#like i’ve said before it’s easier to be alone in the end

[writingwithcolor]

Not all Second-Language Speakers are Made Equal.

@waltzshouldbewriting asked:

Hello! I’m writing a story that features a character who’s first language is not English. He’s East African, specifically from Nairobi, Kenya, and is pretty fluent in English but it’s not his primary language, and he grew up speaking Swahili first. I’m struggling to figure out if it’s appropriate or in character to show him forgetting English words or grammar. From what I’ve researched, English is commonly spoken in Nairobi, but it wouldn’t be what was most spoken in his home. For context, this is an action/superhero type story, so he (and other characters) are often getting tired, stressed, and emotional. He also speaks more than two languages, so it makes sense to me that it would be easier to get confused, especially in a language that wasn’t his first. But I’m worried about ending up into stereotypes or tropes. For additional context: I’m monolingual, I’ve tried to learn a second language and it’s hard. A lot of how I’m approaching this comes from my own challenges correctly speaking my own, first and only language.

Diversity in Second-Language English

You seem to have an underlying assumption that second language acquisition happens the same for everyone. 

The way your character speaks English depends on so many unknown factors: 

Where does your story take place? You mention other characters; are they also Kenyan, or are they all from different countries?

Assuming the setting is not Kenya, is English the dominant language of your setting? 

How long has your character lived in Kenya vs. where he is now? 

What are his parents’ occupations? 

What level of schooling did he reach in Nairobi before emigrating? 

What type of school(s) did he go to, public or private? Private is more likely than you think. 

Did his schooling follow the national curriculum structure or a British one? Depends on school type and time period. 

Does he have familiarity with Kenyan English, or only the British English taught in school? 

Is this a contemporary setting with internet and social media?

I bring up this list not with the expectation that you should have had all of this in your ask, but to show you that second language acquisition of English, postcolonial global English acquisition in particular, is complex. 

My wording is also intentional: the way your character speaks English. To me, exploring how his background affects what his English specifically looks like is far more culturally interesting to me than deciding whether it makes him Good or Bad at the language. 

L2 Acquisition and Fluency

But let’s talk about fluency anyway: how expressive the individual is in this language, and adherence to fundamental structural rules of the language.

Fun fact: Japanese is my first language. The language I’m more fluent in today? English. Don’t assume that an ESL individual will be less fluent in English compared to their L1 counterparts on the basis that 1) it’s their second language, or 2) they don’t speak English at home. 

There’s even a word for this—circumstantial bilingualism, where a second language is acquired by necessity due to an individual’s environment. The mechanisms of learning and outcomes are completely different. 

You said you tried learning a second language and it was hard. You cannot compare circumstantial bilingualism to a monolingual speaker’s attempts to electively learn a second language. 

Motivations?

I understand that your motivation for giving this character difficulties with English is your own personal experience. However, there are completely different social factors at play.

The judgments made towards a native speaker forgetting words or using grammar differently are rooted in ableism and classism (that the speaker must be poor, uneducated, or unintelligent). That alone is a hefty subject to cover. And I trust you to be able to cover that!

But on top of that, for a second language speaker, it’s racism and xenophobia, which often lend themselves to their own ableist or classist assumptions (that those of the speaker’s race/ethnicity must be collectively unintelligent, that they are uneducated or low class due to the occupations where they could find work, or conversely that they are snobby and isolationist and can't be bothered to learn a new language). Intersections, intersections.

If you want to explore your experiences in your writing, give a monolingual English speaker in your cast a learning disability or some other difficulty learning language, whatever you most relate with. And sure, multilingual folks can occasionally forget words like anyone else does, or think of a word in one language and take a second to come up with it in the other language. But do not assume that multilinguals, immigrants, or multiethnic individuals inherently struggle with English or with multiple languages just because you do.

~ Rina

#asks #accents #speech #language #languages #bilingual #bilingualism #ESL #immigration #east africa #african #writeblr

[curtsycream]

hiiiii

i saw your requests are open

Can you do poly price x reader x simon where they all get into an argument (Reader is lonely while they're deployed, she's not getting on their case, just expressing it) and the boys get really defensive and take it a little too far, resulting in reader staying in the guest bedroom for the night bc she doesn't wanna cry in bed next to them. The boys come to their senses and realize they fucked up and there's make up sex? Lots of reassurance and whispers of how much they love you?

Feel free to ignore, just figured I'd pop in :)

Could You Understand?

John Price x F!Reader x Simon Riley

My first COD request I hope I did right. I’m still getting down their personalities and such in writing but it’s a fun challenge. Kinda base level smut. Ps. Would never ignore ❤️

warning: mentions of anxiety (described?), light stomach bulging (I mention it twice I have a problem), double penetration, not proofread at all

Confrontation was never a strong point for her, the idea of accidentally starting a conflict made her cautious with her words. Nibbling at her lower lip she adds the final dish to the washer before closing it. Turning it on she leans against the counter with folded arms. Many times has this feeling of loneliness crossed her mind. Whenever they were gone it was a constant reminder of the fear she felt. She always found herself holding back the words. But it was as if a dam finally broke and she couldn’t help but let them spill.

Making her way into the living room she wraps her arms around herself. It was a first defense similar to showing a dog that you’re not a threat. Her eyes fall onto the two men she loved with all of her being. They sat together with the television on but it was clear they weren’t entirely focused on it. They spoke in rushed tones as if forgetting the rule of leaving work at work. It wasn’t much but it was enough to ensure they wouldn’t dwell on work-related stuff.

Clearing her throat she realized just how hard it was to speak up. It was an odd feeling as she usually found herself talking without much of an issue. When they turned to look at her the words felt stuck, unable to claw their way out of her throat. “We need to talk,” she finally uttered. The words felt hard and cold when she said them.

John was the first to speak though the way his eyebrows creased seemed to verify his confusion. “About what, sweetheart?”

The gruffness of his voice was enough to make her hold the subject off. To instead crawl into his lap and give him a kiss or two. But she knew that wouldn’t solve anything let alone reassure her.

Simon on the other hand said nothing but his eyes were focused on her. And that was enough, it was always the simple things with him. His attention was always undivided, “well..I’ve been thinking a lot while you were both deployed. I just feel alone, you know? It terrifies me knowing you’re both out there and not knowing if that’s the mission that will end with me living my life without you. I—I’ve spent so many nights worried about how or if you’ll make it back to me. Maybe I’m just thinking too much on this but I can’t help but think that way. It’s like my brain won’t allow me to think positively. Like there’s this sense of impending doom when nothing bad is really happening,” she explained.

It was silent for a moment that is until Simon scoffed, the sound seemed to echo in her mind. “And you think it’s any easier on our end having to leave you here? It’s not a friendly thought knowing we’re miles away while you’re here by yourself,” his tone was defensive. It was as if he assumed her words were to evoke a change or start an argument.

“I’m not denying that Simon, I just get so worried that-”

“We understand that you get worried sweetheart, but we can’t change our profession. We spend just as many nights worrying about whether we’ll make it back or not. We have to live through that not you,” John spoke up.

Whether he meant to or not his words seemed to cut her deeper. It was as if her attempt at getting through to them was blocked off by their defense. “I know I don’t have to live through that, but it still worries me when you leave this house. I feel so helpless for lack of a better word when I know you’re miles away and I can’t help.”

Simon shook his head, “how would you even help? You can’t help, you can barely help yourself.”

His words were sharp like that of a knife willingly piercing her heart. Maybe that’s why it hurts more hearing words like that from someone you love.

“I’m not trying to argue with either of you, I wanted to get my point across,” she said simply.

“Then why even bring this up, you always dance around what you’re feeling. We’re not mind readers, there is only so much we can do when you won’t even say what you feel. It’s exhausting,” The words left John's mouth without much of a thought.

Opening her mouth she closes it, her eyes flashing with hurt from their words. “I know you’re both probably just tired from your mission and that’s why you’re acting like this. Just forget I said anything,” she tells them.

She had walked away quicker than she meant to not wanting to say another word to them. She knew deep down if she had she would have started crying.

Placing her hands on her chest she holds back the tears that are brimming in her eyes. She holds off until she makes it into their guest room upstairs. The second she closes the door she lets out a low sob. Sitting down on the bed she wraps her arms back around herself. It was a horrible feeling as if she’d been yelled at. Having people you love downplay your emotions when you finally speak upon them.

Lying down on the bed she curls up her arms still wrapped around her. It was as if she was protecting herself from what was already done. Sobs racking her body as she found no use in calming down.

It wasn’t until they made their way upstairs later into the night that they realized. Simon assumed she would be in bed, their bed. Yet the absence of her presence in the room was like a punch to the gut. His eyes found John’s in the darkness as they stood in the space.

They didn’t have to think before they made their way towards the guest room. The door ajar allowing John to slowly push it open. There she was in the middle of the guest bed curled up. She looked smaller than she should have as if closing in on herself.

John to a step forward which turned into a few then a few more before he was sitting on the bed beside her. His hand cupping her cheek, wet with tears, “Sweetheart..” The utterances of the pet name seemed to work as her eyes opened slowly. Groggy from crying so much as well as sleep she stared at him. It was easy to tell that was what she was doing in the darkness. The tears not yet split made that easy to notice.

With crossed arms, Simon makes his way over to him, “We shouldn’t have—I should have said those things to you.”

She seemed to perk up, it was a first for Simon to say something like that. Not that she expected him to do so often but it was refreshing. “It’s fi-“

“It’s not fine, the things we said to you were uncalled for. You didn’t deserve any of that especially when all you wanted to do was express your feelings. We took our frustration from the mission out on you,” John told her. His thumb caressed her cheek a touch she leaned into without hesitation.

“You do so much for us even when you don’t think you do. Most don’t expect to be greeted at home with a smile and a warm meal. You do everything you can to make sure we’re okay. It’s time we do the same,” Simon says.

Sitting up a bit she looks between the two men with a puzzled look. She didn’t catch on until she had John’s lips on her own. The smell of tobacco and pinewood was strong as she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was comforting yet sensual as she felt Ghost behind her. His lips feverishly trailing kisses along her neck and shoulders.

Her mind seemed to move slower than her actions which was evident when she found herself naked between them. Her hands rested on John’s chest as he lined himself up with her sopping-wet hole. Eager wouldn’t describe what she was feeling especially when he finally thrusted into her. He was always attentive and careful at first, “how’s that feel, sweetheart?”

The words didn’t come but a simple nod followed by a moan was enough for him. Resting his hands on her hips he set a slow and steady pace. One that seemed to draw on the moans leaving her body. “Still so tight for me,” he grunted against her warm skin.

The gentle touch along her spine was enough to remind her of Simon’s presence. The way he was looking down at her caused her to squeeze around John’s cock. A swear left the older man’s lips due to the feeling. Keeping her eyes on Simon she spoke up, “want to feel you both..”

It was new territory something she hadn’t done before. But she wanted to be closer to them in a way soft touches wouldn’t do. “Are you sure, lovie?”

She nodded her head right away at Simon’s words as he seemed to be silently communicating with John. Looking between them she waited for an answer as John continued to thrust in and out of her.

“Okay.”

That was all Simon needed to say before she leaned against John. Her arms were around his neck while her fingers curled around the hair at the base of his neck. Simon held her hip as he pumped himself in his hand before lining himself up with her stuffed hole. It was already a tight fit with John’s cock inside. Willing himself forward he groaned when his cock began to slide inside of her pussy.

Digging her nails into John’s back she muffled her noises on his shoulder. “That’s it sweetheart, such a good girl wanting to take both of us.”

John’s words seemed to calm her down as she felt him pull out some to allow Simon room to fit. She wasn’t fully prepared when she felt both of them inside of her. Neither of them moved, letting her adjust to the new feeling. Resting her hand on her stomach she moved it a bit lower feeling the bulge there. The subtle reminder of just how big John was in girth.

“Oh—please move..” her voice was a gasp barely above a whisper. She had never felt so full before, but oh did it feel perfectly right. Moving his hands up to cup her breasts Simon thrusted into her. At the same time, John pulled out before slamming himself back in.

Groaning from the feeling of John’s cock rubbing against his own as her pussy squeezed them tightly left Simon on edge. “Feels so good,” he breathed the words out.

Her mouth opened letting out a flurry of moans as their paces varied. While John was moving steadily, Simon’s pace was almost erratic. “Fuck—just like that,” she begged no one in particular.

Yet her words seemed to set both men off as they moved in tandem. Their pace seeming to match both went faster pistoning their cocks in and out of her. “So good for us lovie, always so good for us.”

The words of affection caused her to whimper before she felt his lips on hers. The kiss was dragged out and slow only fueled by John’s lips on her throat. The light prickles of his beard on her skin were comforting in a way. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Always so caring and sweet for the both of us,” John’s voice vibrated against her soft skin.

She knew she wouldn’t last long from their affectionate words to their unyielding thrusts. Breaking the kiss between herself and Simon she whines, “So close, please.”

“Please what, lovie?”

The teasing tone he took on made her clench around their cocks. The action caused both men to groan as their cocks rubbed against her gummy walls. “Please let me cum, I’ll be good..”

“You’re always good, sweetheart,” John assured.

“Go ahead, lovie.”

She didn’t need to hear more as her eyes screwed shut. Her mind felt fuzzy as the warmth in her lower stomach began to spread. Gripping John’s shoulders she let out a cry as she came around their cocks with a tremble. However, they didn’t stop not yet at least as they were chasing their highs. To her, it felt like minutes but it only took seconds before they reached their own. Gripping her hips firmly John thrusted his hips up before releasing inside of her. Simon wasn’t too far behind as his cum mixed with that of John’s and hers.

Sighing breathlessly she shifted her eyes to the bulge in her stomach she had forgotten about. She could still see the outline of John’s cock against her lower stomach. But it didn’t last long as she felt both men pull out of her. Leaning back on Simon she watched as John left the room. Her eyes were concentrated on his back before they trailed to Simon.

“Lovie I-“

Shaking her head she leans up her lips pressed against his shoulder. “I’m fine, I guess I just worry a lot when you’re both not here. It’s scary to think something can happen on a mission and I wouldn’t know for a while until the mission ends.”

Simon noticed how shaky her voice was as if the thought of them getting hurt lingered in her mind. Placing his hands on her cheeks he leaned forward until his nose was touching hers. “It is scary, I couldn’t imagine having to stay home and wait for us to return. But I can promise you this, with everything in us we will always try our hardest to get back home to you. That’s how much you mean to us,” his words melted into her mind.

Keeping her eyes focused on his own she nodded her head, “I know you guys will. You always do and I’m grateful for that.”

“And we’re grateful for you,” John chimed in as he walked back into the room. He went straight to her using the towel in his hand to clean her up before pressing a kiss to her stomach. “We will always be grateful for you, I couldn’t picture myself loving anyone else besides the two of you.”

It was comforting to hear words like that from the men she loved. “I love you,” she said her words directed to both men. Pulling her close Simon kisses her forehead as he lays behind her. In front of her was John who also delivered a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid to tell us when you’re worried or scared. We promise to think before we speak,” John’s words reassured her.

The same way that Simon’s touch did as his thumb rubbed her hip. “I love you, now get some sleep it’s almost four in the morning.”

That was all it took before she was closing her eyes allowing the feeling of both men beside her to lull her to sleep. She felt safe and protected between them, no longer as fearful as she was before.

#poly!reader #x reader #fluff #poly fanfic #cod 141 #cod smut #cod x reader #john price #price x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #simon riley smut #john price smut #ghost smut #captain price smut #poly 141

[benedictscanvas]

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you��re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso x reader

[mae-gi-writes]

rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

#Minho #minho xo kitty #minho x reader #minho imagines #xo kitty #xo kitty netflix #xo kitty imagines #kitty song covey #lee minho #xo kitty series #xo kitty minho #min ho x reader #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop drabbles #romcom #angst #enemies to lovers #min ho x kitty #xokittyedit

[wandaslittlelove]

Destined - Part 0

Warnings: Cheating, mentions of death

The rain poured as I stared out the window. It had been almost two weeks since I had seen Wanda and about a month since my sister had sacrificed herself for a stone.

When I came back from the blip it felt like seconds had passed but really it had been five years. In those five years my sister was alone. Grieving my loss. Then when I came back and found out she was gone I was grieving hers. It seemed as if neither of us could ever get a happy ending. 

Being devastated by the loss my immediate thought was Wanda. Was she okay? Where is she? But I knew it all had to wait for after the battle against Thanos. I saw Wanda many times on the battlefield and tried to go to her but each time she would move away from me.

After the battle I sat in front of Tony Stark. The many who had been like another sibling to me for years. He was gone. I held Peter's crying figures in my arms that day as he cried for his mentor. Yet another family member had been taken from both of us.

Tony’s funeral is the last time I’ve seen Wanda. The last time I held her in my arms and the last time I was held in hers. I was told she stole Vision's body and had taken over a town called Westview to create her Perfect family. 

I was devastated at hearing this. First my sister dies, then Tony, and now Wanda has run off with the corpse of a man she had always reassured me she never liked. 

So I moved. I stayed in the compound as I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Natasha's room had become a safe haven along with the gray tabby.. A little gray tabby that enjoyed cuddles. Cinder was her name and she was the one thing that was currently keeping me grounded.

That was until Wanda came bursting through my front door with rain dripping down her body. A Pained expression on her face as she held her side. We both said nothing as I moved to quickly inspect her injury and when I saw it was just a couple of bruised ribs I let out a sigh of relief.

She was the one that talked first. She told me of Westview and how a woman named Agatha Harkness came for her magic and that's how she got the bruises. She told me of her boys, Tommy and Billy, and how they were the perfect kids. I listened silently as my ex Fiance told me all about the fantasy life she had created with a Robot. And I said nothing as she told me that she missed me. Nothing as she told me why she did it. And once again Nothing as she told me of the countless nights she spent with the man I had always been insecure about.

“So I just came to say that it would work out better if you stopped loving me. I’ve done so many things to hurt you. I cheated on you for two years. So please forget me.”

“So I'm not allowed to love you anymore?” I asked with my head turned away from wanda. Ever since Westview was created and she chose vision instead of me we had been arguing non stop.

“That's not what I'm saying!” I look at Wanda with a stone face not wanting to show her how much she's hurting me.

“Really? Because I believe the words ‘it would work out better if you stopped loving me’ mean that.” Wanda looks at me annoyed before she speaks

“I'm just saying it would be easier”

“For who? Me or you” the silence from wanda is all the information I need. With a scoff I pick up my bag before walking to the front door. 

“Knowing that you chose a robot over your fiance really says a lot about you Wanda. You created a whole life with someone you had claimed to barely know while I was grieving the death of my sister. And when it all came crashing down you run back to me. I don't want that. I don't want you. I stopped loving you as soon as you ran into his arms” as i exited the place that had once been my home the tears had finally started to fall. Although they weren't out of sadness.

I was free. Finally free…or that's what I thought 4 months ago. 

Until suddenly Wanda was trying to kill a child for her magic. Until Dr. Strange came to my door asking for help. And Until I found out our destinies would forever be linked.

Taglist: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #dark wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #mcu wanda maximoff #scarlett witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda x fem reader #wandavision #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda mom #wanda maximoff mom #mom wanda #mcu wanda #wanda mcu #avengers wanda #avengers #wanda avengers #mcu #marvel wanda #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff marvel #natasha romanoff x reader

[ghostlywhiskey]

Simon “Ghost” Riley - Love of My Life (Simon’s POV)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,012

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ☆ grinding, fingering, spitting, unprotected sex - If anything else let me know - I'm slightly brain dead writing this.

Summary: Simon comes to your apartment to end things between you.

A/N: Fueled by the song that is my top song of all time on Spotify tee hee. Babies…we know the drill. My proofreading is always little to none. This one took forever because I struggled writing the smut for this, but cheers xoxo.

find my masterlist here

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

“Hey.” My voice sounds so fucking small and pathetic standing in the doorway of her apartment, hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Hey.” She repeats, moving out of the way to let me walk inside.

Somehow trying to breathe while getting waterboarded is easier compared to trying to breathe with the tension in the air between us. 

Walking inside, I kick my shoes off as she closes the door and walks toward her room. Quietly following her it feels like walking with a ball and chain around both ankles. My body is trying to prevent me from going into her room because it’s trying to reject what it already knows. 

She sits down on her bed and I shrug off my jacket, letting it hang off the back of her desk chair as I sit down on it. The silence hangs over us, she’s looking down at her hands. The way she fidgets with her rings indicates she’s nervous. It’s my fault, I’m the one who told her we had to talk. 

“An-” Stopping myself before I say ‘angel’. Not the time. Never again actually. She glances up at me, chuckling softly. “Well, that gives me an idea of where this is going.” The sound of her voice lower than normal, sadness weighing down her vocal cords. The thing is, I can’t even deny her comment. Part of me wants to just say, ‘No, angel. Don’t assume that. We’re fine.’ - but, it would be a fucking lie if I did.

“This would be the part where you disagree with what I’m thinking.” Shaking my head, my eyes meet hers. “But the other part you know I’m going to agree with.” I point out, quickly shooting down any hope as if it was an enemy target. “Then just say it, dammit.” Something snaps in her, I’m the reason for it.

I’m also the reason she lays awake crying when I’m away on missions. The reason she doesn’t have a normal boyfriend who can see her more often than not. The reason she’s left anxious when I don’t reply to a text or a call in a certain amount of time. The reason she feels more alone despite having a man who has loved her more than anything in this life. I wish I didn’t live up to the name ‘Ghost’ when it comes to her, but it’s the one mission I’ve failed.

“I’m letting you go.” The only words I’m able to get out. Because there isn't anything else to say, to me it is as simple as that. She blinks a few times, processing the four words that left my mouth. “Letting me go?” She re-states, confirming what I just said. “Yeah.” I’m detaching my emotions from my words. 

I take you with me every time I go away

The polaroid sat snug between my fingers. It’s replaced the pack of cigarettes I’d once itch to reach for and drag ‘til it was time for another. How is a little image the only thing that relieves any ounce of stress in my body? From one addiction to another, somehow this one feels a lot  deadlier. If only she was as accessible as a pack of cigarettes. She tastes a hell of a lot sweeter between my lips that's for sure. Maybe that’s why this addiction is worse - having a taste every now and then has me crawling back home for more. 

Fuck this shit. I’m fucked. 

Soap nudges my arm, my attention pulled from the drug of choice in my hand. “Is that who I ‘tink it is?” He questions me. The bloody Scot knows the answer to his question. “Oi, why you asking questions you know the answer to?” A grin forms on his face. “Never thought I’d see ‘da day you look fuckin’ smitten is all. Even behind the mask it’s obvious.” And thank fuck for the mask or he’d see I look like I’ve got the worst sunburn of my life. 

“You and me both it seems.” My attention went back to the polaroid, now held between my thumb and pointer finger. Brushing my thumb across the picture of her is like opening flood gates for my mind to imagine she’s right here. As if brushing my thumb over it would have her appear like a genie from a bottle. 

If only it were that fucking easy. 

I remember back at Johnny's place, it's not the same anymore

“Johnny, I’m not a party person.” I state into his ear as I’m trying to leave his apartment. The apartment had slowly filled with people for his birthday, but I was ready to jump out the window. “No, you’ve got to stay!” He protested, putting an arm around my neck. I huff, glancing at him. “One more hour and I’m gone.” Smiling wide, he cheered. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” 

“I need a fuckin’ drink.” The words coming out of my mouth as I walk to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. A girl sits on the counter, a cup in her hand as she stares at the crowd of people filling the living room. She looks uncomfortable, but that isn’t my problem. I grab a plastic cup, pouring some whiskey. 

“Are you a dad?” Her voice fills the kitchen. A dad? My brows furrow, turning to look at her. “The whiskey. That’s your drink of choice?” She asks, glancing at the cup before her eyes meet mine. “What?” The confused tone laced in my words. “All the old men in my life drink whiskey.” She slides off the counter, walking over to me. “Well, I’m not in your life. Or old.” I huff, glancing at her cup and nod towards it. “What’s your drink of choice?” 

She smiles, turning the cup upside down over the sink. “Nothing, just pretending.” She chuckles. “I’m the driver tonight since I didn’t even want to be here.” Well, that makes two of us. “You know Soap?” Her expression turns into a confused one, quickly correcting my mistake. “I mean John.” Only then does she nod. “My friend is seeing him, which is why I’m here in the kitchen hiding out. I don’t know anyone out there.” Now, I can’t help but smile. “Mind if I hide with you in here?” I chuckle, sipping the whiskey. 

“If you drink that whiskey, absolutely I mind. But I guess you’re in my life now, so you get a pass.” She teases.

It's unfortunate, ooh Just coordinates, ooh

“Hi, Simon.” Her voice easing every tense muscle in my body, coming undone like a child ripping a Christmas present open with urgency. “Hi, angel.” Responding to her as I hold the phone between my ear and shoulder, sitting down on the bed to undo my boots. “How was your day?” 

“Hmm,” She hums, the sound of her shifting in her sheets fills my ear as I wait for the response. “It was okay, nothing exciting.”

“Where are you this time?” She’s forcing herself to stay awake, I can hear it in her voice. Moments like this I feel selfish having her in my life. Is it selfish? Selfish to love someone who hears your voice over a phone more than they hear it raw and undistorted face-to-face. It has to be. “Mexico. It’s hot a shit.” I mutter, kicking my boots off. Her giggle on the other end puts the first smile on my face today. “What’s so funny, huh?” My brows furrow, grabbing the phone as the floor becomes the fixation of my gaze. The giggle fading as she starts to speak, “I think it’s funny I’m more concerned of you getting heat stroke with that damn mask than anything else.”

“No need to be concerned.” A stupid, dopey smile forms on my face despite how stern my voice sounds. “Easier said than done.” Her response is quick, no thought behind it or second guessing it. A sigh escapes my lips,  “Angel, I mean it. Don’t be concerned.” My eyes wander around the room as I wait for her reply. Why is she so quiet all of a sudden? “Angel?”

“Yeah? Sorry, I zoned out for a second.” The sound of her sniffle followed by a nervous laugh tells me enough. She couldn’t hide her emotions if her life depended on it. “Please don’t cry.” My own voice is strained, every time she gets upset I feel worse about having her in my life. “Don’t tell me what to do, Lieutenant.” She teases, but her laugh this time just sounds sad. My upper body falls back against the mattress as I stare up at the ceiling. “Too bad. I’m telling you what to do.” 

“Simon?” How do I tell her I want to hear her say my name for the rest of my life? “Yeah, baby?” I responded. “I miss you.” Fuck. My throat feels like someone is tightening a rope around it. Why can’t they just fucking cut my air supply off while they are at it? 

The rope loosens, the air coming back into my lungs as I inhale and exhale out. “I miss you too.” My free hand runs down my face, dragging down to rest itself on my chest. “I’ll be home soon, yeah? Then it will just be us. How does that sound?” The thump beneath my fingers intensifies. Closing my eyes for a moment, I focus on the heartbeat. The thought of her next to me. Hiding us from the world in the confines of my apartment walls. I’m not a religious man, but that sounds like heaven. Would God let me in? Would he let me stay? I’m not deserving of either option. But, I’m getting on my knees and fucking praying for at least a few moments.

“It sounds like a plan to me.” Finally, I can tell she’s smiling again on the other side of the phone. 

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

I think standing on the edge of a cliff would ignite less anxiety in me than sitting on the edge of her right now. The familiarity of being close to death is far more comforting than the unfamiliarity of breaking my own heart so she can live life finding the love she deserves. My legs spread as my elbows rest on my thighs, running my hands through my hair. 

We’ve been going back and forth arguing about breaking up for the past hour now. “So, that’s it?” Her voice punched me back into reality as I looked at her across the room. Her arms crossed as she leaned against her desk.

No. I don’t want it to be. But, I can’t be selfish. You deserve better. 

“That’s it.” I confirm her question, the words coming out of me and taste as bitter as vomit. Except I want to swallow the vomit back up. My eyes go back down to the floor between my feet, scared if I look back at her I’ll swallow the vomit back up. And I can’t.

Her breathing is soft in the dark bedroom, it’s the only sound mixed with my own breathing. And the blood I hear pumping through my body at an alarming rate. “Could I have done anything differently that would have avoided this?” 

God dammit, angel. You were never the problem. 

“Stop that. Don’t think for a second you’re to blame.” Just look at her, stop looking at the floor, dickhead. “Look me in the eyes and say that then.” Her voice strained, my head tilted up to look at her. Sighing, I push myself off the bed, jumping off the cliff. In a few steps, I’m standing in front of her. My hand slips past her neck, slipping behind her head as my fingers tangle in her hair. 

Gently, the hand tugs her hair gently for her to look up at me. “I’m lookin’ at you and I’m tellin’ you that you couldn’t have done anything.” It feels like her eyes are peeling every layer of me back, trying to look for any sign that I’m regretting this deep down. “You’re never gonna get what you deserve from me.” The sound of my voice breaking at the end is the first time I’ve let it show emotion tonight. The tears slowly built up in her eyes, my gaze locked on her. She knows I’m right. Again, it’s just something she doesn’t want to admit. “Simon.” Her voice breaks the same time the first tear slides down her cheek.  

My hand slips from behind her head, both of them moving to cup her face. “Angel.” I finally just pull the fucking bandaid off and say my nickname for her after avoiding it this entire time. My head leans down to rest my forehead against hers, her own hands moved to my face. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me.” She begs. Thumbs wiping her tears as they cascade down. “I need to, angel. I need to.” I don’t want to, but I never deserved you. The gentle tug of my head caused by her hands, lips connecting with mine. 

She tastes so sweet between my lips, just how I always remember she tastes. But this time it’s mixed with the salty taste of her tears. 

She steps forward, causing me to step back. She keeps walking until my legs hit the bed, my body accepts the fact I can’t move back anymore and drops down to it. Pulling her onto my lap, her arms snake around my neck. The kiss never breaks. I think we’re both scared that if we stop that one of us will try to convince the other we can’t do this. My hands slip under her shirt, one on her waist while the other reaches behind her to unclasp her bra.

My hand stops as my fingers graze the clasp. Don’t do it. Fucking hell, don’t. The tips of my fingers rubbing the clasp to get a feel for it, like I’m trying to pick a lock. The wings of the bra separating as my fingers unclasp the hook. Successfully, the lock has been picked. Once undone, my hands move to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. Only then do our lips separate to let the shirt pass through and give us a chance to catch our breaths. We aren’t scared this time to separate, knowing we won’t stop each other. As I pull her shirt off, she slides the bra straps down her arms and flings it to the floor. 

While we are separated, I take the opportunity to remove my own shirt. Our clothes started to pile on the floor as we discarded them. Her chest pressing against mine as she moves back in to kiss me, her hips moving against me. Her skin is always so cold, it sends chills up my spine when it comes in contact with my own. My hands slip down to her hips, grabbing them as I help her move against me back and forth.

The only sound besides our kisses are the soft groans building in my throat, my pants becoming a straight jacket against my crotch the longer she grinds against me. “Get rid of the fucking clothes, fuck.” I mutter against her lips, pushing her off my lap as she stumbles to catch her balance. Reaching back out to pull her to stand between my legs, hands on either side of her thighs, running them up to the waistband of her leggings. My head leaning in to place kisses on her stomach, glancing up at her. Her own hands glide through my hair before she gently tugs, another groan leaving my as I pull the leggings down along with her panties. 

It’s shitty for me to give into this. I know it is. It opens the door for us to forget about the conversation we just had, but I’m not forgetting it. I’m leaving after this.

Fingers gently graze her core, her heat radiating as I spread her folds open. My own palm faces me as her already wet cunt is begging for something to clench around as my ring and index finger rub back and forth between her folds. “Always so f’ckin’ ready.” Our eyes are not moving to look away from each other as her hands tug my hair to keep me looking up at her. “Stop teasing. Please.” She begs, her thighs trying to squeeze together but my knee moving to keep her legs separated. “You know how much I like to see you dripping before I even fuck you.” She whines at my response, but it amplifies louder as the two fingers push into her. Her knees slightly bend, causing a chuckle to escape my lips. “Weak at the knees, are you?” Teasing, I kiss her stomach again. “Ngh..” She groans, her hand reaching to grab my wrist. 

Not fighting her back, she pulls my hand away, fingers already coated in her juices. I love how responsive her body is for me. Good luck to the next bastard who has to try and compete with the memory I leave her body with.

As she pulls my hand away, I tug it out of her grasp, slipping the fingers into my mouth to clean. A soft hum against my fingers. So sweet. Once satisfied, my pants are pulled down and I stand up to shrug them off my ankles. Both completely bare now, my arms move to pick her up to move her onto her bed. Hovering over her as she lays on the bed, I push her legs apart and settle between her legs. Like muscle memory, her legs bend slightly and lift to rest her heels on my lower back. 

Supporting myself up, my palms rested by her forearms, but one hand moved to rest over her mouth for a brief moment. “Spit.” And just like the good girl she is, she spits on my palm as some of it drips down her chin. My palm coming up to my mouth as I also spit on it before reaching down to pump my cock. Guiding it to her folds, the tip teases her as I move my cock with my hand to slide between her folds and move side to side to tease her. Her whine again fills my ears, a smirk turns my blank expression into a mischievous one. “Say what you want.” Another order directed to her, her hips lift slightly as she grabs my forearm with one hand. “Fuck me, Simon.” All I needed to hear right now, fuck the teasing is the only thought in my head as I position myself. My hand dropped back to her side as I held myself up and thrusted into her. 

Her initial cry out from the pressure filling her always sends me over the edge. I swear it might be enough to make me fill her right then and there most times. “Perfect fuckin’ fit.” I grumble, my head leaning down to kiss her. Her lips meet mine before I even make it all the way down to her, her hand reaching around my head to pull me closer. The moans from her echoing into my head as she kissed me. Palms now fisting the sheets in my hands, my hips thrust into her roughly. 

Rough and slow - just how she likes it. Finding a rhythm, I stick to it and hold for a few moments every time my hips meet her skin. Burying myself in her like I’m digging my grave, except this won’t be my final resting place. I pull from the kiss, looking down at her. “Eyes on me, got it?” She nods, her eyes only closing for a moment as I thrust into her again and drag out slowly before repeating my thrust just as my tip is on the edge of losing contact with her. She whimpers, and I grab her face in my hands. “Eyes.” I hiss, her eyes opening immediately to stare at me. Her lips spread open slightly as she pulls in oxygen and exhales a moan. My grip on her face releasing, her lips parting more now that she can let air in and out easier now. “Simon.” Her voice drags out the ‘-on’, my eyes watching her as she moans my name. “You sound like an angel, you know that? You say my name like it’s a prayer.” Except I can’t answer her prayers, and I know tonight they revolve around hoping I stay.

Her cheeks look like pink paint has spilled over them, she’s never been one to blush at actions, but she acted as if my words were the sweetest thing she ever heard. “You’re so gorgeous.” My voice is barely a whisper, but it’s quickly covered by a groan as I feel her pulsating around my cock. The way her hands cup my face as my own eyes close, now she demands my eye contact to stay on her. “I love you, Simon.” She chokes out as my eyes open and look at her.

My pupils are already larger to adjust to the dark room, but I’m damn near positive they must look blown out when she says those words. I can’t say it back. We’ve never said it out loud. I’m not saying it now. So, I lean down to kiss her instead, a hand reaching down to grab her waist as I push both of us closer to climaxing. My lips pull from hers as I move town to her neck, kissing her skin. I can’t look at her now.

“I-I’m…Simon…more.” She begs, her arms wrapping around me, her nails dig into my back. Another hiss leaves my mouth as I feel her nails dig into my skin as I kiss her neck. “Angel.” I groan, my thrusts getting sloppy. The hand on her waist moves to her lower abdomen, pushing gently. Time to finish her off.

The squishing noises fill the room as she cries out from her climax that hits her. My own following after as I pull my head from her neck and look at her head leaning back in pleasure. My thrusts go until I feel the last bit of cum spill into her, pulling out of her and collapsing on the bed next to her.

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind Don't know where you'll land when you fly

The room is quiet, her soft breathing tickling my chest as she sleeps peacefully. My eyes are looking up at the ceiling as I try to shut off my brain and the pros and cons list forming in my head if I stay. I need to leave.

Glancing at her sleeping, I closed my eyes for a minute. Am I preparing myself to leave or remembering the image of her like this? Who am I kidding, I’ll remember her face for the rest of my life. Opening them again, my body carefully slips out of the bed. She stirs slightly, but just rolls over on her other side as she pulls the blankets closer to her body. 

Collecting my discarded clothes, I re-dress myself after the events of the night. My feet quietly walk to the edge of the bed her body is facing, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “For the best.” I whisper, standing back up straight. She doesn’t move awake, but a soft smile forms on her face while she sleeps.

Fuck. I need to get out of here. And with that, I slip out of her room and the apartment. My hands are buried in my jacket pockets as I take the elevator down, eyes fixated on the doors. I’m breaking her heart, but it doesn’t mean mine is breaking any less. I love her.

But, baby, you were the love of my life

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #call of duty #simon riley cod #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon riley angst

[takaminevaeh]

The winner of the poll is…~

soft!dom deku x sub!fem reader!

I’ll post another poll later tonight to see who’s next… I really thought todobaku was gonna win but I guess not lol!

I’ve decided to include the whole part and not just split the aftercare, just because it’s easier for me AND sometimes the aftercare is too short to put it into its own post.

soft!dom deku x sub!fem reader

cw// dom!/sub! dynamic (izu’s a huge pleasure dom), heavy teasing, praise, oral sex (f! receiving), edging, slight overstim, cum eating, slight subdrop, aftercare

You ask and you shall receive…~

Ever since we were kids, I was hopelessly in love with Izuku Midoriya.

The way he would hug me so tightly, squishing his cheeks against mine.

Even as we got older, the cuddling never ended.

Once we graduated from high school, we started to become distant.

He was always busy.

I watched his saves on the news, biting my nails as I sat on the edge of my seat.

It wasn’t until the night that my apartment complex was attacked that I finally saw him again.

I was barely conscious the first time, but the parts I remember…

He was panicking.

I vaguely remember his panicked voice bouncing around my head… telling me I’d be okay.

That he’d never leave again.

That he loves me.

I woke up in the hospital just a few hours later, Izuku was just outside my hospital room as he talked to some of the staff.

He hurried in once he saw that I was awake, smiling brightly at me as tears pricked his eyes.

“Oh, Y/N… I’m so glad you’re okay..!” He reached out to cup my face in his hands, rubbing my cheeks softly as he looked down at me.

“Izu…”

“Shh… don’t speak… I want to tell you something…”

I looked up at him with soft eyes, my head still in a daze from the attack as I focused on his words.

“I love you… When you were still dazed you… You confessed to me… I want you to know that… I love you too… and I will never leave you alone like that again… I promise…”

I had passed out after that, but he kept his promise to me.

That’s why now, I’m his little housewife.

I cook and I clean, and I take care of our cat, Milo.

I do everything for him.

But not because he forces me to… he tells me, again and again, I never have to lift a finger… that he’d hire maids to take care of it.

But I like doing these things for him, plus I like things to be in a specific order.

I had finally finished rearranging the living area before he got home.

I’m freshly showered, laying comfortably in one of the recliner chairs in only his hoodie and panties as I eat some soup dumplings, his portion still sitting in the steamer to keep them warm.

I hear the locks on the door and sit up, staring at the door as he walks in, kicking off his shoes and setting them beside the others.

“I’m home- oh! Well, hello there, princess…” He walks over with heavy feet, holding my head and kissing my forehead softly, petting my hair.

“How’s my favorite girl doing?” I smile up at him, my cheeks slightly flushed.

“I’m good! Do you like how I reorganized?” He finally takes the chance to inspect the room, furrowing his brows a bit.

“I told you that you shouldn’t reorganize while I’m not here… what if you hurt yourself moving all of this heavy furniture?” I wave my hand.

“Of course I didn’t… Kacchan and Eijiro popped in around lunchtime… I asked them to pick up some more cat food for Milo. So, while they were here, I asked them to move the heavier things.”

Hearing me say his name, our ginger cat, Milo, hops up on my lap, curling onto the soft blanket thrown across my lower body.

“Well, I’m glad for that. How much did they get? How much do I owe them?”

“Kacchan said not to worry about it! Just as long as we promise to cat-sit for him next weekend!”

“But… I work next weekend…” I set my empty plate down on the coffee table, tilting my head as I smile up at him.

“I know, silly. I’ll be watching his cat, don’t you worry!” His eyes soften as he looks down at me, resting his large hand against my head.

“You’re so sweet, baby…” I flush under his gaze.

“So, what did you eat before I got here?” He takes the empty plate from the coffee table.

“Soup dumplings! I know you like the stuff from the convenience stores but… I wanted to try to make them myself! I thought they were yummy, but yours are still in the steamer! I used a different soup for yours!”

He moves towards the steamer and transfers his dumplings onto my used plate, moving back towards me. I picked Milo up and put him on his bed, watching as Izuku sat in the seat I was just in.

He shoves one into his mouth, chewing slowly.

I tug at my fingers, a little nervous about whether he likes them or not.

“Izu..?” He smiles up at me, swallowing the food.

“These are great! I won’t ever need any from the convenience store again!” I smile so hard my cheeks hurt, holding my cheeks as he finishes eating.

He stands and moves so he’s in front of me, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

“Thank you, baby. You’re the best. How about you go to our room?”

“I have to wash your plate…”

“I got it, okay? It’s just one…” I nod and head into our room, undoing the covers a bit so we can both get in.

I find my phone and plug it in, answering a few unanswered texts before turning it off and setting it to the side.

Izuku comes back with nothing but a pair of basketball shorts on, kneading one of his large hands into his shoulder blades.

“Do you… want me to massage your shoulders, Izu..?”

“Oh… no, baby… I’m fine… I actually… wanted to do something for you tonight…” I watch with cautious eyes as he starts to crawl onto the bed, slipping under the covers and moving so he’s on top of me.

“H-huh..? What for..?”

“Hm… dunno… you’re just too cute… I wanna spoil you…” I blush heavily as he leans in, kissing my lips softly.

His kisses become deeper and more passionate, leaving me struggling for air before I pull away.

He doesn’t stop when I do, though, moving his lips to trail wet kisses down my jaw to my neck.

He grabs my wrists to lift me, pulling the hoodie over my head and tossing it onto the floor.

I pout as he does, missing the warmth already.

Soon, that warmth was replaced by his body, him taking the opportunity to suck and nibble on my neck better.

He moves down to nibble and kiss my collarbone gently, reaching with one of his hands to wrap around my throat.

It wasn’t enough to restrict my breathing at all, just laying there to show me that he was the one in control.

As if he isn’t always in control…

He grabs onto one of my breasts with his free hand, latching his lips onto it as he sucks gently, kneading my nipple with his tongue.

By now, I was a panting and whining mess, my panties soaked from my arousal as I rubbed my thighs together for some sort of friction.

He notices my movements and lifts his head to look at me, his pupils blown as he stares at me full of lust.

“Can I lick your pussy, princess..? I’ve been thinking about your sweet juices on my tongue all day…”

If I wasn’t blushing before, I definitely was now.

I felt the heat rise from my pulsing core up my chest and neck to my cheeks, traveling up to my ears.

I nod shyly, opening my legs up for him as he smiles widely, a hint of mischief behind his smile.

“Oh, you’re too kind, baby…” His head disappears under the covers as he runs his fingers up my soaked panties, making my body twitch due to the unexpected touch.

“My, my… is my baby sensitive already..? I should take care of that…” He kisses me through my soaked underwear, teasing it with kitty licks before lifting my hips with his hands and sliding them off.

His face appears from under the covers for a brief moment, watching as he sniffs my soaked panties.

I blush even harder, my thighs starting to tremble from the lewd display in front of me.

He tosses the panties onto the floor before ducking his head under the covers again.

I feel him kiss my inner thighs, teasingly slow as he gets closer to my pussy before switching to the other thigh.

I was trembling with anticipation, my hole clenching around nothing as I whined.

“Shh… be patient… all this teasing will make it feel so good… you’ll be so sensitive from just one orgasm, you won’t be able to handle another one…” He blows on my pussy the slightest bit, and even that was enough to make my whole body jerk.

“See..?” He hooks his arms around my thighs, his grip firm but not painful as he slowly licks up my slit, my body jolting as my head falls back against the pillows, a needy moan leaving my lips as he does it again.

He eats me out agonizingly slow, bringing me to the brink of an orgasm before stopping entirely, leaving me a whining mess.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks by now, the pleasure being too much from the lack of release.

My grip on the sheets was so fierce, that my knuckles were turning white.

“P-Please..!” I manage to sputter out.

He unlatches his lips from my clit, moving so that I could see his face from under the covers.

“Please what, darling? Do you want to cum..?” I nod, sitting up on my elbows to look at him better.

“Y-Yes, please… I-I’m so sensitive… I just wanna cum… Can I cum..? Please..?” His fingers brush against my clit and I jolt, my body still sensitive from being edged three different times.

“Well… since you asked so nicely… I have to give my princess what she wants, right?” I nod eagerly.

“Feels so good, Izu… Wanna cum just for you…” He smiles up at me softly, hiding under the covers again.

I feel no movement for a moment before being completely engulfed in pleasure.

I could feel his tongue buried as deep as it would go, my walls clenching pathetically around it as he swipes his nose against my clit.

The sounds of him lapping up my pussy were my undoing, my body tensing for a moment before I reach my orgasm.

My hips buck up into his mouth involuntarily, my fingers finding their place in his emerald green curls as I tug, riding his face to feel the most pleasure.

My vision was a bit spotty, the pleasure completely clouding my brain as I started to calm down, releasing his hair as I twitched from his continuous licks.

He doesn’t stop until the last of my cum is gone, leaving me twitching with sensitivity as he kisses up my belly.

His face appears from under the covers again, the cutest smile on display as he kisses my belly, keeping eye contact with me.

“You taste so good… thank you for letting me enjoy you…” I could only hum in response, his tongue having fucked me stupid as I drop my head against the pillows.

It takes a few minutes before I come down from my high, realizing that he had moved me to lay on his lap, my back against his chest.

“D-Did you finish..?” He kisses the top of my head, chuckling softly.

“Your moans were enough to make me cum twice, princess… how do you feel..?” I blush, realizing that I forgot he was such a pleasure dom.

“I’m still tingling… it felt really good…”

“Hm… I guess I’ve been neglecting you then… I don’t think you ever came that hard before…”

“It… has been a while… doesn’t help that I’m not allowed to touch myself when you’re not here…” He laughs softly, kissing the top of my head again.

“I’m not changing that rule, by the way. Now, I want you to sleep. And… can I ask you a quick question?” I nod softly, my eyes becoming heavy as I close them, ready to sleep at any second.

“Would you mind if I… woke you up with my tongue..?” The heat rushes to my cheeks again, but it’s not enough to get me to open my eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind… but if I say my safe word…”

“I will stop immediately. You’ve never had to use the safe word and I hope you never will.”

I smile, moving my body so I can hug him, inhaling his scent.

“I love you, Izu… thank you for always being my hero…” I fall asleep shortly after that, not conscious when Izuku kisses the top of my head again, blushing.

“I love you too, Y/N… goodnight…”

#bnha #deku #deku x reader #deku smut #dom/sub #pleasure dom #izuku smut #bnha izuku

[maybankswhore]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 , 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓?

“ yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect? i only see him as a friend. ”

SUMMARY: rafe cameron’s back in kildare and he’s got one thing on his mind: you.

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader.

WARNINGS: alcohol , cursing & heavy petting.

“ i only see him as a friend ” — the biggest lie i ever said. yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect? . . . i just tripped and fell into his bed. ”

“ haven’t heard from you in a couple of months but i’m out right now & i’m all fucked up & you’re calling my phone , you’re all alone & i’m sensin’ some undertone. & i’m right here with all my friends but you’re sending me your new address & i know we’re done & i know we’re through— ”

You and JJ had taken one too many tequila shots. Somehow you convinced herself it was fate , drowning in alcohol while thinking of him. It had been months since you and Rafe had broken up— months , and while you seemed to be over it just fine in front of everyone else , you knew you weren’t.

The last time you had seen him , you knew it was really over. It hadn’t felt like all the other fights especially not after what happened with the Sherriff and then his dad not too long after. With everything going on , the only good thing he really did back then was let you go while figuring his own shit out.

Everyone told you it was for the better. It was easier to forget with him away from Kildare and you had found yourself in a new group of friends that helped ease your transition from being Rafe’s girlfriend— to being a new and improved Y/N.

Was all of that progress really worth losing?

Hey. I’m back.

The text had illuminated your face in the night air. The wind whipping at you as you stood in place , looking at your phone. You knew it was Rafe because even though you had deleted his contact in a fit of rage and sadness not too long after the break–up , he was still the only person you knew who bothered to text with correct punctuation and capitalization. Blinking as you looked at it , you subconsciously glanced around to see if anyone had noticed knowing what they’d say if they did. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard , debating responding.

You could always blame it on the alcohol , right?

oh.

Was all you said before your phone started ringing , and the number you had memorized by heart and never was able to forget popped up. Panicking while looking around , you rushed through the crowds of people to find a quiet spot away on the beach. You only hoped he’d give up and hang up before you found one. It was silly for you to be this excited , and even more so to be so quick in answering. But with those shots in mind , you pressed answer.

“Hey.”

Rafe’s voice made you shiver. It had been forever since you had heard it last. Swallowing the enormous lump in your throat , you opened your mouth to answer. “Who is this?” You asked , sounding unsure. You could hear him chuckling at your question— and you knew that he knew.

“Rafe.” He responded and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Did you get my text?”

“Yeah.”

The music was still thumping but not close enough to where you couldn’t hear him shuffling around on the other end. “Where are you? What’s the noise?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You rolled your eyes. “Why did you call me Rafe? Like what do you want from me?”

“Just wanted to let you know I was back in town. . .” he trailed off. “I’ve missed you , you know.”

There it was. You almost groaned out loud as soon as he said it. Not because you didn’t like hearing it , but because you knew exactly where it’d lead to. Sighing as you rubbed a hand down your face , your lips pursed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Y/N—” Rafe started but you interrupted him.

“Seriously. What do you want?”

“To see you.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Kelce and I just finished up in the apartment and you’re the first person I called.”

He was making it hard. The two of you were broken up and all for good reasons— but even though you couldn’t admit it out loud , you did miss him and you found yourself responding before processing what you said. “What apartment?”

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up—”

“No!” You shouted , shutting your eyes in embarrassment as soon as you had. Rafe couldn’t pull up there. For one , it didn’t matter how ‘broken up’ the two of you were— you knew Rafe Cameron. Seeing you on the cut around JJ , John B especially , he wouldn’t like it. Your friends wouldn’t appreciate watching you getting in his truck either , and would definitely try talking you out of it. “I mean— send me your address and I’ll uber there.”

Rafe was silent and you thought he’d hang up. But you heard him mumble something to himself before feeling your phone vibrate. “I’m glad you’re coming , Y/N. I really did miss you. Send me a picture of whoever comes and gets you just in case.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t bother saying you missed him back regardless if you did or not. Saying things like that made it complicated. If anything you were only going to see him just to check up. Make sure he was okay. Sure Rafe had been shitty , did shitty things , but in the end Rafe had always loved you and the feeling was mutual. Things like that don’t just go away.

“ seein’ you tonight , it’s a bad idea , right? ”

You always you were getting yourself caught up in shit you shouldn’t be. How stupid could you be , really. Rafe was your ex for a reason. It took you so long to even get yourself to leave your room after it happened , to eat a proper meal. You were heartbroken.

“ seein’ you tonight , it’s a bad idea , right? ”

Of course it was a bad idea. It was! But what’s the worse that could happen? It was just one night. You shouldn’t , though. Not after everything. Not even if he didn’t mean all those things he said. Not even if he said how much he missed you and how genuine he sounded. This would blow up in your face.

But how bad was bad?

“ yes i know that he’s my ex! but can’t two people reconnect? i only see him as a friend. ”

As you walked back to the beach , you started the conversation in your head.

There were tons of people who were friends with their ex. Like , who else could know you better than a person like that? And so much time had passed that he was probably a different person now , just like you were. Your heart ached to see him again because it had been so long. You wanted to hear all about what he’s been up to , how he was dealing with everything. You still cared about him. You just didn’t love him.

You couldn’t , could you?

People reconnect with eachother all the time. Rafe was just a friend now. That was it.

Right?

the biggest lie i’ve ever said.

You told your friends you weren’t feeling good anymore. They were too drunk to really notice you looked fine. If anything you were sick to your stomach with nerves. JJ walked you to your Uber and hugged you goodbye , telling you to text him when you made it home.

You almost felt bad about lying.

The whole ride Rafe was texting you , he wasn’t ever a fan of you using Uber’s to get around. Always saying he was the safest option.

The apartments were nice. He was on the second floor and by the time you had gotten to his door , he was already standing in the doorway waiting for you. You tried playing it cool , but he had looked better than ever. Surely you had seen other people , other guys and maybe then they were hotter than he was. Or whatever you tried convincing yourself then.

But he looked different now. Older. There was something different about the atmosphere he brought. With his hair shaven away to nothing but a buzzcut— one that only someone like him could pull off so fucking well. So well actually , that it almost pissed you off. His upper lip held the tiniest bit of hair in a stache–esque way and if you hadn’t looked away , your knees would have given out.

“You look so pretty.” Was the first thing out of his mouth and you flushed , standing in front of him awkwardly. “You also look like you’ve been out.”

He tried not to think about who you were out with. Pushing down the familiarity of possession over you mixed with a bit of jealousy. It didn’t matter if the two of you were broken up— not to him , anyway. Rafe knew as soon as he could , he’d be going back to you. He hadn’t even bothered looking at another girl. But it would be selfish of him to expect the same.

“Are you gonna let me come in or what?” You shuffled on your feet as you ignored his words. Your eyes flashed behind him to peak in , wondering what the Rafe now lived like.

Clearing his throat , Rafe nodded. Moving back to let you come inside. Your eyes roamed the walls as you did. It was more simple than you imagined , the smell of new hit your nose so what he said earlier on the phone proved to be true. There were a few empty boxes laid around. Rafe was quiet as he let you wander around , leaning against the wall. His eyes roamed over you— taking you in. Everything in his body was burning , begging to close the gap between the two of you. He wasn’t lying when he said he had missed you. All of you.

You paused when you saw a picture of the two of you propped up in a picture frame one of the counters. The memory in the photo seeming ages ago. The two of you were only sixteen in the photo , his arm wrapped around you as showed off the horribly decorated Halloween cookies. Your fingers ghosted over it , finding your heart crying at it.

“It’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” Rafe said when he noticed what had stopped you. “Even if my hair was fucking terrible.”

You giggled at that. It was. Not at the time , though. At the time there had been no other boy who looked as handsome with handfuls of gel in their hair. The innocence in his face in the picture almost made you sad. “Mine’s our first Christmas—” you turned around to look at him , hands at your sides. “When I forced you to where the Santa costume for Wheezie and her friends.” Rose had taken that picture for you then. You were sitting in his lap , pretending you were talking to Santa about what you wanted for Christmas. Which he had listened to your silly , girly wishes and surprised you with a Barbie Dream House. Wheezie had been so jealous.

“Do you still have it?” Rafe questioned. His heart beating in his chest so loud that he wondered if you could hear it , too.

“Yeah.”

You can see the glimmer on his face as you answer him. Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms , shifting on your feet. With your heart thumping rapidly in your chest mixed in with the way he looks— you can feel it start bubbling in your stomach. “What’d you call me for , Rafe?”

“What’d you answer for , Y/N.” He quirked back , matching your stance.

“I didn’t know it was you.” You huffed out a lie.

By the way you avoided his eyes , he could tell you were lying. He also knew you well and knew that you never deleted contacts. “Yeah , sure.”

Knawing on the inside of your cheek , you stayed in place as Rafe slowly walked over to you. His eyes never leaving you as he treaded lightly , cautiously. Every part of you was screaming how bad of an idea this was but nothing in you was strong enough to move. The minute his hand had reached out to touch your cheek , your head lulled to the side to fall into it. A sigh left your mouth quietly. It had still felt the same. Nothing had changed.

“I meant it when I said I missed you.”

“ i only see him as a friend — i just tripped and fell into his bed. ”

You didn’t know how it happened. One minute he was sweet talking you and the next you were stumbling over your feet into his room. You wished you had taken a few more shots— the alcohol completely voided of your body.

His hand held yours as he tugged you in his room , connecting his lips onto yours quickly. You gasped as he kissed you , the fire that had been slowly burning inside of you for months finally catching— igniting almost instantly. Instinctively you reacted , wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him closer.

You huffed as you pulled away , allowing him to lightly push you down on the bed and crawl on top of you. Your legs parted and as he crawled on top of you , the chain he was wearing dangling in his face— it occured to you that all this time you had been lying to yourself. Rafe wasn’t a friend— he never could be , and as his eyes shimmered looking down at you , a part of you could feel that he felt the same.

He was panting. The need to have you as close as possible settling in. Your hands reached up to cup his face , fingers ghosting over his skin. “What would you say if I asked you if you still loved me?” Your words were barely above a whisper as you heart beat loudly in your chest. So loud it thumped in your ears.

Rafe’s eyes softened on you and your hands on his face had felt like a distant memory. Nostalgic and sweet. Leaning down , he nudged his nose against yours , mind hazy. “I’d say that I did. That I’ve loved you as a boy— and now as a man.”

The words he had spoke seemed to resonate deep in your chest. It was true that the last time you had saw him , he was still the boy you had grew up with. But things were different now and the time apart had changed more than just you. He wore it in his actions , in the smile lines that had reminded you of all the laughs you had shared together in the hopeful years. His build was stronger , the way he carried himself was , too. But all in all— he was still Rafe.

“And you?” Rafe couldn’t help but ask. How much he wanted to lean down and kiss you. To worship you the way he should’ve— to fuck you like he loved you.

He just needed to hear you say it.

Your bottom lip trapped itself between your teeth. The thoughts of your friends scolding you , the disappointment from your mom and the idea that this would bring nothing but bad news to you plagued your mind. Though deep down you knew that Rafe Cameron was the love of your life. The kind’ve love that could only ever come once. You met him as a girl. Spending your girlhood lusting after him. He was the first boy you ever kissed , the first boy that broke your heart. Your breathing quickened and nothing else mattered. Not now. Not anymore.

“I’ve always loved you.” You answered , brushing his forehead like you had done so many times before except his shaggy , blonde hair was ghostly now.

“I’ll love you forever and even after that.”

#rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe headcanons #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #bad idea right #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader smut

[rashoumon-homo]

No Such Tastes In Men pt.4 (the last part)

Dazai x Male Reader, NSFW

-> Content Warnings: male!reader, anal sex (reader receiving), bottom!reader, dom/sub undertones, frottage, lethal amounts of fluff

-> 2.6k words

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

<- Previous Part

AUTHOR NOTE: There will be more Dazai x reader content for sure, but this is the last part of this particular story arc. I’m glad you’ve all enjoyed it so much! The reception is far more than I expected when I wrote the first part and I’m very grateful to all of you. <3

Initiating sex with Dazai has gotten steadily easier. Where before there’d be clunky verbal propositioning, you now wordlessly fall into each other’s arms at the end of each weekly meeting. 

He’s more liberal with kisses than you expected; it’s like the first one broke the dam and now he can’t get enough. When you’re alone, he’ll kiss you just because; cradling your jaw in his palm before gently pressing his lips to yours. Any lull in the conversation is quickly filled with the softness of his mouth on yours. 

It’s natural— unnaturally so. 

Dazai hasn’t asked to have penetrative sex with you again since the first time. You were quick to catch on that he was avoiding it, so you asked him about it, worried he hadn’t liked it. 

“No, no,” he’d said quickly. “It was… fuck, it was perfect.” He seemed a little breathless, a distant look in his eye. “I just need some time to process it.”

You didn’t push him. It’s understandable that he’d be overwhelmed, since it was his first time receiving and he’d thought he was straight up until then. He’d come to you when he was ready. 

Nearly two weeks after the night you’d fucked, he sent a text asking you to come over to his place after work. The implicit real invitation was clear as day. He’s ready again. 

You stand at Dazai’s front door, wrapping your coat tighter against yourself to block the chilly air. When he answers the door, he seems a bit more relaxed than last time. He invites you in and hangs up your coat for you. 

“So…” you prompt. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I wanted to talk to you. I’ve had some time to think and I want to share what I’ve discovered about myself.”

“Oh!” you say, a little surprised. “I’d be happy to hear all about it!” 

Dazai gives you a relieved smile and urges you to sit on the couch. He’s bustling in the kitchen a moment later and calls out, “Just water, right?” 

“Yup!” you reply, your stomach doing a little flip. Remembering your drink preferences from last time is a small thing, you remind yourself. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything deeper. Although it is nice to know he cares. 

He returns with your drinks and sets his on the side table. He fidgets with his hands while you take a sip of water. 

You smile around the rim of your glass and peek over at him. He’s so cute like this, with all his carefully manufactured bravado stripped away. What’s left behind is a cautious, sweet man earnestly looking to learn more about himself and his desires. It’s been hard for you to avoid catching feelings, but you know that would be taking the arrangement too far, so you maintain a level of emotional distance when you can. 

“What?” you finally ask, nudging him with your elbow. 

“Can I kiss you one more time before I start talking?” he asks. “Just in case?”

The implication of “just in case” makes your blood run cold, but you give him a warm smile. “Always,” you murmur, tipping your head forward. 

His lips meet yours gently, his hand hovering near the back of your head before cautiously resting in your hair. He sucks lightly at your lower lip, teasing it between his teeth. Then he tilts his head further and parts his lips, urging you to do the same. As you lick into his mouth, his body seems to curl into you. It’s like he just wants to be held; to be as close to you as possible. You run your fingers through his hair, cradling his head in your hand, and he lets out the most melancholy little sigh you’ve ever heard. It’s like a flower wilting, like a stray kitten in the rain, and it breaks your heart. 

You slowly ease away, peppering his lips and the corner of his mouth with little kisses as you do. His eyes stay closed for a moment after you pull away, like he wants to pretend the moment isn’t ending. 

“Talk to me,” you say quietly. 

“I’m bi,” he says. He scans your eyes for any reaction, like there’s still some doubt in his mind that you of all people will reject him. 

You pull him into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you,” you say, voice muffled into his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.” You can feel his body relax, a little of the tension let out at your words. 

“You’ve helped me to realize,” he continues as you pull away, “That I like men sexually… and romantically.” Before you can even process it, a flood of words pours from his mouth. 

“I wasn’t totally sure at first because I like having sex with you but I didn’t want to label myself as bi yet because I’d never had romantic feelings towards a guy. But then I started to feel things towards you and I wanted to test it by having you fuck me and I really, really liked it. And not only that, I liked you.” 

He takes a breath and looks at you. “I like you. And it goes deeper than physical desire. And I know that wasn’t the deal, but I couldn’t help it. I don’t want to be stuck in a one-sided thing with you so if you don’t feel the same, I think we should stop hooking up. It’s not fair to either of us.” 

You blink at him. “But I do feel the same,” you say. “I’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but I like you too. I want to make out with you and fuck you and give you blow jobs in alleyways, but I also want to hold your hand and take you on cheesy dates to the bowling alley or whatever.”

Dazai giggles, but it’s a little sniffly. “The bowling alley?” he teases. 

You laugh and shove him playfully. “You’re laughing now, but you haven’t seen my mad bowling skills in action.” 

“Oh my god,” he laughs, shaking his head. When the laughter dies down, he asks, “So you really do feel the same?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” you say firmly. 

Like a nervous teen, he asks, “So we’re, like, boyfriends?” 

You hide a smile behind your hand. “I like the sound of that.” Then you pull him in by the collar of his shirt and kiss him. He melts into your arms, all the hesitancy from earlier having fully evaporated. You can feel him smiling into the kiss, something he’s never done before. It’s adorable. You find yourself smiling back, and then you’re both smiling too much to even kiss properly, so he nuzzles his face into your neck and lets you hold him. 

“There’s something we haven’t done yet that I’d like to try,” he mumbles. 

“Sounding?” you joke. Apparently the joking tone doesn’t read as well when he can’t see you, so he pulls back briefly, looking mildly horrified. “I’m just kidding,” you reassure him, chuckling and running your fingers through his hair. “Tell me your idea.”

“I’m not sure if this is something you’re into or not, so we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he explains. “But you fucked me before and I was kind of wondering what it would be like to fuck you.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at the suggestion. You can’t deny you’ve thought about it before. Late at night, when you’re too horny to sleep, you’d finger yourself imagining it was him instead. You’d formed a habit of it, where it was second nature to cum with his name on your lips and fantasies of him stuffing you full. 

Interpreting your silence as hesitation, Dazai quickly backtracks. “But if you’re a top, I don’t mind bottoming for you again-”

You cut him off. “I’m a switch.” More quietly, you admit, “You have no idea how much I’ve craved that idea.” 

A playful smirk makes its way across his face. “Craved it, hmm?” He sits in your lap, slowly kissing up your neck. Your hands move to rest on his hips. 

“M-maybe,” you admit, mind already going fuzzy with arousal. He rolls his hips, pressing your erections together, and you can’t stifle the groan you let out. “Fuck…” you whisper. 

“I like you like this,” he teases, his breath ghosting over your ear. “So pliant and needy under my touch.” He rolls his hips again and bites down at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I could get used to this,” he murmurs. 

“Dazai…” you groan. You’re melting under him, chasing his every touch, as your mind clouds over with arousal. You need him. You need more. 

“I know, baby,” he soothes. Then he gets off your lap and stands up and you positively whimper at the lack of contact. “Bedroom,” he orders. “I’m not fucking you on the couch– at least not tonight.”

You let him lead you to the bedroom and push you onto your back on the bed. He works quickly to pull your shirt off, and you’re reminded he’s wearing far too many clothes, so you do the same for him. After a few moments of frustrated fiddling with each other’s belts (both of you getting in each other’s way), you wordlessly agree to take off your own pants instead. 

And then you’re both just in your boxers and even the time it takes to remove those feels too long, so instead you grab him and pull him down on top of you. You roll around on the bed, frantically grinding against each other. Kisses turn into bites and somewhere in the back of your mind you’re scolding yourself for acting like a feral animal. But you can’t bring yourself to care, not when his throat feels so good between your teeth and the friction of his cock against yours with only two flimsy layers of fabric in between is driving you wild. 

Dazai manages to get his underwear down to his knees in the scuffle, then he slides his hands under your ass and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your boxers to pull them down. “Hold on-” he groans, chuckling a little as you suck a hickey onto his pale skin. He rolls off of you and pulls his underwear the rest of the way off before you pounce on him again. He’s trying to wiggle your boxers the rest of the way down, but it’s hard with you latched onto him like that. 

“Be patient!” he laughs, shoving you off. He manages to finish undressing you, then straddles your hips. “Good,” he says, kissing you. “Good boy.”

When he leans away, his bare cock brushes against yours, making your hips jerk forward. You whine and grab his ass, roughly pulling him forward to chase the friction. He wraps his hand around both of you and strokes them together. You moan under his touch. It feels so good, like warm sparks running through your veins from your crotch outward. 

“Don’t cum yet, okay?” Dazai reminds you. “I still want to fuck you.”

“Get on with it,” you groan impatiently. You hand him the lube, having remembered from last time where it is. 

“So impatient,” he teases. “You really that desperate for me to fuck you?”

“You have no idea,” you whisper, then moan as he slips a long, slender finger inside of you. 

A look of surprise crosses his face. “Did you already prep yourself?” he asks. 

You nod. “I assumed from your text…”

He slips another finger inside, working you open with ease. “But how did you know I’d want to top this time?”

“I didn’t,” you explain. It’s getting really hard to concentrate on the conversation with Dazai’s fingers in your ass. “I came prepped last time too, just in case.”

Dazai stops suddenly, eyes wide. “You’re joking.” You wiggle your hips to urge him to keep going. “I can’t believe I missed out on the chance to fuck you.”

“You have the chance right now, so c’mon,” you say impatiently. “Fuck. Me.”

You’re momentarily disappointed when Dazai pulls his fingers out, but then he reaches for a condom and rolls it on. 

“How do you like it?” he asks. His cock rubs against your hole and it takes all your self-restraint not to push back against him and fuck yourself on it. “Fast, slow? Gentle, rough?”

“I like it in my ass,” you snarl. 

He unexpectedly grins. “Such a brat!” He sinks just the head inside, not even enough for you to really feel any relief. “You’re gonna be a good boy for me though, right?” 

Desperation and impatience starts to crack your resolve. You need him to fuck you or you’re gonna lose your mind. “Yeah,” you say reluctantly.

“Yeah, what?” 

You shoot Dazai a withering look, but his smug expression holds strong. “Yes, Dazai,” you correct yourself. 

“So good,” he murmurs, then sinks the rest of the way in. The way he stretches you out and fills you up is even better than you imagined. He fits you perfectly; hits every spot just right. But that’s nothing compared to the first thrust. When he pulls back and thrusts in, your whole spine arches and you moan loud enough for the sound to fill the room. 

“Fuck,” you rasp. 

“Yeah, you like that?” Dazai asks. He’s a little breathless himself. “You feel so good. So warm and tight around me.” He thrusts again, moaning through it. “Goddamn…” Gradually, he builds up a rhythm. He maneuvers your arms so they’re over your head, crossed at the wrists, then holds them tight in his grip. Holding you in place, he starts to fuck you more roughly.

The slick sound of the lube, along with the slap of his balls against your ass, fill the room. The sound is accompanied by both of your moans, grunts, and heavy breathing. 

“Dazai,” you warn. Your cock is throbbing, ready to go off at the slightest touch. “Gonna-”

He wraps his free hand around your cock and pumps once. Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes for you to finish. Your whole body tenses as you let out a short grunt through clenched teeth and spill out over his hand and your belly. 

“Shit-” Dazai grunts, then thrusts hard and lets out a low moan as he cums. 

A minute later, you’re both breathing hard, covered in a mixture of sweat, lube, and cum, but happier than you’ve ever been. Dazai pulls out and takes care of the condom, then flops on the bed beside you. 

“I definitely like topping,” he says finally. You can hear the grin in his voice, and you can’t help but smile too. 

“Don’t expect me to let you top every time,” you warn him. “My ass is gonna hurt so bad tomorrow…” 

“Hey, you asked for it!” Dazai rolls onto his side and flops an arm across your chest lazily. “When were you planning on telling me you’re a brat, by the way? You’re a lot of work, you know. It’s a good thing you’re cute like that.”

You stick out your tongue at him, and he darts in and licks it before you can pull it away. Laughing, you shove him, then roll on top of him and kiss him. “Boyfriend,” you murmur happily.

“That’s me,” he says, kissing you again. The cute moment lasts for only a minute or two longer, at which point Dazai whines, “You’re getting cum all over me!”

You roll your eyes and get up, pulling him up after you. “Fine, let’s shower. C’mon, babe.”

Dazai grins and follows you. “I like when you call me babe,” he says. After a moment, he adds, “I like you.”

“Ugh, you’re so adorable it’s actually gross,” you tease. You kiss him, then murmur, “I like you too.”

Tag list: @suru1990

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#rashoumon writes #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x male reader #dazai x m!reader #dazai smut #bsd fic #bsd #dazai bsd #top dazai

[not-another-leon-blog]

Aftermath

DI! Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary– How your son (doesn’t) deal with the aftermath of Alcatraz. Word count: 2345 S/n– Son’s name D/n– Daughter’s name A/N: has a slightly heavier focus on Leon and his son, a sequel to Family Matters / Aftermath / Out Together

You were right about one thing following the incident in San Francisco: You and Leon wouldn’t be sleeping alone for a long time. For almost the past month, D/n had practically moved into your bedroom, too scared to sleep alone even with her nightlight. Neither of you minded, though. You’d be more concerned if she never came to you at all.

Which was the case with S/n. Not once had he come crawling into bed between you. He hadn’t even sprawled himself across the foot of the bed like he sometimes did during thunderstorms. 

Had it been any other situation, you probably would have commended him for braving through his fears. But you knew all too well how difficult it was to have to deal with the consequences of the viruses and the mutations they brought with them. And with S/n being only eight years old, it had to be harder for him.

“I’m worried about him,” you said to Leon one day. The kids were at school and for once Leon’s vacation days had gone uninterrupted. 

He’d been thinking the same thing for a while now. S/n had changed since they came home. He was quiet, reserved. His grades had fallen and he hadn’t shown interest in doing much of anything. He knew they wouldn’t be able to keep the viruses a secret forever, he just never imagined the twins finding out so soon. And in such an intense way.

“I know.” He leaned against the dining table. “He pretends to sleep at night.” It had become almost routine for him to get up at some point in the night to check on S/n. “I’ve tried talking to him, but he won’t listen.”

You saw the droop in his shoulders, the defeated look in his eyes. The both of you were stumped when it came to getting through to your son. Unlike him, D/n was easier to read. She wore her heart on her sleeve and sought out support and help more often than her brother. 

Your phone began to ring. As you went to answer, Leon continued to think of ways to get through to his son. Maybe they were trying too hard. Maybe he just needed to wait for S/n to come to them to talk. But S/n was stubborn and Leon knew that despite his youth, he felt like he needed to be the more responsible twin (though he’d been born only a minute before his sister) and that drove him to keep most of his negative thoughts to himself.

“We need to go pick up the twins,” you told him as you hung up the phone. 

“Why? What happened?” That surprised him. They’d never been called to pick up either of the twins early from school before. It wasn’t even noon yet.

You sighed. “I don’t know. Something about a fight with a couple other kids.”

Leon slipped on one of his leather jackets and grabbed his keys, gesturing for you to follow him. Together, the two of you drove to the school in silence. There was no use in being upset with them (unless, of course, it was justified). Mostly, you were upset with yourselves.

The day you had told Leon you were pregnant, he was beyond terrified. If Raccoon City had never happened, if these viruses and monsters never existed, maybe he would have been excited. Make no mistake, he adored his children and would go to the ends of the earth for them, but back then the thought of bringing new life into a world like this felt like the scariest thing in the world. And now, in his eyes, he had failed his kids. They’d been thrown right into the face of danger and now had to deal with the trauma of it. 

You reached the school and made your way to the front office. D/n and S/n were sitting just outside of the principal’s office. Their hair was a mess and S/n had ripped holes in his jeans. Dirt was smeared on D/n’s cheek and the braid you’d done for her had come loose. They both avoided your eyes.

The principal’s door opened. “Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy?”

~~

“I’m sure both of you are aware that we don’t condone fighting in this school. We have a very strict anti-bullying policy,” the principal started. 

“Of course,” you replied. “Though, we would like to know exactly what happened.”

“They were involved in a fight during their lunch hour,” the principal said simply. “The other kids are currently in the nurse's office with busted lips and bloody noses.” The explanation seemed simple enough. But surely there had to be more to it.

“Mind if we get the kids in here?” Leon asked pointedly. He wasn’t satisfied with this version of events. The principal nodded and Leon went back to the door, opening it just enough to usher the twins inside.

“They have no prior behavioral issues,” the principal said, “but given the circumstances, at the very least they will be on a three-day suspension.”

“Let’s hear their side first,” Leon said firmly, folding his arms across his chest. 

They were quiet. D/n began picking at her fingers and chewing the inside of her cheek. S/n’s eyes were narrowed and his jaw locked. You knew that look despite how rare it was to see. He was usually such a happy boy but right now, he was angry. Downright furious even.

“They wouldn’t leave D/n alone,” he spat.

“What were they doing to D/n?” Leon asked.

“Pulling her hair. They called her a crybaby.”

You turned back to the principal. “I thought you didn’t tolerate bullying?”

The principal stumbled over his words and went red in the face, trying to find a way out of the corner he’d found himself backed into. “With all due respect, Mrs. Kennedy, if that is indeed what happened, instigating a fight is inexcusable.”

“Is that what happened, D/n?” you asked her. She nodded.

Leon’s own frustration was starting to show. He was done with this conversation. “Let’s go.”

“Mr. Kennedy,” the principal started, “This situation must be addressed.”

“Look, I don’t encourage my kids to fight–” the principal shrunk into his chair, “ – but as I see it, my son was protecting his sister. Had your lunch monitors done their job, maybe we wouldn’t be here.”

The principal was speechless. Leon put a hand on each of the twins’ shoulders and gently nudged them back to the door. You stood and began to follow them. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

~~

The ride home was as silent as the ride to the school. Every now and then Leon glanced at the rearview mirror only to see S/n staring intently out the window. He could only guess at what his son was thinking. Above all, he hoped S/n wasn’t replaying San Francisco over and over in his head. Yet, he knew that was the reason they were here.

S/n was too young to process something like that and Leon will spend the rest of his life regretting the whole thing. But for now, he needed to find a way to help his son cope. He couldn’t have him going around busting lips and breaking noses (even if it was deserved).

As for D/n, Leon had decided to leave her to you for now. Even though she was a daddy’s girl through and through, his attention needed to be on S/n.

“Y/n,” he said as he pulled into the driveway, “go ahead and take D/n inside. I’m gonna have a talk with him.”

You nodded and climbed out of the car, D/n following close behind you.

There was a beat of silence.

“If you’re gonna yell, just do it,” S/n mumbled.

“I’m not gonna yell at you.” Leon turned in his seat. “I understand why you did what you did. But why didn’t you go get a teacher?”

S/n frowned and turned his gaze to his shoes. “I was…”

“But?”

He scoffed and shook his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes. Leon sighed and got out of the car, only to round it and get into the back seat with him. He put a comforting hand on top of his head.

S/n bottom lip began to quiver. His breathing became heavy and he wrapped his arms tight around himself. Leon swore he felt his heart snap in two at the sound of his son’s cry. Tears streamed down his face and his body shook with sobs. Leon unbuckled his seat belt and pulled him into his side, his shirt quickly becoming soaked with tears.

“I can still hear it!” Dylan Blake may be dead, but the damage he left behind would take a long time to heal, if ever. “I see it when I try to sleep!” S/n pressed himself as close to Leon as he could, as if he were trying to sink into him.

“It’s okay, bud,” he said quietly, slowly rocking back and forth. He desperately wanted to take the pain away. To erase the memories, rewrite the past or avoid it altogether. S/n cried harder, holding onto Leon like he was a lifeline.

It felt like hours had passed before S/n began to calm down. His sobs turned to sniffles and the tears slowly came to a stop. His grip on Leon’s shirt never loosened.

“W-why do you do it?” S/n whimpered.

Leon wiped his thumb over S/n’s cheek. “To keep you safe.” He held him just a bit tighter. “I do it so you’ll never have to.”

“B-but what i-if you… never come back?” Finally, S/n looked up at Leon. For that, he wasn’t sure he had an answer. He knew it was a very real possibility that one day he might leave and not come home. 

“Don’t you worry about that.” He kissed the top of his head. 

“Can’t you q-quit?”

“I wish I could.” It’s what he wants more than anything. He wanted to be home with his family. He wanted to watch them grow up and not have to worry about anything more than them coming home before curfew. If only it was that simple. 

He pulled away slightly. “I know you were protecting your sister, but you can’t be fighting in school. Even if they deserve it.” S/n nodded. He hugged him again. “I love you, bud. You don’t have to keep all this to yourself.”

“I love you, too,” S/n replied.

Leon shrugged out of his leather jacket and wrapped it around his son. “Take care of this for me, will ya?”

He slipped his arms into the sleeves. The jacket nearly swallowed him whole. “It’s too big.”

Leon chuckled and ruffled his hair. “You’ll grow into it. Let’s get inside.”

~~

You were starting to get worried by the time Leon and S/n came inside. You’d already managed to get the full story out of D/n and had her washing dishes in the kitchen. Not only had S/n started the fight, she had chosen to take part and help him instead of standing off to the side. At least you could take comfort in the fact that they’d stand by each other no matter what.

S/n waddled in wearing Leon’s jacket and went straight to the dining room table with his backpack, getting right to work on whatever homework needed to be done.

Leon came to stand beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Let’s take them out tomorrow,” he suggested. With the kids out of school for the next few days, it would be a good opportunity for him to bond with them.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Sports park?” It would be a healthy way for them to get out the stress they’d been carrying. “Get them to wack a few out in a batting cage?”

You considered it for a moment. Since coming home from San Francisco the twins had only ever gone from the house to school and back again. They needed a change in scenery. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

“It’s settled then.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and went to check on S/n while you went to start dinner.

For the first time in a while, there was a sense of peace that almost resembled normalcy. Alcatraz wasn’t at the forefront of your mind as the four of you ate and prepared for bed. Soon you found yourself tucked against Leon’s side in bed. D/n had chosen to sleep in her room tonight, though you were prepared to wake up with her between you in the morning.

The television droned on with some old comedy while you traced random shapes on Leon’s chest. “It looks like you got through to him today,” you said. S/n was noticeably less tense at dinner than he had been these past few days.

“Yeah. Little guy’s got a lot going on in there.” Progress was made and it brought him some relief. S/n had opened up to him just a little bit, and he wouldn’t ask for anything more right now. The door creaked open and S/n peeked inside nervously. 

He hesitated before asking, “Can I sleep here tonight?”

The two of you offered him soft smiles. “Sure, sweetie.” You scooted away from Leon to offer him the space in between. S/n nearly jumped into bed with you, almost as if he’d change his mind if he didn’t. Leon switched the television off and reached across to wrap his arm around the both of you.

“Will I ever stop thinking about it?” S/n held your hand tight as he nuzzled against Leon.

Leon kissed the top of his head. Deep down, he knew Alcatraz was something S/n would never truly forget. “One day, it’ll just be a bad dream.”

#di! leon x reader #dad! leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy #Leon Kennedy #resident evil #leon scott kennedy

[sleekswosobession]

you’re ok, you’re enough

lena oberdorf x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: all feedback on my writing is appreciated, and hope you enjoy :) [even tho imo this is one of the worse fics i’ve written]

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I’m not a footballer by any means, but I do know the difference whether someone is just physically exhausted from training and games. And, when they’re also exhausted in other senses.

I can immediately feel the tension when Lena walks in, her muscles are tense and her lips are quipped tightly.

“Lena?” She stops her movements and looks at me inquisitively. “I’m ordering in, anything in mind?” She shrugs walking off, not saying a word. I need to get something out of her. Get her to talk to me. We can’t continue like this.

I end up ordering our shared favourite food and she comes back in from her shower. I look up and it looks like she’s been crying. I furrow my eyebrows in concern but she just shakes her head dismissing it.

The food arrives and I plate it before giving it to my girlfriend who’s sitting on the couch, lost in thought. She looks up and smiles slightly, taking the plate of food, starting to eat. That’s one good sign at least.

During the meal, I make sure to keep an eye on her. She can probably tell, I don’t care though. She needs to know she’s not alone. No matter how stubborn she can be.

Dinner is done, I put the plates in the dishwasher.

No matter what, I am going to make sure she tells me what’s going on. I can’t sit by and watch as she shuts down completely.

“Lena.” I say softly sitting next to her, placing my hand on her thigh. She stares at me with an unreadable expression.

“I’m not sure exactly what you’re going through right now, but please. Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t sit back and watch as you tear yourself up. I won’t do allow you to do this to yourself.” I see she has tears in her eyes. She bites her lip looking away shaking her head.

“Baby, you and I both know how this ends. I won’t watch you shut everyone out. I know you’re scared, I know you’re collapsing. But I will try my best ok?” I watch as her body starts to shake, a sign she’s going to breakdown. Immediately, I pull her into my chest and allow her to sob into my shirt. I whisper words of affirmation hoping that she believes me, or even hears me.

You’re enough.

You’re ok.

I’ve got you.

I love you.

I’m here for you.

You’ll be ok.

After around 15 minutes of her crying, while I try my best to comfort her in anyway I can, her breathing starts to even out as the crying slows down. Soon enough she pulls herself up and looks into my eyes. I wipe the remaining tears off of her face and wait for her to say something.

“I…” She starts to speak but stops. I don’t say anything, just waiting to see what will be said.

“The pressure.” She begins. “Usually, I’m ok with everything, I’m ok with different titles but recently things have gotten harder and harder and I just… I don’t know how long I can keep going. People keep saying I’m the next best but I don’t feel like it and I don’t want it. I just want to play football without all of this. It’s so tiring.” She says with a shaky breath as I give her a small smile.

“Lena, I can’t tell you I understand because I don’t. You have so many people here, so many friends. You may not feel like you’re one of the best and you don’t need to be. Just be you, forget about everyone else’s expectations. Ignore what they have to say as hard as it may seem. Talk to people who might understand, maybe they can help take the burden. Make it easier for you. I know everything is wearing you out. Take a break, no matter how small. Do something you love. Hang out with Jule, hang out with me I don’t mind. Just try, not to let yourself get this low again. Please.” I say tilting my head.

She nods, allowing the words to sink in fully.

“Now, how about we get you to bed? I can imagine you’re tired.” Lena nods and we walk into the bedroom, only heading for the bed.

Once we’re laid down and her head is on my chest I whisper.

“You know how much I love you, right?” I can feel her smile.

“Ich liebe dich auch.” Then we both succumb to the sleep that awaits us after such an exhausting day.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #vfl wolfsburg frauen #wlw #gxg

[tobifuyu]

Snowflakes In My Stomach When We’re Kissin’

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fwb to lovers, oral (male reciving), tiny bit of angsty themes with happy ending, sappy fic, ran being a simp as always to feed my “he’s a self-centered bitch until he finds the one” agenda.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: surprise… i’m back with a christmas present! this is the first fic in a three pieces installment, which can all be read as standalone but come from the same universe and evolve in the span of three different christmases. in case you didn’t know, in japan christmas is a holiday in which people spend time with their partners because they reserve new year’s for family (not only i’ve seen it in a whole lot of shoujo anime but i’ve asked my japanese coworkers to confirm eheh). it’s also customary to eat cake! ;)

“Though you said you just wanted to get a coffee.”

The only thing peeking from the red scarf is the tip of his nose, flushed with the same color of the fabric that’s wrapped around his neck. You imagine his lips curved in a smirk under it.

When he came to pick you up earlier this morning, you thought he made a bold choice pairing the red garment with the unusual color of his hair. Up until then, you always believed red and purple would clash.

But Ran made it work, somehow. Like most things in his life, he did it with a confidence that made you question your world and how you view it even if for just a second.

“Well, that we did,” He shakes his hand, his long fingers easily supporting the weight of the full cup. You can see the steam rise from it and wonder if he’s not drinking it because he’s scared to burn his tongue or because he’s not ready to go home yet.

The two of you are currently walking around Shiba Park, not too far from Roppongi Hills. The peak of Tokyo Tower is hidden in plain sight behind the trees, stripped naked by the season, and adorned by strings of fairy lights.

In daylight they look clear, void of color, and empty, they come alive at night. Just like we both do, thinks Ran.

Ran does like winter. He believes winter poses more opportunities to forgo going out and staying in bed. He loves to gaze out of his apartment’s window and spot rain pit patting against the glass, watching the water droplets leave streaks behind as he lets himself get lulled back to sleep.

He also likes that he can layer more clothes, the more the merrier, he says, it’s easier to style it. You would agree, because he looks particularly elegant with his long black coat, left unbuttoned to glimpse at the nice sweater under it. The sight of his tightly clad body alone ignites a fire inside of you, one that is meek but insistent, and will soon start to burn you inside out.

What Ran doesn’t like it’s the cold. The wind is not fair against his pale skin, it leaves it red and stinging, much like his heart when he wakes up after a night together and doesn’t find you there. He does not like the cold, the cold of the sheets around him when you’ve left hours before.

He would like to pretend he’s clueless as to why, the same way you’re staring at him now, but he knows the reason behind it.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re wandering around without a destination in freezing weather?

“Can’t you just live a little?”

You scoff at his words, taking another sip out of your hot chocolate to bite back an insult. He’s already testing your patience, and you have very little of it left today of all days.

“We should go eat some cake, I’d love an excuse to grab a Mont Blanc for later at that bakery by your apartment. Y’know I like it there.”

Cake. You don’t like cake, and you don’t like what eating cake with him would mean today of all days.

“Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Ran?” You sigh, head shaking in disappointment.

When you decided to start this with Ran, it was because you believed the man to be on the same wavelength as you. Ran had seemed like someone who knew what he wanted, and you had been sure that was not you.

He had promised that would stay the case. Your heart could not afford to be cared for by somebody.

When you look at him this time, you don’t notice how the wind is whipping the skin of his high cheeks red because his scarf is now covering everything but the lidded eyes staring at you.

At this rate Ran might end up hating winter: you seem to get colder with the season. He doesn’t think he would pick sleeping in over you, so if he could, he would like for summer to last all year long.

He’d like for you to cling to him even when the temperature is so high you can barely breathe in your cramped room, sweat sticking to both your skin and his, like your very first night together.

Because where the holidays bring glee to most, to you they’re a reminder of times that are long gone. A childhood spent decorating the tree and wishing for the perfect Christmas gift, now turned into a life of solitude. Your fast-paced job and lonely apartment away from home don’t leave space for the frivolity of Christmas.

“Didn’t wanna leave you alone,” he speaks so clearly of his intentions you almost feel shame, “Did ya think I would’ve left you bask in your gloominess, today? ‘M not that bad of an ass.”

You don’t think Ran owns you anything. He shouldn’t be picking up the pieces of you that other people left scattered and putting them back together as if it were a kids’ puzzle.

Ran knows you don’t really have anyone, he thinks he’s much like you, and would be just as bitter if he didn’t have his brother.

“You left Rin by himself?”

You hear his muffled laughter, “‘course not. Haruchiyo’s there. Y’know how they are.”

Yes. In love, you suppose. And you wonder if Ran thinks that is what it is. And what is it between you two?

You can feel his body warmth as he gravitates closer to you, “‘M cold,” is his excuse when his now ungloved hand catches yours. He intertwines your fingers, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb, before hiding them away in his coat pocket.

Gotta warm your cold heart up, he thinks.

“Saving you from this freezing weather,” is what he says out loud.

But you know it’s because the movement brings you closer, he pulls you so you’re now shoulder to shoulder, and you’re not strong enough to keep your head from falling on his. As if you were fresh snow in the sun, you melt in his presence.

“Let’s go get cake,” your voice is but a soft whisper, running past him like the breeze through the dying leaves, the wind finally settling down.

And that’s how he ends up in your apartment. Sounds of wet skin slapping against one another fill the void as he buries himself deep inside of you.

The sweet pastries Ran bought long forgotten over your kitchen counter, as he’d much rather taste the honeyed nectar spilling from between your thighs.

He’s grabbing at them now, the hold on your flesh sure to leave marks behind as he folds your legs so that he can loop his arms under your knees, keeping you spread open for him.

Big body caging you under his warmth with his forehead pressed against yours, and open mouths a breath away from the other, sharing sounds of pleasure without ever meeting in the middle.

It had been a tantalizing dance when you first started sleeping together. Like most people in your situation, you had both concluded that it would be best if you refrained from kissing. Deeming it too intimate.

Ran had caved after the third time you ended up in his bed, lips too needy to be kept from yours. He had let out a soft plead before you met him in the middle.

From then on you made it your mission to never kiss him outside of your bedroom activities, too scared of the power his kisses held over you. He and his annoying self had taken it as a challenge, always on the edge of his seat waiting to see who’d kiss the other first.

“Oh fuck this,” Ran groans before giving in.

You catch sight of his eyelids fluttering shut, hiding that violet color that you love so much, and your lips lock in a kiss that takes your breath as much as the hips still snapping against yours.

The coarse patch of hair on his navel repeatedly brushes against your puffed-up clit, making your hips jump up to chase the friction. The man is shamelessly shallowing your moans and caressing your tongue with his, teeth closing around your bottom lip when you go to pull away.

“Ngh, you taste like cake.”

Ran had snuck a bite of one of the pieces the moment he stepped out of the bakery, and the sweet taste on his tongue was, in your opinion, way better than the real deal.

His hand grasps your chin with firmness, the tips of his fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your blushed lips pucker up.

“So you do like cake, mh?”

“No, I don-“ Ran squeezes harder, and your mouth parts. A glob of spit falls on your tongue, one that you shallow under his scrutinizing gaze.

The moan that he lets out at that reverberates through your chest as he bends so close your bodies are now completely pressed against one another, sharing body heat.

This is what sex with Ran is, a concoction of rough touches and fucking that turn soft and slow when you least expect it. He likes to tease and surprise you, stealing the prettiest sounds from your lips and making them his. Making you his.

“Y’don’t like cake, s’okay. I know you like me,” one of his hands teasingly pinches your right nipple, respective eye closing in a wink.

You like that he makes sex fun, cracking jokes as if his cock weren’t pumping inside of you. You like it, you like him, but you can’t have him know that.

“That’s not-“ he interrupts you once again, this time with the snapping of his hips. He starts fucking you like he means it. Calculated thrusts hitting against the sweet spot only he knows how to find.

Ran is on his knees now, hands firmly planted on your raised hips, guiding you back and forth over his length.

“Fuck! Ran, fuck that feels good- so good-“

Slurred words leave your panting mouth as your hands hold onto the pillow behind your head for dear life, back arched and chest exposed to the greedy eyes that are raking over your body. From your perked-up nipples, begging to be played with, to the way your cunt is stretching around his cock.

“Don’t have enough hands for the things I wanna do to you,” Nonetheless, he repositions his right one so that it’s splayed over your navel, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles on your slicked clit.

“Fuckin’ cunt squeezing me so good,” moans spill from your mouth at his words, his voice is strained but maintains that hint of icy superiority and poise that is characteristic of Ran.

The way your hole flutters around him is maddening, Ran can feel your walls clenching against his length so perfectly. He can feel everything.

As a matter of fact, so do you. No matter how dumb he fucks you, you can’t ever miss out on the sweet feeling of his bare skin caressing your wet cunt. The squelching sounds are filling the air around you, making your cheeks heat up and your head lull to the side, trying to avoid his eyes in shame.

Half face buried in the pillow, you beg for him, “Ran, please, please. I need to cum so bad.”

His thrusts slow down, thumb stilling over your clit, and you hear him hum, pensive.

“Maybe if you looked at me, pretty, I might think about letting you.”

Gathering your remaining strength, you open your eyes to the sight of his glorious body above yours.

The wetness of his skin shines under the light of the outside street lamp, peeking in from the window, full body tattoo so enchanting, you watch it move and bend over his rising chest.

With violet eyes fixed on yours, he stands tall, unreachable.

The purple strands that fall from his gelled-back hairstyle are the only giveaway that he’s not so perfect and pristine after all, but he still looks like a god in your devoted eyes.

“Ran,” you call his name so softly he tumbles from the skies right to you.

His body bends to lay over yours, weight supported by his arms at your sides. With a snap of his hips, he breaks the longing stare you’re both sharing, mushroom tip hitting the spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh my god, that feels so-“ “I know, baby, s’okay.” One of his hands caresses over your head, before stopping at your neck and closing around your windpipe. The pressure of his touch against your feverish skin is delicious.

Your nails are now creating indents in the flesh of his arms. You want more, you need him to break you.

Ran can’t stop thrusting, pounding, burying himself inside of you to the hilt. He’s never wanted to be this close to someone before, never needed their warmth as he does yours.

He stops you before you can reach your clit with your fingers and, wanting to be the one to take you over the edge, he uses his free hand to rub over it vehemently.

“Coming, I’m coming,” are the rushed words that fall from your lips before you hit your peak. Wanton moans are gracing Ran’s ears, making his balls strain from holding back, but he wants you to bask in the glow of your orgasm before he reaches his.

“Doin’ so well fo’ me, look at this pretty pussy. Gushing all over my cock.” He looks down as he says this, watching how good he’s splitting you open, his cock coming out of you covered with the white sheen of your arousal, then plunging back in.

Your spent body is overstimulated, twitching in his hold as if trying to run away from the pleasure.

“You’re the only one, baby.” Ran lets slip, the sight of you in your most vulnerable state makes him just as weak, “S’all yours, so take it.” And he means it, you’re the only one.

Before you, life used to be in black and white. Ran had tried everything to paint it some other color, from violence to sex, but nothing ever came close to holding you in his arms.

Color is always all around him, but Ran’s devoid of it until you touch him.

You pull him down to you at the confession, arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed against one another, hard nipples tickling the soft skin.

The pace suddenly turns slow, and you wonder if Ran does not care about coming anymore. His focus is on you, and you’re staring back at him with just as much affection.

“Let me take care of you,” it’s what you suggest once you’ve come down from your high, fingers pressing against his shoulders to have him lay back in the sheets. Short hair sprawled over the white pillow like a halo behind his troubled head.

Both of your thighs are circling his hips, too scared to have Ran pull out, and be prevailed by that sense of emptiness and cold that comes from being away from him.

Fighting a whirlpool of emotions, you feel the need to silence your mind with his lips on yours. The clashing of your noses does nothing to stop you from kissing each other passionately.

The blame should be on Ran for making you fall for him and gifting you a brand new reason to celebrate Christmas, but you should’ve known better when he walked into your life with that snarky smirk that makes you sigh just thinking about it. You bite his lip in retaliation.

The feeling of Ran’s hands traveling over your skin and sinking with his strong grip on the flesh of your hips is what makes you separate your two halves, pussy clenching around the length that has been filling you up so perfectly. The need to make him feel just as good swells up on the inside.

“Fuck, please,” A choked whisper, falling from the pearlescent of his lips, wet with your love, blood pouring out of the bitten skin.

Purple and red do look good together, you think.

Your hands are warm, trailing up his stomach like the ink on his skin. He feels as if you’re moving too fast, scared he might blink and lose the moment, and at the same time too slow for his liking. He’s begging and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. But you do.

Ran’s hands tighten around the bedsheets. He wants to touch everywhere you’ve been, wants to get stained in you. Like fresh paint that sticks on skin, he’s now colored in your shades.

Wet kisses are being left on the top of his shaft. Ran’s right hand finds your hair, waving his fingers between the loose strands to uncover the sight of your pretty face.

Lidded eyes are watching you glide your tongue down his hardness, caressing the bluish veins running across its sides, tasting yourself on it.

When your lips wrap around his sensitive tip you have to hold down his hips with both hands.

The peace you set is slow, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. His girth stretches your lips and he thumbs the lower one as you look up at him with tears forming at your lashline.

“Mouth feels like fucking heaven, angel.”

Ran can barely contain himself, dangling from the edge, his balls heavy with his release.

When your nose is buried in the hair at the base of his cock, you know you’ve successfully taken him whole. A huge accomplishment on your part, considering how blessed he is.

With your throat clenching around him, it doesn’t take long to feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Yeah, pretty girl, just like that. Make me cum, fuck!”

Bobbing your head at his request, you’re hasty in sucking your checks around his length, letting him come on the back of your tongue with languid moans that contain your name.

No need for him to ask, you’re one step ahead by swallowing his semen, making a show of it before leaving a wet kiss on his tip, to collect the white drop that was spilling over.

“Better than any cake.”

Booming laughter fills the space around you as you scoot closer to his tired body, laying on his naked frame and stealing all his warmth.

“I do like you.”

“I know,” Ran looks down at you, left check cutely smushed against his pecs, “Let’s spend New Year’s together.”

The faint movement of your hair brushing his skin tells him you’re agreeing, “And what about… next year?”

“Let’s spend them all together.”

You’re warm in his hold, and he figures the fairy lights might’ve come on in the park.

Ran thinks back to the rest of the untouched cake on your kitchen counter and is happy enough that the two of you have exchanged Christmas gifts in your own special way.

After all, he took away the cold, and you’ve brightened up his life.

That’s more of what you could’ve wished for.

#ran haitani #ran haitani imagines #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x y/n #ran haitani x you #ran imagines #ran smut #ran x oc #ran x reader

[bangtanmix73]

Ok so my idea was a Paul x reader where he and reader were best friends and had crushed on each other but when he started changing he had to leave reader behind and he says things to get reader to hate him so separating would be easier (like Jake did to Bella) and reader is heartbroken and sometime later, he meets reader again and imprints but reader is still angry about being left behind (angst with a happy ending) my favorite 👍👍

Please and thank you!!

A/n: I decided to change this up a bit and had Bella and reader become friends :). 

Just Leave It to Bella

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, slight cursing, Paul saying things that’d make me punch him, Y/N with a backbone, kind of sucks, Bella dragging around Y/N, Y/N knows they don’t make smart decisions, finished this around 2am so good luck, I’m bad at confrontation, does it show?

Paul had left you alone. Completely.

At first, it started out with him refusing to see you. Then, it was not answering your calls. And, finally, not answering you altogether. He was your best friend. You may have had a crush on him, but you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, so you kept quiet about it.  

You wanted to know what his problem was. You tried to talk to him at school, he’d ignore you, like he didn’t know you. If you called, his phone was on silent. If you texted, he became literate. Despite your efforts to keep your friendship, it seemed like it was over. You were hurt and angry. You attempted to get answers out of him one last time, but you wished you hadn’t.

---

You parked your car on the curb in front of your best friend's house. You stepped out as Paul came out of his house. You wasted no time storming up to him.

“What’s your problem? Why have you been ignoring me?” You practically threw the questions at him. Paul stumbled back a bit, clearing not expecting you to turn up at his house.

Quickly recovering, he fired back a “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nah, I want my answers first.” You glared up at him.  

Paul glared right back, strangely not meeting your gaze. “Fine, you want to know why I’m ignoring you? You are fucking annoying.” He spit, getting straight to the point. “The sound of your voice annoys me. The only reason I’ve ever kept you around was because I felt bad you had no other friends. You've always followed me around like a lost puppy. I wish you would just stay the fuck away from me.”

Yeah, that hurt, but that didn’t stop you from slapping. You wanted to punch him, but those stupid feelings inside you willed you not to.

“You’re an ignorant asshole, you know that?” You laughed, an empty cold laugh that sent chills up Paul’s back. “I hope you end up alone and those new friends you got leave you.” You smiled, sarcastically, before walking back to your car and drove away from your now ex best friend. You never saw that tear that ran down Paul’s face.

---

You weren’t going to lie, you were hurt. The anger had faded, but you still stood with what you said. You were sure it sounded pathetic, but it’s all you could come up with in that moment. It was months before you came out of your room and did anything and everything to distract yourself.

One normal rainy day, while you were in Forks, picking up some takeout, you ran into Bella Swan. She was in the same boat you were, her situation felt worse than yours. Her boyfriend dumped her in the middle of the woods, leaving her there, going to her childhood best friend for comfort after months of locking herself in her room, only doing exactly what Paul did, he left and made her heart break all over again. After that day, you traveled to Forks to visit Bella, becoming good friends with her. Becoming friends with her meant she dragged you along with her bullshit, but you stuck around anyway.

Today was another little ‘adventure’ with Bella. She was driving to Jacob Black’s house to confront him. She was going on about something about the Quileute being wolves? You had no idea, you just nodded along.

Bella parked her truck in the Black’s driveway. Bella got out, stomping up to the door, knocking, you rushed to catch up with her. A man in a wheelchair, who you guessed was Jacob’s dad, opened the door.

“Bella?”

“I need to see him.”

“He’s not in.” Bella looked like she was deciding something before pushing past him.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to see him.” She went straight for a door towards the back of the house.

“I’m sorry, so sorry.” You apologized, going around him, fast walking straight to Bella.

Right as you catch up to her, she’s going out the back door. This woman, you thought as you practically run to walk behind her.

“What did you do?” You peak around her to see four men she’s going straight for. As you got closer, you realized one of them was Paul. Fuck.

“What did you do to him?” She shoved into the tallest of them all. You pulled her back. “He didn’t want this!”

“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” Paul all but snarled at her.

“He doesn’t tell me anything because he’s scared of you.” Three of the men standing in front of you started laughing. You scoffed. Still an ignorant asshole.

Paul glanced over at you, “You shouldn’t be here.”

You rolled your eyes and glared at him, “And you should mind your business.”  

You caught a glimpse of his arms beginning to shake. You decided to follow your gut feeling and move.

“Bella, back up.” Thankfully, Bella also noticed his shaking and moved back with you. The man next to Paul was attempting to calm him down, but it didn’t help.

Then it happened. He turned into a giant dog. Your childhood best friend turned into a giant gray dog.

Bella started running, which was the smarter option, but you were frozen in shock.

The dog, wolf is the better word, started stalking towards you. Although, the wolf stopped in its tracks as it stared at you like it’s seeing you for the first time. You were standing there in more confusion than shock now.

The wolf made its way towards you again. That’s when you snapped out of it and began walking backwards. Your movement caused him to stop, whining as he leaned down into a bowing position. Something compelled you to be near him. With a cautious pace, you reached a hand out as you got closer. Paul raises his big head up, making you freeze. To your surprise, he licked your hand. You took it as a sign to kneel down in front of him. Petting his head, you look behind you to see Bella and Jacob not far behind you.

“So, he’s not going to hurt us?” Bella stood halfway behind Jacob.

You shrugged, “I guess not?” You more questioned than stated.

The man from earlier, which at this point, you guessed was the leader, came around and stood next to Paul. “Phase back, Paul. You got some things to explain.”

You moved back, allowing him to stand to his full height while also standing up. You watched him trot into the forest where he came from.  

“Take them back to Emily’s place, I’ll catch up with Paul.”

“Guess the wolf’s out of the bag.”

You faced Bella, sighing, “Leave it to you to drag me into some weird shit.”

---

You were now standing next to Bella, nibbling on a muffin Emily offered you while Bella picked at hers. You were filled in a bit about what they were and their names. Embry, as he introduced himself, said Paul ‘imprinted’ on you. When you asked, they wouldn’t elaborate on what exactly an ‘imprint’ was.

Sam, the ‘alpha’, and Paul sauntered into the house. Sam went for Emily while Paul didn’t go far past the doorway. He caught your gaze; he signaled you to follow him.

“I’ll be back. Don’t leave without me please.” You mumbled to Bella before chasing after him.

He waited until you were further away from the house to say something.

“I’m sorry,” he stopped in his tracks, turning to face you, making you stop as well. “About what I said that day and for leaving you. Sam ordered us to stop talking to anyone we had before the shift.”

You scoffed, “I don’t give a damn if you turn into a giant wolf or not, that gave you no right to say to me. I won’t accept it, so don’t bother using that as an excuse.”

“I get that.” Paul was quick to change the subject. “I’m guessing they told you about us?”

You nodded, “Yeah, they also said you imprinted. What does imprinting mean?”

“Imprinting is like when you see them, they’re all that matters. It’s no longer gravity, they are the only one keeping you here. You’d do anything for them, their happiness, their safety. It doesn’t have to be a romantic relationship. It can be a brother, a best friend, a protector or something more. She’s... you.” Paul took a breath, “I’ll understand if you reject the bond.”

Despite his words, his expression was strained. While you were upset at his words that day, you were still in love with him. But you were not going to give in easily.

“Look, even after what you said, I still have feelings for you.” You admitted.

“Feelings?” Paul asked, looking puzzled.

You reluctantly answered, “I’ve had a crush on you since we were kids.” Your gaze moved along the trees, wanting to look at anything but him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Paul had his signature smirk plastered on his face. You shook your head, unable to stop your own grin, “Shut up, Paul.”

He chuckled, moving your face to look back at him. “I had feelings for you, too.”

Paul leaned in to kiss you, you pulled yourself back from him, laughing.

“Hell no. Your words still sting. As far as I’m concerned, you’re working for it if you want anything.” You stated, making him groan.

#twilight x reader #twilight imagine #twilight wolfpack #twilight saga #twilight #twilight wolfpack x reader #twilight wolfpack imagine #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader

[thewritetofreespeech]

BG3 - Taking care of sick Reader

prompt: I'm sick. so I wrote this up to help me feel better.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Your head throbs in tandem with your own heartbeat. Pain coursing through your body with every stifled breath you take, as your tight chest struggles to fill with air. It had been a long time since you were sick. You nearly forgot how uncomfortable it was. Without the tadpoles protective qualities shield you anymore, this new wave hit you like a stone wall. You almost wished to have it squirming mass back in your brain just to be over this. Luckily, you were not alone at least.’

Astarion

“There there darling, allow me.” He handed you a small cup of water. Letting you sip from it for a bit before he put it back, and you fall back against the bed. “You still look awful.”

You glare at him; or at much as you could with this pain behind your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean…you must still be feeling bad and that is unfortunately for you.”

He sat on the edge of your bed, just looking at you. You can see a bit of concern on his handsome face. You wonder if he’s worried about you or what to do. “I’ve never had to take care of anyone who was sick before. I don’t know what to do.” So, it was the former. “Vampires can’t get sick. So I’ve spent the last few centuries in perfect health, minus a few injuries here & there.” He told you. “Should I…get you a new blanket? Prop your head up? Make soup? I’ve never actually made soup before either, but I’m sure I could be up to the challenge.”

You reach out and take his hand in yours. The cool feel of his skin a welcome reprieve against your warm, clammy one. - Just stay with me.

Astarion smiled. “I can do that.” He curled around to lay in the bed beside you. With no fear of sickness, he had no reason to stay away from you until this past. Your body letting out a sigh as his coolness enveloped you. Feeling some of your heat sap out, even over the covers. “You know, maybe I have a knack for this healing thing.” You let him think that, and curl into Astarion’s body to rest and try to regain your strength back. Sleep is easier this time. Hopefully you’ll be better soon enough.

Ascended!Astarion

Coughing and sputtering, you try to sit up as to not choke on your own spittle. An undignified end for a hero. To vanquish so many enemies and an Elder Brain, only to die by asphyxiating on their own sick.

“Still not feeling well, my treasure?” You look up to see Astarion standing in the doorway. His face neutral as ever, but with just the slightest hint of disdain only you can pick up on at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it’s the smell. Or perhaps because now you are so weak. “I bet you wish you had taken me up on my offer now, hm? This wouldn’t be happening to you if you had just listened to me.”

You watch him as he sauntered over to the side of your bed. Annoyed by his comments. You knew deep down Astarion was still hurt that you turned him down on becoming his spawn. He said such cruel things to you in the moment. Even with all that power, still the boy who lashed out at other. But even with everything he said, he’d never left you. Or more to the point you hadn’t left him, as this was his palace, but he hadn’t pushed you out. Comments and jabs here & there said out of latent anger, but always some excuse quickly on why you couldn’t leave just yet.

“Nothing can be done about it now though. I wouldn’t dream of biting you in this state. Agh…” You felt the shutter was uncalled for. You felt bad enough psychically already. Did you really need to be degraded too? “In any case, I’ve had the servants go and fetch you somethings to aid in your recovery. I wouldn’t know the first thing about mortal illnesses after all but they seem to know the trick.”

– Say nothing to him

Bending down at the waist, Astarion pressed his lips to your forehead. The cool touch soothing to your feverous brow. “Ugh. Salty. I’ll be much happier when you’re back to normal, pet. Anyway, must dash. If you need or want anything, please let the servants know. I’ve instructed them to tend to your every need, and expect no slip ups. I look forward to having a new conversation when you’re…better, my treasure.”

You knew, even as he left, what the conversation was going to be about. Another offer to turn you again. You had only turned him down before because you thought you’d have more time to decide. It was literally a life-changing decision. But, laying here, sick and weak as a kitten, you were beginning to wonder if the change might not be a welcome one, as you fall back asleep.

Gale

“Alright love. Here we are.”

You open your eyes and sit up. A little as a tray was sat across your lap. Bread, fruit slices, a bowl of something steaming, and…a flower, all adorn the tray in front of you, and you arch a brow at Gale. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to feed you any strange potions or what not. Despite all my magic and study, there seems no cure for the common cold. No, no, this is just good old kitchen ‘magic’. A Dekarios family recipe past down for generations.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. You trust Gale though and take your first bite. It is delicious.

“I’m glad you like it.” Gale told you with a smile. “I must admit, I feel a bit conceded in this moment in being able to help you. I wish I could say it was pure altruism, or concern for your health, but it’s not.”

- What do you mean?

“Well, I’ve never had someone to take care of before.” He told you. “Mystra never needed anything of me but my loyalty. And…my body from time to time. You need me for things though. Not as often as I would like sometimes. Your independence is a marvel still. But for now, I get to help you. Help you on the road to recovery. I hope it is a speedy one but I have to say,” he reached out and took your hand in his own, “I don’t mind taking care of you.”

You suppose his underlying message was sweet, and you weakly squeeze his hand back.

“I’ll leave you to eat and rest then. Should you need anything, anything at all, just ring this bell and I’ll come to help.” A bright, crystal bell appeared in Gale’s hand, which he presented to you before putting it on your tray. “Be well darling.” He gave you a quick kiss before he saw himself out. Checking on you regularly, with or without the bell, to make sure you didn’t need anything.

Wyll

“Still feeling under the weather then?” You look up to see Wyll entering the room. A bowl of something in his hand. “Come on. Sit up. You need to eat this.”

- Continue to lay down.

“Come on…don’t be like that.” Wyll moved to help you up with his free hand. As delicate and gentle as a badger as he hoisted you up. “Here. This will help you well better.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. It smelled of spices though. Rich and full, as well as a red color to it. To humor Wyll, you take a bite.

- It’s spicy!

“Of course it is. That’s how you know it helps. Tri-pepper soup. My grandmother used to make it for me when I was sick as a boy.” You stop gulping the water by your bed and look at Wyll. “Since my mother was gone, she took care of me often when my father was away. The duties of his work, then Flaming Fist, and then again Grand Duke kept him away a lot. So, she stepped in to take care of me. Until she got older, I had to take care of her. ‘til the end.”

You lower your spoon and just watch Wyll. The loss etched on his face like his scars. For someone usually so good natured, you forget how much he had lost in his life.

“But! Her recipes live on. Now, eat your soup to help sweat out the sickness. And you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I guarantee it.”

You feel a little manipulated into eating the spicy dish. How could you say no to such a fine, dead woman’s recipe? It takes a lot of will, but you eventually gulp it all down. Wyll seemed pleased. He then took your bowl and left you to rest. Your stomach churning with the spicy soup now bubbling in it. Unable to fall back asleep with the torrent raging in your gut.

Shadowheart

A cool towel pressed against your forehead like a soft caress. Gentle and serene.

“I wish there was more I could do for you.” Shadowhearts voice called out behind the dark of your eyes. “My magic is only for curing wounds and battle ailments. Sicknesses well…being a source of comfort was not something that was taught to me.”

You want to tell Shadowheart that she was doing a fine job. But your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like it was made of iron it was so heavy in your mouth.

“I can’t recall a time I was sick like this in the past. But I do remember once I was poisoned. Part of my training. Warriors of Shar must be immune to all poisons, least we fail our mistress in such an unseemly way. Anyway, it was horrible. I would writhe in pain for hours while I waited for the poisons to pass. Nocturne would come in now & then, with Mother Superior was busy, and dab my head like this. It helped. I hope it helps you all the same.”

- Turn towards Shadowheart and tell her thank you.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Shadowheart replied with a sweet smile. “After everything you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do.”

Shadowheart took the cloth away and stood from the bed. “I’ll let you rest now. I can…find some herbs and salts to maybe help with the pain. Again, this is not my forte. Eliminating pain. But…I can try.”

She rushed out of the room. Set on her task as you continued to lay in bed. Slowly drifting off to sleep for now, now that your skin was not so hot and your mind a little clearer.

Lae'zel

“What are you still doing in bed?” You turn to look at Lae'zel in your doorway. Her frame stoic and strong as ever. “There is much to be done today. We must make hast.”

- I can’t Lae'zel. I’m sick.

“tas'ki! Absurd. You’re much stronger than some istik disease. Get up and get moving. Your body will not heal if you continue to wallow in this manner.”

You try to sit up as Lae'zel commanded, but your head swims the second you get upright. Lae'zel sucked on her teeth. “Nevermind. Clearly you are in no condition to be out of bed today. I am unaccustomed to this, as no true Githyanki would dream of falling ill and be a burden on their crèche. Perhaps rest is what is needed.”

Before you can tell her thank you, Lae'zel went over to the window and opened it. Letting the cool, fresh air in. “But you must leave this window open to purge the sickness out. Wallowing is one thing, but to marinate in such sick? Disgusting.” You glare at her a little. Not appreciating that she was implying that this was all your plan.

“I will leave you to your rest and check on your progress later. I trust your recovery will be swift.” Lae'zel stepped closer to the bed. Still far enough away, but closer than she was. “Get well soon. It pains me to see a warrior like you weakened this way. And someone I am fond of. It crushes my heart. I do not like it.”

Your face turns into one of surprise at Lae'zel’s back as she left the room. Closing the room behind her. You had not expected that from Lae'zel. To show open concern. The room was much colder now, but the crisp air was a welcome expanse in your lungs. You would need to get up to close them later, but perhaps that was Lae'zel’s plan all along.

Karlach

“Hey their soldier. Feeling any better?” You lull your head to the side to stare at Karlach. “Oof. That good eh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

She pulled up a chair by your bed and sat down. Face still in that almost perpetual smile of hers. Optimistic as ever, although a bit more tepid than usual. “But hey, you’ll be fine though. You’re tough! I’d check if you had a fever or something but…you know.” Karlach held up her hand. Still fiery and hot from her infernal engine, even if she was gifted to touch. “I wouldn’t be the best judge on who runs hot.”

The two of you sat there for a bit in quite. But quite was never long with Karlach. “So how do you think you got sick? Too long out in that swamp marsh? Going to sleep with wet hair again? Like, when I get stabbed, I know exactly where it came from. Do you know when you got bit by the sickness bug?”

- I don’t know Karlach. Please let me rest.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. Guess that doesn’t help. I’m just worried…you know…that this might not be something I can help you fight. Monster, demi-gods, ghouls, I can fight that all day! But this…you have to do it on your own. And I hate sitting by the side lines.”

Karlach stood. Leaning in to give you a brief, warm peck on your cheek. “I’ll let you get some sleep then. But let me know if you want some company. I’m really good at that part.”

The tiefling then left, and the room suddenly felt emptier without her presence. Like a void had just sucked up all the energy without Karlach in it. Still, you fell asleep. Trying to think of interesting dreams that you might share with Karlach when you wake up. You were sure she would enjoy that.

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 imagine #baldur's gate imagine #bg3 scenarios #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate scenarios #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x tav #ascended astarion x reader #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion #gale x reader #gale x tav #karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #shadowheart #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x tav #lae'zel #lae'zel x reader #laz'el x tav #wyll #bg3 wyll

[kpopcafeeee]

Taste you later- bangchan

Pairing: vampire bangchan x fem! Reader

Genre: smut, strangers to lovers kinda, vampire x reader

Warnings: vampire bangchan, biting, mentioning of blood, size kink, kissing, drinking blood, smut, oral (f receiving), head, choking, begging, passionate sex at a little at first but then rough, a lot I can’t explain fr

Summary: your date cancelled on you so you sat alone in a bar all alone until a strange man but not so strange man came in and sat directly beside you.

A/N: sorry it took a long time to post I have been busy but I’m still gonna post stories you guys this better blow up or else jk but I’ve been wanting to make a story about big daddy bangchan (IM SORRY) with size kink 🤔

“Hey are you coming” you say with a questioned tone “I’m sorry I’ll be there in a while” your date said and so You waited and waited and…waited. your all alone in a bar cause your date cancelled on you at the last minute and your too sad right Now and decided to have a drink before leaving.

The bar felt a little strange like someone was watching you from afar but you shook it off and decided to drink some more before leaving a strange man walked up to the bar and sat there he didn’t order anything at all but when he did all he did was a snap of his fingers and the bartender brung him a red liquid drink like he was the owner of the bar or something but when you were about to stand up and leave there was something making you stay it was a strange feeling like you couldn’t move you tried shaking it off like you did the first time but this time it was more stronger then it just stopped

When you headed out the bar their were a few people outside probably waiting for their car or something you had the guy that canceled on you called you a Uber get home cause of how guilty he felt about making you come out and he wasn’t even there he told that the Uber would be on the other side of the bar and that you would just have walk the backside of the bar but first you had to walk through a alley way to get there when you walked into the alley it felt like someone was there following you and when you turned around for a few seconds you saw a figure it was a muscular and in shape figure until it just disappeared into the dark you thought it was just some weirdo that was trying to do something weird or some crack head (sorry don’t do crack btw!) but you brushed it off then u made it to your Uber and got home.

You were so tired that all you wanted to do was take a shower and go to sleep and as soon as you got home you went straight to the bath to wash away the feeling that someone was watching you you then got out of the shower and went straight to your bed after putting some clothes on and as soon as you got into the bed you tried to go to sleep but all you did was twist and turn in your bed until you were completely comfortable and could sleep.

When you looked in the corner of your room you saw that same figure that you saw in the alley way and just right when you were about to scream your lungs out and call the police he disappeared an reappeared at the end of your bed and placed his index finger on his lips to make you be quiet he looked just alike the guy from the bar that gave you a strange feeling but why would you be having a dream about a stranger that you don’t even know at all until he snapped you out of thoughts by rubbing your lower leg and looking up at you you don’t know why and how but this man made you aroused you were confused and it didn’t feel real at all he then started to crawl up to you to close the distance between you two and after a few seconds he kissed you you didn’t know what kinky Shit this was but it was getting good(SORRY) and you caught off guard by him kissing you so that made it easier to slip his tongue in your mouth and play with yours after a few minutes he gave you a break from the make out and started to leave soft wet kisses down your neck until he was stopped by your shirt and then a snap of his fingers the room and the vibe changed it wasn’t even your room anymore it was some big room with a big bed “w-what is this” you said “don’t worry princess I’ll taste later but right now enjoy what I’m giving you” he said while take your shirt off you and leaving you shirtless you didn’t have nothing under that shirt you was wear except you underwear and bra so it was easy.

He then started back to kissing down your stomach until he stops over your cunt his hot breath hitting your cunt make you more wetter and desperate he then practically ripped off your panties making you squeal in surprise “sorry but I had to baby” he said looking up at you with a mischievous smirk on his then headed back to what he was doing he then stoped in front of your heat “such a pretty cunt” he said licking his lips he then wrapped your legs around his should and started to eat you out like a starved man his nose hitting your clit every time strings of moans came out of your mouth then you gripped his hair for the sake of your life and started to ride against his face and gripping his hair for dear life making him groan “cum for me” said while looking up at you and after a few seconds you cumed against his tongue you rode your high off on his tongue.

he then wrapped your legs around his waist and all he had on now were only his briefs he then pulled them down until his cock can get some air, his cock slapping his abdomen he was big with a red tip that look like it was about to burst with a little curve at the end “I-I don’t think it will fit” you say wondering how the hell will he fit down there “I’ll make it fit princess” he said and with That he lined his tip with your wet cunt and sticked it in slowly to make sure you ok and when he balls deep in you he bottomed out and groaned “s-shit” he said he then went slowly to test the waters and see if you were ok “p-pleas go faster” you said half in a whimper “whatever you want princess” he said and with that he went faster and faster until he hit your g spot and that made you moan louder he then started to bite and suck at your neck to cover his groans leaving bite marks and marks on your neck that you knew were probably gonna be there for a week or two “f-fuck” you say when he hits your g spot again you claw at his back “cum on my cock princess” he then put his free hand that wasn’t holding him up from falling on your your throat making your airway closed just by him saying that and doing that make you wetter “f-fuck” you say in a whimper and that was your second orgasm of tonight

and after inhuman pace he cummed inside of you painting your walls some of his cum leaking out of your still tight cunt “sorry princess” he said with beads of sweat on his making his hair stick to his forehead he then gave you one last kiss.

When you woke up you were still in your bedroom and not with him you thought you were going crazy at first and thought it was just a dream until you felt something wet and sticky in your underwear you looked to what it was and it was cum and a huge amount you and you got up to check anything else with wrong and when you looked in the mirror there was bite marks all over body.

Maybe it wasn’t a dream maybe it was but you promised you would find that guy

The End

Sorry if it didn’t make no damn sense at all but it’s thought that counts People!!!!😏😌 but prob will be a part two tell if you want one and I will but byeeee

By:kpopcafeeee

#send requests #stray kids #bangchan smut #bang chris #bangchan stray kids #bang chan x female reader #christopher bang #stray kids bang chan #chris bang #stray kids smut #stray gods #kpop smut #skz smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bangchan hard hours #bangchan hard thoughts

[writerscall]

i cannot be your friend, so i pay the price of what i lost. and what it cost now that we don't talk.

because pushing her away was easier than having to stomach seeing her be with someone else.

author's note/s: 1k words. this is part one of a series. close friends to sad strangers to surprise college roommates is a trope, right?

Ignoring Hazel for the rest of the year wasn’t an easy decision or any easy thing to do. You two weren’t attached at the hip but you were such good friends that even the people who didn’t really talk to either of you eventually asked if you two had a falling out. We’re both just pretty busy at this time of senior year, you’d tell them; you had no idea what Hazel’s answer was to that, and you didn’t wanna know. It hurt you to ice her out but after what happened at the game, you just couldn’t be around her. Not when it was clear that PJ was in the picture like that.

Really, you should’ve been happy for her. You were one of the first people she came out to and even though she never explicitly said it, you knew she wanted to experience one relationship, or even a sort of fling, before high school ended. But your wishful thinking that it could’ve been the two of you in the end like some cliche really was just that — wishful thinking. That kiss and the way she and PJ acted around each other after said it all.

So you blocked it all out. Joined some clubs to fill up your schedule and actually make you as busy as you said you were, focused on academics like never before, got closer to other friends (for obvious reasons but also, why the hell not? It was senior year and you might not see some of them again). Overall, there were pros to what you decided to do about your crush on Hazel Callahan. You were making the most out of a sucky situation.

What you weren’t proud of was deciding to go out with the baseball team’s captain on a whim, and then agreeing to really date him after. He was nice and was a pretty good boyfriend, but you weren’t as into him as he was into you. But that was the least of your concerns throughout that relationship that inevitably came to an end as graduation neared.

You’ll never forget the complicated look on her face the day he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek at your locker. You’ll never forget the ‘Can we talk now? Please?’ text she sent that night, her last attempt at reaching out before she took to ignoring you too.

And that was it. Hazel wasn’t part of your senior year until its end and you assumed it would be the same for the rest of your life, or at least for a long, long time.

But the universe just loved playing cruel tricks sometimes.

“Okay, you’re sure you’ve got everything? Those new notebooks, your writing materials, enough bras and pa—”

“Okay, mom!” You cut her off with a nervous laugh, silently thanking god that your roommate and whoever was helping her move in hadn’t arrived yet. “I’ve got it all, I promise. It’s okay for you to go now.”

Your mother sighs as she reaches out to give your arm a squeeze, and after a few more pointers for your first day and about five ‘you can always give us a call for anything’ reminders, you were alone. You smile to yourself as you look at your fixed up side of the dorm, jittery in a good sense. Everyone said college was different from high school in the best way and you were determined to make it so. Even though you knew how much busier and hectic life would get with university level academics.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t hear the door open. It’s only when that painfully familiar voice says your name that you snap out of it.

Hazel Callahan, practically the same as ever, standing in the doorway with her luggages and a duffel bag across her body. She manages a smile, small and hesitant. To your surprise, all you can say is, “You’re my roommate?”

Her face twitches in disappointment, smile faltering noticeably. You didn’t mean for that to come off the way it clearly did but the question escaped you before you could think. Of all the people in the world — or even just of all the people in high school, it just had to be her? You were over Hazel. You’d tried so hard and honestly haven’t thought about her much at all since graduation.

Only for all that effort to feel like it was undone within seconds. Fantastic.

“Trust me, I… I didn’t know this would be the arrangement. My mom’s got an old friend here who could probably do a room switch for one of us — I mean, for me I guess, you’ve already got your side of the room fixed up while I’m still all packed, so—”

You put a hand up to stop her. “Hazel, it’s fine. We can share this room. All that stuff from…” You let the sentence trail off and clear your throat. “I mean, it doesn’t matter anymore, it never really has.”

Though expecting her to brighten even slightly at your attempt at an olive branch, her expression stays the same. Complicated actually, like the one she had upon seeing you and your (short-lived) senior year boyfriend for the first time in school. You try not to think about it.

“Anyway, I’ve got some things to go check with the registrar’s office, so I’ll get out of your hair so you can unpack and all that.” There was nothing to check with at the registrar’s office, but you needed to find some place that wasn’t your dorm to pull yourself together. Or maybe scream.

There’s a look of understanding on her face but shakes her head at you. “You wouldn’t be in the way. We could use this time to catch up. It’s been a long while, you know?”

Well, you certainly weren’t ready for that, so you just say something about wanting to get to the office while it wasn’t too busy yet. You cast her a side glance with a smile that you really hoped didn’t look forced or fake as you watch her bring in her things, then make a beeline for the door. 

But you stop when she asks, “Hey, um, maybe we can sit with each other at the orientation tomorrow?”

“Uh… yeah, sure.” And you knew that didn’t sound forced or fake with the way Hazel almost grins at you.

Yeah, you really needed to find a place to scream somewhere on campus.

#hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan fanfic #hazel callahan