I miss you, mom.” I used my sleeve to dry my cheeks, “and you, dad.”

The three of us sat in silence, the trees above the courtyard singing with the autumn air. I spoke to them for a few more minutes. I tried to make it quick, knowing that if I stayed longer I wouldn't be able to leave.

“I hope you get to meet her someday,” I murmured as I stood, dusting off my pants.

“I’d like to hear about this girl.”

My stomach dropped as I whipped around in alarm, my heart thumping rapidly once I met his silver completion.

+++++

U̧̢̼̹͓͇̮͈͕̰͑͗ͭ̂̐̓̾̇̑̀̑̌̅̈͟͢͞Ń̷̙͎͍̘͈̰̫̫̭̼͇̻̱͈̝̇͐̌ͧͥ̅͑̏̈̐̉ͫ͝͡͠K̷̴̷̸͇̤̝̥͓̤̖̣̇̏ͭ̇̇̍ͨ͞_̸̸̨̡͎̭̄NͨO̅͆WͨŅ̷̢̮̣̰͚̝̮ͫ̑̾ͤ͌̉̀ͧͪͅͅ

Soon, I’ll kill my final piece of evidence… and soon, I’ll have control of Fidelio.

+++++

RUFFILO

I paced around the room with my phone in hand, Jolly and Folio’s eyes following me with every step. Juice mewed from Folio’s lap, and I sighed, staring at the screen. Not even a cat could make me feel better right now.

I ran my thumb across the glass to refresh the app once more. No new messages. Clicking the call button for the hundredth time I almost screamed once it rang until voicemail again.

“Noah’s been gone for hours.” I swallowed harshly, “and there’s still no trace of Y/N.”

“Nicky-” Jolly began, standing up from the couch to place a soothing hand on my shoulder, stopping my pacing briefly, “I’m sure Noah’s fine- he’s probably freaking the fuck out looking for Y/N. Maybe even went to the cafe and Sammy’s to fill her bosses in…”

My stomach sunk at his words, and my mind began to race. Something didn’t feel right. I knew Noah, and something felt wrong. He told me he was going to go to the cemetery to clear his mind- and I don’t think he wouldn’t go find Y/N by himself, not after everything that happened. He knew we were stronger in a group.

I shook my head, refreshing my phone for the hundredth time before moaning in frustration, “No. I think he’s in trouble.”

“He’s probably still at the cemetery,” Nick reassured me, standing up with Juice in his arms.

“Can we go look?” I asked, eying both of them as I pressed call, ringing Noah again. No answer.

“He took Y/N’s car so we’d have to walk…” Jolly groaned.

Nick snorted, “Walking is for plebs. Let’s just Uber.”

“Really?” I sighed, giving my brothers a look of relief that they’d come with me.

Jolly laughed, patting my back as we grabbed our shoes, “If it eases your mind seeing him talking to some headstones, then let’s go.”

I threw him a look, glaring, “You know it’s not just any headstone.”

“I know, Nicholas. I know.” Jolly reassured me and I nodded curtly.

We arrived at the cemetery half an hour later, and Y/N’s car was still in the parking lot. A spark of hope filled my mind as we wandered down the overgrown path- however the air felt heavy and still as my throat clenched in anticipation.

The closer we got to Noah’s parents, the more hopeless I felt, as he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“I don’t see him,” I mumbled, walking with haste down the path.

The graves were now in sight and I sucked in a breath, shaking my head. Even though the car was still here, something was wrong.

There was a fresh set of white flowers scattered across the front of the graves, the vase that normally sat between the stones lying on the drying grass.

“He could have just left,” Nick chimed in, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Without the car?” I shrugged him off, pointing at the flowers, “He wouldn’t have laid them out like that. Why is the vase knocked onto the ground?”

Squinting my eyes at something that lay a few feet away from the stone, I felt my chest warm, my head beginning to shake. My limbs halted and I watched Jolly brush past me, his head tilting as he bent down, picking up the black object.

“Is this-” He began, flipping it in his hand, inspecting the singular sneaker.

“Noah’s,” I said, my stomach dropping.

Folio shrugged, “It could be anyone’s.”

I reached for the shoe, pointing to the hole that was beginning to form on the toe, “No this is one hundred percent Noah’s- the hole forming? He’s had this pair of vans for over a year. Plus, they’re a size twelve.” I peeled back the tongue, analyzing the faded tag.

“How would he lose a shoe here?” Folio asked.

“He wouldn’t,” Jolly said, looking around the cemetery, his body turning quickly as he scoped out the trees, “He would have taken it off on purpose.”

I turned around, my mind beginning to spiral. First Y/N, now Noah.

He had to have been taken.

“Do you think he’s leaving a clue?” I whispered, staring at my brothers before glancing at the grass, my feet carrying me further into the cemetery.

“Those twins must’ve taken him,” Folio spit angrily, his fists clenching.

I watched Jolly as he leaned around the headstones, his fingers tracing the rock for any signs Noah may have left, before picking up one of the flowers. He twirled it between the pad of his thumb and index finger, staring at the dishevelled petals.

“There aren’t enough flowers here to be a full bouquet, and some of the petals are ripped…” Jolly’s eyes locked with mine briefly before I scanned the ground and trees, landing on a speck of white in the distance.

I pointed as my feet carried me towards the spec, “There.”

A few petals were dispersed down the path, and as I peered ahead, another sprinkle of white caught my gaze.

“I think he’s left a trail,” I said, my breathing becoming erratic as my eyes widened, fear sinking in.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Nick jogged up to me, pushing my shoulder to send me forward.

The three of us ventured deeper into the graveyard, passing various weathered tombstones, and surveying the ground every few feet for new petals. The further we walked, the more sparse the trail became. Eventually, it stopped altogether.

“Should we keep going?” Jolly asked, pointing to the gate that was open at the back of the cemetery.

Shrugging my shoulders, I kept walking, “We might as well.”

+++++

Y/N

The room lights flickered in a staggered pattern, the yellow tint that created shadows against the wall causing my head to spin. The room was stuffy and damp, an eternal sense of hopelessness radiating from the aura within.

I coughed, my tear-stained eyes squeezing shut as I lay on the motel bed, my limbs tied down. I tugged for the hundredth time, the rope digging into the wound that had formed from the tension.

I’ve been here for what felt like an eternity, but was really only two days.

Two days of complete hell.

The motel door clicked open and I winced in fear but relaxed slightly once I saw it was Kiean. He emerged, holding a bag of fast food.

The aroma made my mouth begin to water, but I swallowed away the hunger, attempting to push away the urge. The sounds that erupted from my stomach gave me away as Kiean locked the door, his head tilting to the side in worry.

“Are you finally going to agree to eat?” He sighed, tossing the key onto the rickety wooden table that was near the wall in front of the bed. I avoided his gaze, my mouth shut, refusing to talk.

The blonde walked over to me, the ice in the soft drink chittering against the paper cup as he placed it on the nightstand. He then opened the brown paper bag, pulling out some fries and some chicken strips.

“I got your usual…” Kiean tried giving me a small smile, but I turned my head. He sighed again, sitting on the edge of the bed. I pulled against the rope to push myself away from his presence, but my leg was stuck touching his back. The contact made my skin burn in fury.

“I even got your favourite sauce.”

Old friends, same disease I'm killing myself again Old friends, same to me I can't get away from it

I sent a glare in his direction as my stomach churned again, rumbling from the delicious, greasy scent. I felt sick from how hungry I was, and my throat felt dry from the lack of water.

Kiean watched me with concern as he unwrapped the straw and placed it into the drink, holding it up to my mouth.

“Drink Y/N, for fucksake.”

The paper brushed against my lips and I squeezed them together, closing my eyes in resentment. He held the cup for almost a minute before I broke, taking the straw into my mouth and sucking up the liquid. I downed the entire thing, gasping for air once I stopped.

“Thank you,” Kiean murmured, opening the box of chicken strips and sauce. I tugged at the rope again before wincing as it dug into the laceration that formed.

Kiean’s brows furrowed as he stared at my wrist, before holding the strip to my mouth for me. No longer able to resist I took a bite and almost moaned at the flavour, swallowing greedily.

“Stop tugging on the rope,” He almost pleaded, “I’m sorry it’s hurting you. Kade would kill me if I took them off.”

Old friends are just a memory That I didn't need

His green eyes bore into me with unease, “You know how he is.” Yeah, I do.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while as he fed me. I was grateful for the food nonetheless, despite them kidnapping me and tying me to a bed frame. I don’t think I could have made it much longer without eating.

One question frequented my mind, and as much as I didn’t want to talk, I knew that deep down I was safer with Kiean than his brother; and I was afraid that at any moment, he would step through the door.

“Where is Kade?”

Kiean’s head snapped toward me in shock, surprised that I finally spoke.

“Oh- he’s out right now,” Kiean shrugged, turning his gaze to the floor, “I think he’s looking for your boyfriend.”

My heart clenched in worry, mind wandering to Noah and the boys. Were they okay after the crash? Were they hurt?

Were they looking for me?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I mumbled, staring at the blonde. He turned to face me, eyes analyzing my expression. His pupils dilated in knowing, his stillness a telltale sign he knew something was up.

Kiean was always able to read through me.

“But you have feelings for him,” He said as we watched each other, the gaze between us speaking for me.

I tried my best to remain stiff, but I nodded, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know why you left Y/N,” Kiean looked away, looking at his hands that were folded in his lap, playing with his fingers, “and I don’t blame you for leaving.”

“I couldn’t handle it anymore. So many people were hurt. So many people dead.” I whispered, my voice wavering. I blinked in an attempt to hide my tears, but that only made them fall down the skin of my cheeks.

Kiean picked at his nails, “I’m not gonna lie, you fucked us over.”

My mouth formed a straight line as I stared at the patterned bedsheets.

“The whole syndicate fell once you left. Matt followed. Then Orie, then Bryan. Our organization collapsed after you disappeared…and the Rule Maker took over. You know how much that would have pissed Kade off.”

My body stiffened at the mention of the Rule Maker. He was the biggest crime syndicate in North America other than us; always trying to take Fidelio down.

“Once business shifted and we tried building up again- but since we lost the crew it was almost impossible. We became petty dealers for a bit, but no one wanted to deal with Kade anymore. So, we’ve been working under the Rule Maker as the foxes.” Kiean sighed.

“And he’s blamed me for everything,” I laughed bitterly.

Kiean nodded, “I mean, our business fell apart once you left Y/N. We have nothing now.”

“So you blame me too?” I asked, glaring at him. Kiean didn’t say anything.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t want to be part of that shitty lifestyle anymore. I was tired of being used, and I was tired of being part of a problem,” my voice began to rise, “So many people got hurt, and I did some heinous things. I needed out, especially after everything with Kade happened.”

“Kade has issues, I know… but he loves you Y/N-”

“Oh fuck off!” I yelled, my body pulling against the restraints in frustration, “Don’t you dare say he loves me.”

My chest heaved as venomous words left my tongue, “What he did to me was not love. I wish he was dead.”

“Look-” Kiean placed a hand on my own, which caused me to flinch. I tried pulling away, but couldn’t due to the ropes grasp, “I know you’re angry. You hate him, and you hate me, but we need your help.”

“Why would I ever help you,” my teeth clenched in animosity.

Kiean watched me carefully, “You put that mask back on for your friend.”

I avoided his gaze once again.

“You knew we’d be able to find you, and you knew Kade would come in a heartbeat…So why did you risk everything you ran from, for him? If you were so done with this life, why are you willing to return for this guy?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “He needed help.”

“Y/N,” Kiean’s green irises begged, “If you’re willing to help someone you just met, can’t you help us? Help me?”

Kiean knew he was my weakness. He had always been there to save me from Kade’s hands. He protected me and kept me safe, despite how awful life was back in Canada. He was my best friend. He was my brother.

“We’re going to take down the Rule Maker,” He said firmly, standing up from the bed now.

“Excuse me?” I scoffed, a laugh almost escaping my lips from disbelief, “What?”

Kiean turned to the closer in the motel room, pulling out three fox head masks. Kiean’s, Kade’s, and…

“Yours,” Kiean said, holding up one of the masks. The silver paint glinted slightly from the flickering yellow motel light.

“We need your help, just this one last time. I promise we’ll leave your life for good if you help us.”

I stared at the mask, almost rolling my eyes, “And if I say no?”

The motel door opened, and I sucked in an anxious breath. Kade slammed the door, his expression furious as his sweat-stained hair hung over his forehead. My limbs warmed nervously as my lungs collapsed, air unable to escape.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away

Had he been listening this whole time?

“Then I’ll kill you, and your little fuck toy,” Kade seethed, lifeless orbs glaring in my direction.

Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

NOAH

It was the fear of the unknown that amplified the sense of vulnerability and helplessness I felt. Being at the mercy of someone else and unable to anticipate their next move, left me terrified and completely hopeless.

The blindfold that covered my vision left me anxious as my body thrashed back and forth from the restraints that tied my arms back, the metal cold against my skin. As I attempted to wiggle free the chains that held me swung against the chair, clanging in my ears. The wind whistled around the building I must’ve been in, causing me to shiver.

I screamed angrily, swinging aimlessly before the chair toppled over and I landed on the cement ground with a thud, the side of my head smacking into the pavement.

I didn’t necessarily believe in a God- but I prayed.

I prayed that Y/N was okay and that she knew I was sorry for everything.

I prayed that whatever happened to me, my brothers knew I loved them. That they knew how sorry I was that our lives were ruined because of me.

I prayed that they would be able to find the trail I left behind.

Old friends, same disease I can't get away from it Old friends, same as enemies

“There’s no way you pulled that pharmacy heist off by yourself,” Anger seeped through every word, every syllable.

“Who is she?”

I laughed, my body aching against the ground as I continued wrestling the chains, “You underestimating me?”

The man growled, pushing my face into the cement forcefully, causing me to laugh in resentment. Even through the blindfold, I could tell a snarle was embedded on his face.

“I stole your fucking car at fourteen. I can do anything I need to myself.”

“You sure about that?” I felt my body swing back up from the ground, two sets of hands sitting me upright in the chair.

“Who was wearing the Volto mask?”

I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself

“Fuck that I know,” I jeered, “What’s with the theatrics of all this?”

With my question ignored, I felt something cold and sharp press against my arm, “How do you know Y/N Y/L/N?”

I tried to not let my sarcastic smile fade at the mention of her name, “Who?”

“I’m not stupid boy,” The man yelled, a stinging warmth bolting up my arm, causing me to scream.

“Fuck!” I hollered, attempting to pull away, but I couldn’t move, nor see. Hands held my shoulders in place.

“I did some digging. You didn’t just break into her house, No,” he laughed, “No, you’ve been living there.”

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain

Why was he asking about the mask and Y/N?

My mind wandered back to Vincent, recalling our conversation days prior.

“Heads, you tell me about your little friend Y/N.”

My gaze narrowed and my fists clenched at the mention of her name. What did he want with Y/N?

“Tails, you tell me about your masked friend.”

Vincent said his boss wanted to know.

“So tell me,” I felt the blade dance across my skin, threatening, “Is she my missing mask?”

With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

RUFFILO

“So, who do you think Y/N is?” Folio asked as we walked down the street. We finally found another set of crumpled petals on the sidewalk past the cemetery, and have been following the road ever since.

“What does that mean?” My brows furrowed in his direction.

“Well,” He jeered, “The fact that two masked men chased us down, stole Y/N and now Noah, AND she is some badass hacking-heist guru? Doesn’t seem like some ordinary 9-5 barista if you ask me.”

I shrugged, “Well I don’t know. The only thing she ever mentioned to me was that she was running from who she used to be and that she was afraid we’d judge her.”

“She took us in without a thought,” Jolly piped in, “Maybe she had a similar lifestyle. No one would just take in a group of criminals.” He then stopped walking, reaching into his pocket.

Jolly stared at his screen confused, “Vincent?”

Putting the phone against his ear he watched us, a confused look glazing over his features. I stood closer to him, trying to listen in on the conversation. Jolly rolled his eyes, pushing me gently.

“Fuck you calling me for? I don’t have shit bro.”

“Yo, you know where Noah is? Did this asshole flake?”

“Why?” Jolly asked, “You were supposed to meet him?”

“Yea, he had more shit for me- didn’t show up at the ally. Thought that maybe I scared him off since the last time we talked.”

“Well, he didn’t show up because he’s fucking missing.”

“Missing? The hell you mean missing.”

“Missing as in we have no idea where the fuck he is, and we think he was kidnapped; so your deal’s gonna have to wait.”

“Wait- I think I know who may have taken him.”

Immediately I stepped back to share a look with Jolly and Nick. Did Vincent know the twins?

“Shit I gotta go. Meet me at the pier in 20.”

I heard the phone beep and Jolly stared at the screen in confusion, “Folio?”

Nick hummed, “What?”

“Did Noah ever use his first name when dealing with Vincent?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, shaking his head, “Pretty sure I told him to just go by Sebastian.”

Jolly shoved his phone back into his pocket, pushing past us and walking quickly down the street, “Seems to me Vincent may be more involved in this.”

+

We practically had to run to make it to the pier in twenty minutes since the cemetery was so far away, and travelling by foot was not ideal. It was windy and cold, the water droplets being swept up by the gusts of air slapping me in the face, causing me to shiver.

A man leaned against the pier, his arms resting over the wooden railing as he stared off into the water. He turned to face us, sharing a small smile as he stood up straight.

“Jolly? Folio?” He acknowledged them, and Jolly whistled in response.

“Strange seeing you unmasked.”

“Well, I’m not going to wear it where everyone can see us,” He threw his hood over his head, shielding himself from the wind.

“So what do you mean you think you know who took Noah?” I asked.

He looked at me, thick brows sitting heavily above his eyes, “Who are you?”

“Nicholas. Ruffilo.”

“Ah,” Vincent mumbled, “The one that convinced Jolly to stop selling to me in the first place all those years ago.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Jolly placed a supportive hand on my shoulder.

“It was a mutual agreement, Vince. You know why we stopped, we got a new boss.”

“Yeah, whatever,” He huffed, leaning against the railing once again, “Well speaking of bosses, I think mine took him.”

“Is your boss a set of twins that wear these stupid fox masks?” Nick asked.

Vincent laughed, raising a brow, “Uh, no. But that’s interesting.”

Jolly, Nick and I looked at each other. So who took him if it wasn’t the twins?

“Who is your boss?” I asked.

With a shrug, Vincent turned to look out at the water again, “I dunno. I’ve never met him before, and we only communicate through his little henchmen. We call him the Rule Maker.”

“The Rule Maker?” Jolly laughed for a moment, before his smile faded, “Wait you mean to tell me, THE Rule Maker?”

“Who is that?” I asked, feeling out of the loop.

Folio ran his hands through his hair, “Only like the biggest drug lord in North America.”

“Well, why would he kidnap Noah? We haven’t done much related to drugs in years, other than the past month”

Vincent shrugged, “I got asked a shit ton of questions the other day by one of his minions. He wanted to know about the person who did the heist with him, since the mask they were wearing belonged to the missing member of Fidelio.”

I glanced at Folio and Jolly briefly, catching their eyes.

“Fidelio- that was a drug syndicate in Canada, right?” Jolly asked.

Vincent nodded, “Yep. Guess that was the first time that mask was seen in months. Then my boss went on asking about some chick named Y/N Y/L/N.”

Now my eyes widened and I physically turned to my brothers, both matching my expression.

“Ah- so you do know her,” Vincent began.

“I mean-” Nick scratched his neck.

“Well, my boss knows her. He has been looking for her for years,” Vincent sighed, “So, Sebastian knows Y/N, and has a connection to the Volto mask. Yada yada, the boss wants answers that I couldn’t get out of Noah the other day. So he probably took him.”

I ran a hand over my face, groaning audibly. This is bad.

Jolly stared at me concerned, “Y/N is the missing member of Fidelio. The timeline would add up.”

Fuck.

“Interesting,” Vincent chimed in, “So it’s the same person. That girl is the mask.”

“Well, did your boss say how he knows her?” Nick questioned.

The dealer shook his head, “Nope. And I don’t know where Sebastian would be either- but I think that’s who took him.”

“Why are you helping us?” I said warily.

Vincent smiled, his grillz shining against the setting sun, “Well, he provided good business. I got paid well.”

“I don’t know how we are supposed to find him though,” Nick said, “We were following a trail of flowers for a bit.”

Wait… following…

“Oh my god,” I smacked my forehead in annoyance, “Our trackers!” I lifted my pant leg, showing it off to the boys.

I wasn’t sure how we didn’t realize it sooner, but Noah still had his tracker attached to his ankle. At least, I hoped.

“How are we supposed to track it? It was Y/N who had the system,” Jolly said.

“Noah’s number might still be on her laptop. It’s worth a shot.”

+++++

Y/N

“Where is your laptop?” Kade asked, sitting across the room. His back sunk into the chair as he glared at me.

“Why would I tell you?” I spat.

He snickered, running his fingers through his blonde locks, “Do you have a fucking death wish?”

I snarled at him, “It’s not my fault you didn’t lock down your system well enough. Figure it out yourself.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly expect you to stab me in the back and wipe everything from us.” He shared a pathetic, cold smile.

“Y/N,” Kiean pleaded, and I rolled my head to look at him. He sat on the other bed, eyes begging, “Just cooperate. Like I said, if you help we will leave your life forever.”

“How am I supposed to know that’ll happen?” I mocked, “You chased me and my friends, almost killed us in a car crash with guns, and fucking kidnapped me?”

The room was silent for a moment before Kade spoke up.

“I just want my fucking business back.” He growled, “So like I said, help me, or he is dead.”

I swallowed harshly, knowing that Kade’s threats were never empty. He always followed through with them, and I know he most certainly would kill him.

I didn’t want to help them… but I didn’t want to risk Noah’s life.

“It’s at my place,” I sighed.

Kade stood up, clapping his hands together, which caused me to close my eyes and flinch, “Then let’s go.”

+

We pulled up to my house in a car the Twins rented. I picked at the bandages that Kiean had wrapped around my wrists to prevent the wounds from getting infected, wincing.

As we sat outside the front my stomach churned, worried the boys would be there. As much as I wanted them to be, so they could get me out of this situation; I knew if they were, that they’d be in danger.

“Are your boyfriend’s minions home?” Kade spat, turning off the engine.

“How am I supposed to know, I’ve been held hostage.” I sneered.

Kiean shot me a look and I rolled my eyes before the three of us headed to the door.

Kade had taken my key and unlocked the house, stepping inside quietly. The twins listened for movement and I looked around, the boys’ shoes missing.

“I don’t think they’re home,” I said. The twins nodded to each other, following me up the stairs to my room. Juice mewed behind, following us.

Once we entered I went to my desk, pulling the laptop off the charger. I handed it to Kiean who opened it, prompting me to type in my password.

“So now what?” I asked just before the front door opened.

The twins glanced at each other, holding a finger to their lips and my breath quickened, listening to the voices of the boys. They were here.

“So where is her laptop?”

“Probably upstairs. C’mon.”

Was Noah here too?

The shuffle of various sets of footsteps ran up the stairs and as soon as Folio turned the corner he let out a surprised yelp when our eyes met briefly.

“Y/N!” He screamed, taking a step forward before Kade cocked his pistol, holding it straight ahead.

“What the fuck-” I heard Ruffilo and saw him peer behind the corner, his eyes widening once he saw me.

“Move, or I’ll shoot,” Kade threatened, gripping my wrist and I winced. I saw Folio and Ruffilo raise their hands in surrender and Kade pulled me out of the room, past the boys. However as we exited the room and I saw Jolly, I then made eye contact with someone I didn’t know- and there was no Noah to be seen.

I pulled against Kade as he tried prying me down the stairs, gun still pointed towards the boys.

“Wait-” I begged, causing Kade to stop, “Where’s Noah?”

As I stared up at Ruffilo from the stairs his gaze made my heart sink.

“He was kidnapped,” Ruffilo muttered.

“C’mon,” Kade spoke through gritted teeth, giving zero fucks about Noah. We reached the bottom of the stairs and Kiean pushed me softly toward the door.

“What?” I yelled back, complete worry taking over me, “By who?”

“The Rule Maker,” Jolly hollered back, and the twins stopped at the door, sharing a look.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

Chapter 9 coming soon

#burning out fanfic #sorrows of silence #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens smut

[thefiery-phoenix]

yandere Gun Park x f!reader (how he would deal with some assholes trying to catcall his girl? and how he would comfort her??) 🤨 the situation might be like she called him to pick her up at late night after having a party at a club w/her friends? thank you!

THE BLOOD ON HIS HANDS (YANDERE JONGGUN PARK X READER)

You weren't one to head out for clubs but you decided to make an exception this one time since it was your friend's birthday and you couldn't miss out on it since it would be rude and you didn't have the heart to disappoint your friend on her special day but you also promised yourself that you wouldn't drink. You were dressed in a knee length maroon dress that hugged your curves and left your hair open as you grabbed your black purse and the gift for your friend and put on your heels and made your way down to the club for the party. Your friend let out an excited squeal as she spotted you and enveloped you in a hug and you placed the gift on the table nearby while you surveyed the scene around you, the strobe lights made your head throb slightly but you ignored the feeling and you felt yourself getting lost in your thoughts, trying to ignore the chatter around you and the hustle and bustle

You wouldn't say you had a bad time either, you had fun dancing with your friends and you couldn't help but feel bashful and flustered after you finished your karaoke song and everyone around you clapped and cheered for you. Your friend cut her birthday cake and after a few light hearted conversations with your other friends, you decided you had enough fun for one night and you could feel your social energy draining out as you bade your friends goodbye and you decided to leave. Little did you know, just like how good things must come to an end, a horrid end was about to ruin your perfect night unbeknownst to you

You've always found comfort and solace in the night time, you liked the way the cool breeze felt around your skin as you looked up at the inky dark night sky shimmering with stars and your mind could form images of various constellations you'd read about a while ago as you hummed softly to yourself and continued to walk. While you were walking, you halted a few moments later as you stared at the large yellow board in front of you with the words 'Construction in progress' as you groaned in dismay and you realized you had to take another route through the alleyways which was an option you weren't overly fond of since it meant you'd take longer to reach home. Besides, you were sure Gun wouldn't be too pleased if you were back home later than the time you both agreed on as you sighed and decided to just suck it up and deal with it and you started making your way to the alleyways

While you walked, you spotted a few alcohol bottles strewn across on the ground and a few cigarettes on the ground as well as you scrunched up your nose in distaste and walked faster, your heart beat racing after every step. Your eyes landed on the 4 men sitting on their bikes a distance away from you in the alleyway, their words a bit slurred and looking like they were drunk as you gulped nervously and put your head down, hoping that they wouldn't pick on you if you just minded your own business and went on your merry way. "Well boys, look what we have here, a fine piece of meat...damn she's hot'' hollered one of the guys as the other guys laughed in response at his words and you cringed at his words but didn't say anything and continued to walk faster till someone got in front of you and blocked your path. "Where are you going cutie, you don't wanna spend time with us and get to know us? I'm hurt you know...'' said the guy in front of you and laughed mockingly as he leaned closer to you. You flinched and recoiled backwards and tried to step towards the other side till he blocked your path again and played with a strand of your hair and sniffed it with a lecherous look in his eyes

"Please let me go'' you whispered as you backed away from him till someone grabbed your arms from the back and pushed his face closer to your neck. "You smell so good...and such a pretty voice...wonder how pretty you'd look when you're under us, screaming our names...I bet you'd like that wouldn't you given the way you're dressed...it's like you're practically asking for someone to spend the night with you'' whispered the man as he chuckled darkly and you felt tears prick your eyes at his words and bile rising to your throat. Your hands reached into your purse and you quickly dialed Gun's number hoping he'd answer the phone before another guy ripped your purse away from you and threw it on the ground away from your reach. "Let's have some fun with no distractions, yeah? No one's going to hear you scream...'' he spoke maliciously as his eyes glinted with dark desire for you and you struggled in vain against the man who was holding you captive in his arms and tears flowed down your face freely

You remembered seeing Gun fight multiple times and you tried to replicate one of his moves which ended up in one of the men slapping you hard across the face and he held your cheeks harshly and grabbed your hair which made you wince in pain. "I'll show you what happens to dumb little girls like you who think they're too good'' he hissed as his hand darted out to tear your dress off and you shut your eyes and whimpered till you heard the sound of the same man letting out a sharp grunt of pain. Your mind was filled with confusion as you opened your eyes to see the man who slapped you now on the ground grunting in pain and clutching at his now broken hand as a familiar guy wearing a black suit and black glasses blended into the darkness of the night as he emerged from the shadows looking irritated

"GUN!" you cried out in relief, your heart soaring with joy after seeing him as his eyes momentarily softened when his gaze landed on you but after the whimpers of the man beneath him got on his nerves, he calmly lit a cigarette and stomped on the guy's head and back and glared at the guys around you. Another guy tried to attack him and went in for a punch when Gun just let out a disinterested hum and grabbed his arm and twisted it as the man fell on the ground wincing in pain. Gun then kicked his shins and kicked his jaw which rendered the man unconscious. One of them tried to run away in fear when Gun grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall repeatedly over and over again till his head dripped with blood and he fell down unconscious. The fourth guy whimpered and pleaded for mercy as he fell down to his knees pathetically sobbing but Gun let out a noise of discontent and disgust as he grabbed him by his hair. "You bastards actually had the audacity to lay your hands on MY woman...I don't show mercy'' he replied coldly as he twisted his neck the other side and the guy fell down on the ground. At this point you were pretty sure he wasn't breathing and the others were probably dead or something as Gun, to add insult for injury stubbed out his cigarette on one of their foreheads and stomped on their hands for a good measure before he made his way to you and his hands gently brushed against your cheek to dry your tears

"Don't worry love...I'm here..'' he whispered as his expression softened to see your scared and vulnerable state and brushed a few strands of hair from your face and pulled you close to him. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around you and kissed your head gently. "How...how did you even find me, I thought the call didn't go through'' you said and looked at him as he smirked at you in amusement. "You really think I'd let my girl walk through these streets with no help? I'm always watching your every move, that's why I told you it's better if I just lock you in my house and throw away the key so you won't get into situations like this...although I'm tempted to do it now. I'm not leaving you...ever'' he spoke as his voice was laced with the usual possessiveness he had for you and his grip on your wrist became tighter

You tried to walk when you let out a wince of pain and your face morphed into a grimace as he realized you hurt your foot. He immediately lifted you bridal style in his arms and you let out a squeak of nervousness. "It's fine, I can walk, I don't want to burden you'' you mumbled as he gave you a sharp glare. "You're NOT a burden and never will be. Now stop your silly protesting, I'm carrying you whether you like it or not. Your foot is injured so don't give me that I'm fine nonsense'' he replied sharply as you could feel your cheeks tinge slightly with a blush and you hid your face with your hands which he found rather endearing and he chuckled softly as he pecked a kiss to your cheeks before he made his way back to his residence

You took a nice warm shower and he motioned for you to come to bed with him as you climbed on the bed with him and he wrapped his arms around you firmly and he kissed your head. "Thanks for saving me'' you mumbled and leaned closer to his warm embrace, that spread warmth through your heart and made you feel safe and protected. "Of course, it's nothing you should be thanking me about...'' he replied and stroked your hair. He watched you drift off to sleep, his heart weighing heavily to see the tired and pained expression on your face because of the ordeal you had to go through today as he held you close to him, keeping you safe and sheltered in his arms. He wouldn't hesitate to kill for you again, his only regret was giving those fools a quick and fast death instead of a slow and agonizing one. But the next time someone would ever dare to mess with you, he wouldn't hesitate to grant them a slow painful death, besides, what's more blood on his hands going to do when he's already killed so many in your name and for the sake of your love and safety?

#yandere jonggun park x reader #yandere jonggun park #yandere gun park x reader #yandere gun park imagines #yandere gun park oneshots #yandere gun park scenarios #yandere gun park headcanons #yandere lookism characters x reader #yandere lookism characters #yandere lookism x reader #yandere lookism #dark lookism characters x reader #dark lookism characters #dark lookism x reader #dark lookism #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons