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yuwuta · 5 months

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AFTERGLOW. — JJK BOYS + JEALOUSY

❝tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine, even when i've lost my mind

featuring. gojo, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu

content. a character study in jealousy, no content warnings, no smut in this version, fem reader

word count. 2.8k

SATORU GOJO You’re attempting to finish getting ready for the evening and Satoru has taken his favorite activity: filing through every crevice of your room like he’d been hired as a private investigator. Even though he knows that you know that he’s nothing more than a nosy idiot, Satoru claims that it’s an important and intimate routine that he should know the ins and outs of your living space just as well as you know his—“You know exactly where I keep my boxers, and I don’t even think I’ve seen the inside of your closet—oh, hey, this is cute,” he grins, sticking out his impossibly long arm to shake a thin, lacy bodysuit on a hanger, “How come you’ve never shown me this, huh? Maybe you should wear this instead, it seems easier to take—ouch.”

He groans at the impact of your hairbrush against his shoulder, then swiftly proceeds to pout and whine about how mean you are to him when you return to ignoring him in favor of applying the final touches to your makeup. Your closet seems to be of little interest to him after that, as Satoru crosses the room to hover around you at your vanity instead. He leans in too closely, as if watching you apply bronzer was a novel sight to him. You flip your brush quickly, barely tapping at his nose and laughing at his scrunched reaction.

“Your reflexes aren’t so sharp today,” you tease. You’re prepared for a witty response, and when you glance, there’s a familiar mischief shimmering in your boyfriend’s eyes; but, then his gaze ventures slightly past you, and all signs of playfulness drain from his face. Instead of getting revenge, or annoying you further, Satoru reaches over your body and into a shallow jewelry dish to pick up the bracelet he’d spotted. It’s a dainty little thing, thin gold with a small heart in the middle glittering with shiny stones, that he threads along his fingers with scrutiny before standing up straight to dangle it in front his face for further inspection, “This is new to me.”

Perhaps you’d spoken too soon, because only Satoru would spot that one piece of jewelry amongst the others swimming the tray. His eyes flutter between the bracelet and you, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head, and the accusation he won’t say outloud—did you buy yourself heart-shaped jewelry, or is there something else going on here?

You sigh and keep your expression and voice neutral, your attention seemingly still focused on the finishing touches of your makeup, “It’s new to you because I haven’t worn it in years,” you tell him, “My ex gave it to me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you occupy yourself with your mascara, before Satoru speaks, “That makes sense, it doesn’t look all that promising. What is it—barely gold plated?” he taunts, sweeping away his air of concern with one of mockery, standing up straight to twirl the bracelet around his index finger, “Figures your ex boy toy had no taste for the finer things in life. You’re worth more than this, my darling.”

You shake your head with light laughter, patting in the remnants of your setting spray before standing. Satoru continues on, rambling about the poor construction of your commercially produced bracelet—holds it between his index finger and thumb like it’ll poison him if he exposes it to too much of his skin, and you can’t help but smile as you reach for the lapel of his blazer to pull him down for a kiss. He has no words of objection to this, pulling you in by the waist for another and another and another, before you finally pull away, “Come, let’s go. I don’t feel like getting lectured by Utahime for your tardiness again.”

You’re too preoccupied for the rest of the evening to notice the item missing from your jewelry dish. What you do notice, two afternoons later, shortly after Satoru has left to pick up Nanami from the airport, is a blue velvet box with your name written in pretty, gold cursive along the top—and inside, a gold tennis bracelet, glittering with diamonds, with a necklace to match. You have no doubt they’re legitimate, if not for the way the sparkle, then by the text that rings through on your phone after you question Satoru:

from: satoruwu 🫧🩵 — only the best for my baby <33

TOGE INUMAKI

Toge knows that the price of coffee has gotten way out of hand, but what bothers him more is the decreasing pace of said coffee getting made and the increase of crazy, caffeine addicted people who feel the need to be loud around him while he’s waiting for his drinks. You, however, seem to take pleasure in his suffering, as you always thank him and coo, saying he looks cute despite his grumbly demeanor, “You always look like you fought a war for two cups of coffee, Toge.”

He rolls his eyes as he steps into your apartment, not minding the sound of your giggling behind him. He sets the drinks on your island, and pulls out a stool to sit on. You round the marble, reaching him just as he’s pulled down his mask for a thank you kiss to his cheek. He wants to make you suffer for longer, but when you lean against him, he can’t help but to return the hug and kiss your forehead—you’re welcome, always.

Still, he pokes at your head, waits until you dig your head out of his shoulder with curious eyes, before he points to the Keurig sitting in the corner of one the wall-mounted counters, and moves his hands to sign, “Why keep that if you spend all my money on coffee?”

“Rude. I offer to pay all the time,” you chide, poking at his collar bone and standing straight. You make your way back to the opposite side of the counter, and reach to a drawer to fetch a straw, before shrugging, “My ex left it here when we broke up. I keep it for the aesthetic—I’m not even sure if it works.”

A myriad of thoughts runs through Toge’s mind—most importantly: had your ex left other things here, and how quickly could he get rid of them?

“Besides,” you break his murderous train of thought, “None of the pods make good espresso. Couldn’t even make my hot girl latte if it worked.”

“Your ‘hot girl latte’ is iced,” Toge signs.

Under normal circumstances, a comment like that would earn him a flick to the forehead, but you can tell that behind the sarcasm, Toge is actually upset. So, in lieu of teasing him, you walk back over to him; settling yourself behind his stool to give him a back hug. You lean your cheek against his shoulder and press a small kiss there, “You’re cute.”

Toge huffs, shaking his shoulders for dramatic effect. You laugh, leaning up to give him another kiss on the cheek. “You’re cute and you have nothing to worry about. It’s an old coffee machine.”

He hums, taking another sip of his coffee before turning, barely bumping the top of your forehead, so you can see his raised eyebrow. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, “You’re cute, and you have nothing to worry about, and I love you.”

He finally smiles again, content, and grants you another kiss to your forehead. With his mood back to normal, the two of you finish your coffee and carry on with your scheduled study session as normal (normal being Toge leaving you alone for all of twenty-seven minutes, before he starts taking videos of you with various outrages Snapchat filters on).

However, the following day when you return from your classes, there’s four new items on your kitchen counter: a silver espresso machine, a reusable Starbucks cup (already filled with your usual drink), a neatly folded apron decorated with cartoon Shiba Inus, and a small card with Toge’s bubbly handwriting on it: “Don’t worry, I’ll still pay for you $6 pink drinks, but if you wanted to thank me by making coffee in just the apron, then I wouldn’t complain ;)”

KENTO NANAMI Kento is a rational man; he favors using logic to carry out decisive actions, rather than letting his emotions get the best of him. So, the rational part of him knows that it’s not a big deal that the lunch bag and bento-style tupperware you bring to work was a gift from your ex-girlfriend; but there’s a small, ugly, green part of him overrun with jealousy and another bitter-tasting feeling he can’t quite name.

Because it’s not that important. It makes sense that you keep using them—the lunch bag is nice, leather, sleek, and insulated, and the tupperware is sturdy and functional. The whole system is sustainable, practical. It was a good present, one that objectively serves a good purpose whether or not it was given by an ex or not.

Maybe that’s what he hates so much. That this person still has room in your life, even though you haven’t spoken to them since you’ve met him. Kento doesn’t like that reminder—that there are people out there who might be a good fit for you, a better one than him. Those ugly feelings aside, there’s a sour taste in his mouth when he packs your lunch now; knowing that the food he cooked for the two of you—the meal you’re both going to indulge in—sits in a container gifted to you by an ex-lover.

Irrational to the point of being unfocused, he doesn’t realize how close the glass is to the edge of the counter, and when he turns to scoop more rice, he accidentally knocks it over with his elbow. It breaks into tiny pieces on the ground, the small portion of rice and chicken spilling onto the ground. The sound draws you out of your bedroom, mascara wand in hand and robe still on to call for him, “Kento? Everything okay?”

“I… it was an accident,” he explains, setting the spoon down in favor of reaching for a napkin, dropping to his knee with a light sigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it.”

Your laughter surprises him, prompts him to look up at you with broken glass shards pooled in his palm, “You don’t have to worry so much! It happens, we have a million more.”

There’s something about the way you don’t seem to acknowledge it being special to you in any way—Kento’s not even sure if you recognize what broke—that reassures him. Because it really was an accident, but Kento doesn’t mind that he managed to break this particular plate.

When he shoos you back to getting dressed, he finishes picking up the broken glass shards. There’s a certain lightness to his actions now, petty as it may be, he’s happy. Spends extra time writing a note for you to see when you unpack your food before he retires to the bathroom to start getting ready himself.

Maybe he could do something about that lunchbox next. You don’t seem to mind.

YUUTA OKKOTSU Thursdays are Yuuta’s favorite day of the week because on Thursdays, you two meet up at your spot, which is really just a set of twin benches in the west quad, but it’s your place and Yuuta loves it. You will have reserved a study room in your favorite library, and Yuuta will buy snacks for your study session before you both head to the library in an attempt to finish up your work for the week in order to keep your Friday evenings free.

Yuuta usually gets to the bench before you, a combination of the engineering building being a little bit closer, and his legs being a lot longer. He doesn’t mind waiting for you, as it’s usually his first time seeing you in two days (your Tuesdays are too packed for anything other than a shared coffee break between lectures, and Wednesdays are his hell days), and spotting you through the crowd of dissipating students always brings a smile to his face.

You look cute today, an oversized sweater enveloping your frame that Yuuta can imagine you cozying into and nearly dozing off in your dreaded microbiology lecture. He laughs to himself at the mental image, just as you stop in front of him to ponder, “Something funny?”

Yuuta shakes his head, leaning down to kiss your forehead with a proper greeting. “Nothing,” he reassures you, reaching around to pull your backpack off of your shoulders, and slings it over one of his, “You look cute. Did you mean to buy a sweater big enough to double as a blanket?”

“The oversized look is in,” you scrunch your nose and roll your eyes, letting Yuuta take your hand in his despite his teasing, “I don’t even think I bought this, honestly. It might be Todo’s? Or Toge’s—it might even be Maki’s at this point.”

Yuuta freezes. He feels the world stop and a million different emotions surge through him at once, but the most prevalent of them all is something ugly and green. He could deal with Toge, though he doubts he’s the culprit. While you two shared a penchant for oversized clothing, Toge was more often than not the thief, rather than the lender, and he’s pretty good at keeping his collection of stolen goods under lock and key. Maki was out of the question, too, because you shared a class with Nobara earlier today, and there’s no way you’d have made it out of there wearing her girlfriend’s sweater.

So it probably was Todo’s. And Yuuta had said you looked cute. Though he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, his moment of self-pity is waning, and overcast by something steely, something too-hot bubbling in his chest. The question of why you have it goes over his head—he’s not concerned with that, nor will he fault you for it—the matter at hand is that you’re wearing it. And, sure, Yuuta thought you looked good in it before, but he could name sixteen other things you’d look better in at this very moment.

You’ve gone on to ramble about something that happened earlier, but Yuuta’s not listening. He drops your hand first, then both of your backpacks on the bench behind him, before tapping at your wrists. You don’t seem to understand him, cocking your head to the side with a pensive expression, but Yuuta only taps at your wrists again with a simple command, “Up.”

It doesn’t seem like you understand, but you follow anyway, and Yuuta is pulling the sweater up and off of your body before you can question him. He tosses it onto the bench with little care, then removes his white jacket and places it atop your backpacks. “What are—” you don’t have time to finish before he’s pulled his own hoodie off his body, and slid it over your head.

Yuuta smooths out the fabric under his palms with a satisfied grin on his face. Much better.

“Aw, Yuuta!” you bring a hand to tug at the strings of the hood, a wicked smile replacing your dazed blinking, “I didn’t know you were so possessive.”

You tease him until he’s red up to his ears, embarrassed and borderline bashful, a complete 180 from the looming jealousy that took over him moments before as he shimmies on his jacket again and picks up your back backs. He huffs, as you tease him, circling an arm around his as you begin to walk to the student center. He doesn’t know if he agrees with your declarations of him being a possessive boyfriend, but he does know that he’s your boyfriend, and your boyfriend only.

“So, you think I look cute, still?” you question, picking up a pack of gummy worms. Yuuta lets out a breath of laughter, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “Even cuter than before.”

(Two days later, Todo can be found screaming wildly to Itadori when he comes across a familiar hoodie strewn across a random bench on campus—who considers visiting the Student Health Clinic to make sure an eardrum wasn’t ruptured—because, “Bro, what the hell? I swear I fucking lost this thing!”)

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pucksandpower · 1 month

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Don’t Touch Her

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out

Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character

You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.

“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”

You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”

“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.

While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.

Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.

You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.

Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.

“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”

The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.

“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.

“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.

“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.

The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.

Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.

“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.

“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.

As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”

You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”

You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”

Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.

“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.

After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.

“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”

You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.

***

Beeping.

Hushed voices.

The astringent scent of disinfectant.

You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.

Lando’s face, streaked with tears.

Dancing bodies.

Pulsing lights.

The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.

With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.

“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”

You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.

“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.

Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”

Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.

“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”

He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.

“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”

Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.

“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”

He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.

After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.

“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.

You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”

His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.

When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.

You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.

When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.

“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”

You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”

He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”

Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.

“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.

Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”

You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.

But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.

He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.

***

A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.

When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.

Lando notices your change in demeanor.

“What is it, love?”

“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”

You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”

You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.

“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”

“Did I what?”

“Have something to do with this?”

Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”

“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”

He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”

You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”

“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”

You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”

Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”

“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”

He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”

You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”

Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”

Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”

Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”

His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.

“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.

“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.

You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”

Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.

Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.

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miserycanary · 2 months

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MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him.

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out.

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again.

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love.

| The letter:

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go.

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley cod #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost riley #simon riley #canary’s symphonies #canary’s melodies

1K notes · View notes

poohsources · 1 month

Text

🐝 * ― 𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 / 𝒀𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛ i can't stop thinking about you even when i try. ❜ ❛ every time i see you, it's like my heart skips a beat. ❜ ❛ i never realized how much i needed you until you weren't there. ❜ ❛ do you ever feel like there's something missing ... like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? ❜ ❛ i wish i had the courage to tell you how i feel. ❜ ❛ if only you knew how much you truly mean to me. ❜ ❛ do you ever wonder what it would be like if things were different between us? ❜ ❛ sometimes i wonder if you ever think about me the way i think about you. ❜ ❛ i had a lot of dreams about you recently. ❜ ❛ somehow, you're always on my mind. ❜ ❛ i think i've been in love with you since the day we met - scratch that, i know i've been in love with you since the day we met. ❜ ❛ my biggest wish is to hold you close and never let you go. ❜ ❛ all my life i've felt like a part of me was missing, but with you i've finally found it. ❜ ❛ you deserve better than who i am right now, but i'm gonna keep trying to become someone you do deserve. ❜ ❛ every time you smile at me, i get this flutter in my chest. ❜ ❛ do you think i'll ever be worthy of your love? ❜ ❛ i want to be the person to make you happy. the one person you can always come to with whatever you need. ❜ ❛ will we ever get another chance together? ❜ ❛ you were the best thing that's ever happened to me. ❜ ❛ my biggest regret is ever letting you go. ❜ ❛ i'm still in love with you ... and i honestly never stopped. ❜ ❛ when i wake up in the morning, you're the first person i want to see. ❜ ❛ every time i wake up, i check if you wrote me another message. ❜ ❛ i wish i could be as important to you as you are to me. ❜ ❛ it hurts when you don't talk to me like you used to. ❜ ❛ i miss everything about you, your touch, your laugh, your smile. i wish i could have that back. ❜ ❛ i want to fall asleep wrapped in your arms. ❜ ❛ hold me closer; i always feel safer when you're with me. ❜ ❛ there's so much i wish i was able to tell you. ❜ ❛ i know things aren't easy right now, but i want to remain a fixture in your life. after all, you're one in mine. ❜ ❛ i miss the way you always made me smile. ❜ ❛ you're the reason i keep holding on. ❜ ❛ maybe we're supposed so to remain a case of 'right person, wrong time' forever. ❜ ❛ if only you knew how i feel about you. ❜ ❛ i'm yearning to hold your hand in mine. ❜ ❛ i think you are the one for me, and i hope one day i'll be the one for you, too. ❜ ❛ do you think i'll ever become more than a friend to you? ❜ ❛ my heart belongs to you, always and forever. ❜ ❛ my first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost. ❜ ❛ i've been thinking about us a lot lately. ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #sentence starters #rph #type: meme

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cherienymphe · 2 months

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There Will Be Blood

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader x Lady Margot Fenring

Summary: Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart's desire for his celebration day.

warnings: Dub-Con (use of the voice), blood, knifeplay, choking, threesome, mentions of cannibalism, non canon ages, spoiler free

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

⭑

“She looks almost good enough to eat,” were the words that reached your ears in that low timbre, head tilted as he gazed at you. “I don’t know whether to feed her to my darlings…”

The feeling of his finger underneath your chin was almost nonexistent as he tilted your head up. You were too anxious to look away—his reputation preceding him—and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You felt paralyzed, held captive by that dark blue gaze you swore was actually black as night in certain lighting.

“…or make her one of them.”

You swallowed at that, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the subtle movement.

He was referring to his ‘pets’ as you knew he sometimes called them, the three strikingly beautiful Harkonnen women with an appetite for human flesh. The thought of being killed and fed to the women in question made your heart skip a beat…but the thought of being added to his harem made you shudder.

…and you couldn’t tell if the feeling was good or bad.

Hands slid over your shoulders from behind, making you shiver again, and your lashes fluttered at the feeling of soft lips grazing your throat. You faintly tried to remember how and why you ended up here, and you could only recall staring into enticing blue eyes. Her familiar face was all that stood out in your memory, features soft and lips curved into an even softer smile. With all of that being said though, you couldn’t remember your thought process behind following her perfect figure down the hall.

Lady Margot Fenring—golden-haired and willowy with that Bene Gesserit serene repose about her that you found subtly disturbing.

Usually.

In this moment, her calm disposition and quiet authority made your heart race. She was a comforting contrast to the man before you, his intense gaze and sharp features serving to make your imagination run wild with what he was capable of. He was so different from his brother, vastly so from his uncle, but he still possessed similarities with the two that made you nervous all the same.

Especially with his hand so close to your throat.

“This one isn’t for consumption.”

Her lips brushed your skin as her soft and even tone filled your ears.

“Not in the literal sense, at least…” mirth colored her voice at this remark. “I saw you watching her.”

Those words made your heart sink, and you were sure that the brief stab of fear you felt passed through your eyes.

Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. He was the kind of man that would kill someone solely because he felt like it. He had an animalistic stare that made alarm bells go off in your head, telling you to never take your eyes off of him—to always keep him in your line of sight. He was the kind of man you couldn’t let your guard down around.

He was the kind of man you didn’t want watching you.

As if he could read your worrisome thoughts, a glint passed through the man’s eyes, and he leaned in closer. Not one to conceal his feelings in any situation, his expression twisted into one of amusement, a sight that made your hair stand on end. Those soft hands slid over your shoulders and down your arms, gently caressing them.

Don’t be afraid.

A voice that didn’t sound like your own filled your mind, its influence settling into your bones and deep into the crevices of your subconscious. You felt yourself relax, felt the tension leaving you, and her soft hum had you leaning back into her chest. You didn’t want to be afraid, and you felt confident in repeating those words to yourself, confirming that there was nothing to be afraid of.

“You want her,” her fingers grazed your jaw, briefly touching his own. “…but she fears you far too much to ever find yourself alone with her.”

“I like them afraid.”

Those words made you blink, your lips parting at the sincerity in them. By the way he held your gaze, you could tell he wanted you to know he meant it, but that voice in your mind assured you that you had nothing to be afraid of. Not when he leaned in closer, and not when his hand traveled from your chin and down to circle your neck.

“You get too excited,” the blonde woman steadily told him, a hint of authority in her voice. “You would kill her.”

Her fingers on your jaw forced you to turn your head, making you look at her, and when she kissed you, you welcomed it. It was a comforting kiss, one that relaxed you further, and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and bask in the feel of her lips touching yours. Your skin grew warm, and you touched her arm.

“I’m here to keep you in line.”

She spoke the words into your mouth, but she wasn’t talking to you.

Feyd-Rautha’s lack of protest or anger at her words gave you the impression that you were being included in something that already existed. He let her kiss you, the heat of his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as she drew you in closer. The feeling in your chest was both light and heavy, and you felt as if you couldn’t get close enough to her.

Lady Margot had an aura about her that you’d always been ensnared by—the way she talked, the way she swayed when she walked, and especially the way those attentive eyes watched everyone and everything so closely. She smelled fresh and crisp, an airy feminine aroma filling your nose as her hand rested on the side of your throat, Feyd-Rautha’s arm long falling back at his side.

When she pulled away, only the tip of her nose lightly touched yours.

“He wants you to touch him.”

Her voice reverberated in your mind, influencing your thoughts and movements, and you found yourself turning to look at the man in question. Your advance was slow, hesitant in reaching out to place your hands on the black fabric of his shirt. He visibly shuddered at the contact, and despite the fact that you were clothed, you felt vulnerable and naked underneath his intense gaze.

“This one is fragile, Feyd-Rautha,” amusement danced around her words. “You have to play gentle if you want to keep her.”

Almost as if he wanted to defy her, his hand quickly wrapped itself around your throat, forcing you closer. Your heart stuttered at the action, and despite that brief bout of adrenaline—your body’s way of telling you that you were in danger—that influential voice in your mind told you that you were safe. Your breathing was shallow as you looked at him with wide eyes.

His own gaze traveled over your form, his perusal slow and his hand tightening. You reached up, grabbing his arm, and the noise of protest he made was a cross between a grunt and a hum. His nose touched yours, and when he spoke again, it sounded like there was gravel in his throat.

“Do you fear me?”

The thought settled in your mind that he wanted you to say yes, and so you did, barely whispering it.

That pleased him, and he presented you with a terrifying smile. His fingers were pressing into the skin of your neck, and his blue gaze studied yours, eyes flickering between your own. There was a carnal excitement there that told you he lusted for more than just your body, and when you winced at the grip he had on your throat, it only grew.

“Good,” he praised in a guttural tone.

Kissing Feyd-Rautha was nothing like kissing Lady Margot.

It wasn’t meant to be a gentle and comforting experience, but instead one that forced you to face every one of your discomforts head on. His teeth pressing into your lips, his hand cutting off your airway, the lack of warning as he pushed you back. Every action was designed to make you squirm, and despite that feeling, heat still settled in the pit of your stomach as his weight pressed down on you.

Lady Margot’s gentle touch made your leg tingle. She was pulling on it, making room for him while her other hand grabbed your arm, and you shuddered at the feel of her lips kissing a path to your wrist. The contrast in their efforts made your head spin, and Feyd-Rautha’s constricting grip on your throat only disappeared when his lips replaced his hand instead.

Pain blossomed beneath where his teeth were, and you gasped, chest arching up into his involuntarily. His hands on your frame were tense, like he wanted to twist and tear you apart, but something disallowed him from doing so. When he kissed you again, the pain in your neck lingered, flaring from spot to spot, and you didn’t doubt that bruises would be there.

When you were forced to sit up, the soft and thin fabric of your dress was pulled at by two sets of hands. A feminine touch loosened the back, her lips following behind where his once were, soothing the irritated skin there. He, on the other hand, was yanking your sleeves down, and the sound of a slight tear or two in the fabric could be heard.

The cold air hit you for half a second before a warm mouth covered a sensitive bud before it even had time to harden. The sharp feeling of his teeth pressing into the skin of your breast made you shy away, but with Lady Margot at your back, you had nowhere to go. Her lips along your neck and shoulder was a welcomed feeling, a soothing contrast against the pain the Harkonnen man was inflicting. It almost faded to the background completely when her hand found its way between your thighs.

Your lips parted, and your lashes fluttered, and you couldn’t help but to lift your hips. Her fingers were soft against your skin, the appendages sliding between your folds and stroking you. One of your hands reached down to rest on hers, riding along with her ministrations while the other reached up to grip the arm of the man intent on breaking skin.

The feel of Lady Margot’s fingers pushing into you and curving against your walls made you circle your hips. The pain and pleasure were starting to blend together so closely that you couldn’t tell what you liked and didn’t like. His teeth scraping down your torso had your breath hitching, and the Bene Gesserit woman behind you hummed when you clenched around her fingers. It sounded like a noise of approval, and when she spoke, her tone and words confirmed that suspicion.

“She likes that,” she mused, her free hand coming up to run over your chest. “She’s starting to like the pain.”

She was right.

Almost as if that triggered something in him, the blue-eyed man relinquished control completely, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs as he pulled you forward. The action caused you to collapse, your head resting in Lady Margot’s lap as he finished removing your dress, the fabric falling around you in tatters. There was only a brief bout of alarm when he brandished a small blade from his waist.

There was that voice again, settling and taking up residence in your mind, telling you not to be afraid.

Pain flared along your skin in a singular path as the tip of the blade just barely grazed your flesh. It was so sharp that a thin line of blood followed the weapon’s descent, but it was gone as quickly as it came as his tongue slipped past his lips, ingesting your essence and soothing that sting. Your eyes closed, and you welcomed her kiss as she leaned over.

Feyd-Rautha’s own lips kissed you too…just before he sank his teeth into your skin.

You were given bites and nips between the kisses—along your hip and along your thighs and eventually in between your thighs. Your hips lifted, and your back arched, and you unintentionally bit Lady Margot’s lip. She smiled into the kiss, and you knew that she could taste the same blood you felt on your own tongue.

Feyd-Rautha was a mad man between your legs, tongue and teeth playing with you, the blade in his hand pressed against your thigh. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed, wanting to both run away from the pain and run towards it. Every shallow cut made into your skin was soothed by his tongue almost immediately, and you wanted to be embarrassed by how wet their combined ministrations made you.

When you found yourself on your knees, the blade at your throat and his naked chest at your back, you could see the way Lady Margot’s gaze held his. Her face was serene and thoughtful, almost as if she were having a silent conversation with the man at your back. The sharpness of his blade drew blood, and by the way his free hand smeared it along your skin, you knew that it turned him on.

“Gentle,” she reminded him, standing.

He wasn’t so gentle when he pushed his way into you, making you sharply inhale, but the blade remained light against your throat. You tilted your head back, both to relieve the sting and because the feel of his cock sliding into you had you submitting. His own deep grunts were right at your ear, and his bloody hand trailed down your frame to roughly knead into your skin.

The sound of skin slapping against skin made your ears twitch, and when he roughly pushed you down with a hand on your back, your fingers twisted into the sheets of the luxurious bed. Your head was bowed, forehead grazing the fabric as he fucked you, power and aggression driving every thrust. Lady Margot was right, you were afraid of the Baron’s sole heir, positive that you’d never find yourself alone with him before today.

Even if you doubted it, you would have never guessed this is how he’d choose to spend his birthday celebration. While fireworks were exploding and food and drink was being passed around, Feyd-Rautha was spending his time burying his cock in you. His fingers twisted painfully into your hair, making you yelp, and the sound only made him fuck you harder.

“Are you still afraid of me?” he roughly asked you, and when you started to nod, he pushed your face down into the bed.

Understanding what he wanted, you managed to force out a small affirmation.

“Yes,” you choked out.

The low laugh that he let out was menacing, and he was aggressive in pushing you onto your back. His hand was tight when it found a home on your throat, pinning you in place as he snapped his hips into yours. The force was enough to make you wince, and his brutal treatment didn’t go unnoticed, the blonde woman coming up behind the man.

Her gaze found yours, holding it as she whispered something into his ear that yours weren’t privy to. Her beautiful hands came around to slide along his smooth chest, her lips still brushing against his ear. Her lips traveled to his throat as he pulled away from you, pulling out and allowing the other woman to guide him to sit back.

He was uncharacteristically still as he watched her take his place.

“Come.”

Her simple command was impossible to disobey, and you sat up, doing as she said. With a hand on the back of your head, she guided you towards the man, an imposing urge to touch him descending over you. With your hands sliding along his lithe frame, her fingers applied pressure, and your head lowered.

Your lips stretched around him as you tasted his cock, tongue flat and cheeks hollowed. Feminine hands were gliding over your curves, fingers eventually sinking into you again. You closed your eyes at the feel, relaxing and heart calming at the 180 from Feyd-Rautha’s earlier brutality. At the thought of him, you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

It amazed you, how he could be so dominant and forceful with you but so obedient and almost subdued with her. With one look into his eyes or the feel of her hands against his skin, he became a momentarily tamed wild animal. The feral glint in his eyes couldn’t be done away with, the desire to cause pain coloring his features whenever his gaze connected with yours.

As Lady Margot gently curved her fingers into you, you found yourself craving that feeling again.

Your neck and torso still faintly stung from where his blade had drawn blood, and you got the feeling that your skin was already starting to bruise from where he’d tightly held you. You recalled her earlier words, about her presence serving to keep him in line, and your mind lingered on the aches you felt from what he’d done while she was here. You wondered what would be in store for you should he ever get you completely alone.

You suspected that she was right.

He would get too excited…and probably kill you.

When his lips curved into a small smirk, you knew then that your thoughts were written on your face—along with your fear. His hand on your head made you nervous, and still you slid your mouth up and down the length of him. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, Lady Margot’s soft ministrations stroking that fire deep within your stomach. It made you moan around him, and if possible, you swore Feyd-Rautha’s eyes darkened at both the sound and feel.

“She would make a well-behaved pet,” he haughtily said.

The way he stared into your eyes told you that was meant more so for you than her. They both shifted, leaning in and you heard them kiss above your head.

“I knew that you would enjoy her,” the blonde woman confidently said, her even tone unable to hide her satisfaction. “Provided you don’t break her.”

When she pulled away, she pulled away from you too, and with a hand on your chin, she lifted your head. She guided you to kiss him, her own lips resting against your cheek, her soft voice telling you not to be afraid. You wanted to listen, your own mind agreeing, and so you welcomed the pain when blood bloomed along your lips.

Feyd-Rautha enjoyed the taste, roughly grabbing your hands and pinning them behind you at the small of your back. He didn’t tell you to lie down, instead making you, and you winced at the feel of your hands trapped beneath your own body. His lips were stained red when he pulled away, and your mouth parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock started to stretch you out again.

You were completely powerless—at his mercy—and you cried out at the rough curve of his hips. He looked vicious above you, focused not on chasing his high but on seeing the register of pain on your face instead. That was what brought him pleasure, watching you wince and squirm beneath him and his intense thrusts. If his hand wasn’t on your throat then it was yanking your hair or digging into the soft flesh of your breast.

He seemed to like the sight of marking you up whether it be with his teeth or his hand…or that blade.

He held it against your throat while he fucked you, sometimes sliding the flat part down your chest, blue eyes transfixed by the metal pressing against your skin. Occasionally he’d turn it, the edge grazing you, making a cut just shallow enough and then he’d lean down to taste you. Spots of his own flesh was marred by your blood, and he obviously didn’t care as he smeared it over both of you with every movement.

With your hands free, you clutched onto the sheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head. His hands were painfully tight on your waist, keeping your hips lifted for him as he thrust into you. Lady Margot—silently and appreciatively watching—slid her hands along the bed to grab your hands. Her fingers intertwined with your own, holding them down, and you welcomed the gentle kisses she placed on your wrists and then your cheek before finally your lips.

The man above you made a noise of disapproval, and after some time, she granted him what he wanted, his own rough lips replacing hers. You panted into the kiss, tasting your blood on his lips, and you felt almost delirious. It was a constant cycle of pain and pleasure that had you chasing him when he started to pull away. The laugh he gave at the sight told you his thoughts on the matter, but you didn’t care how much power you were giving him.

His gaze suddenly lifted, and his thrusts didn’t stop as he faced Lady Margot. You felt hypnotized as you watched them, eyes focused on the way Feyd-Rautha stuck out his tongue, elongating it in a way you didn’t think possible. The willowy woman had let you go, taking his own blade and dragging the edge of it down his tongue.

It was then that you realized the man inside of you enjoyed pain almost as much as he liked inflicting it.

You wondered if that was why he was so submissive towards her, why she could order him around and why she was so confident that she could keep him in line. You were unsurprised when they kissed, the brutal man kissing you after a while when they finally parted. You swore that his blood tasted completely different from your own.

A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you felt almost completely spent. You were sure that the celebration of his birth was still being had while he chose to celebrate between your legs. His strength and the knowledge of how easily he could snuff you out played a part in the way you clenched around his cock. You could feel that you were close—and so could he.

His hand completely obstructed your breathing, and you could only hold onto his wrist. With every thrust into your cunt, the heat in the pit of your stomach grew. Your heart was racing, and your eyes struggled to remain open, and your toes curled as he stretched you around him. A noise of appreciation reached your ears, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to snap your neck.

He could do it. The strength in his hand told you so and that he would probably barely exert himself doing so. You felt your neck strain underneath his fingers, and your nails drew blood over his skin. You knew he liked that because he kissed you again. Your shallow breaths hit his face, and just as you were on the verge of passing out, you came.

…and his hold loosened.

The rush of air into your lungs coinciding with the release of pressure inside of you made your world momentarily go dark. All you could feel was the snug fit of his cock—and the way your walls fluttered around it—and his teeth against your lip. You could faintly feel softer hands on your face, and a choked moan left your lips his hips continued to connect with yours.

His hand tightened again just as your vision started to return to you, and the smile you were met with was chilling. So turned on by watching you straddle death, the fearsome fighter came too but much more violently. He practically growled above you, the noise so animalistic and inhumane sounding. Your neck almost cracked beneath the force of his hand, and the overstimulation from the feel of his cock made you want to clench your thighs together.

You were struggling to breathe when he stilled, chest burning, and when he roughly let you go—pushing himself away from you—you gasped for air. You turned on your side, sweaty and bloody and feeling like you couldn’t breathe deep enough. A hand smoothed along the side of your face—a feminine hand—and when you looked up, the blue-eyed man was cleaning his blade with a crooked smile, terrifying teeth on display.

“I think I will keep this one.”

#feyd rautha #feyd-rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd-rautha #margot fenring #lady margot fenring #margot fenring x reader #dune fanfiction #dune imagine #feyd-rautha imagine #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #lea seydoux

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saetoshi · 1 year

Text

sae is bad with timezones.

whenever he goes on a trip because of football he always forgets he’s not in your timezone.

it’s why you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to your phone ringing right next to your pillow, his name lighting up the screen.

“hey.” his voice is almost enough to make you smile. (almost. you’re still too sleepy.)

you stifle a yawn, “hi.”

“hi.” you can practically feel his smile.

a sleepy huff of laughter slips past your lips, “you already said that.”

“i know,” he sounds a little breathless, you note, “i just like greeting you.”

a smile blooms on your lips when he says that, your heart skipping a beat. you hide your face in your pillow, shying away as if he could see you.

you turn your attention to your phone when you faintly hear him plop down on his bed with a groan.

“you would not believe the morning i had,” he huffs.

“was it bad?” you bite back a yawn, stretching out on the bed.

you frown when he lets out a deep sigh, “it was worse than i would’ve liked.”

“i couldn’t get coffee because there was this huge line at this café i like, so i barely had any energy to do anything,” a fond smile tugs at your lips when you picture the pout on his lips.

your brows knit in confusion. “i thought your manager got your coffee?”

a dry laugh leaves sae’s lips, “here’s where my morning gets worse. he was busy because i had an interview.”

your face scrunches up, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “yikes.”

“yikes.” sae echoes back, laughing. “i think you can imagine how that went.”

“yeah,” you sleepily laugh, “i feel bad for the poor people who had to interview you.”

“hey!” a drowsy smile tugs at your lips when you hear the mock offense in his voice.

you yawn, “so your interview just ended?”

he hums, “i came back to the hotel as soon as i could.”

“really?” your eyes start to droop.

“yeah,” you can hear his smile, “i wanted to hear your voice.”

your face flushes. you reach out to grab sae’s pillow and hold it close to your chest, hiding your face in it.

“shut up,” you mutter. your eyes flutter closed, a yawn slips past your lips.

he laughs, “how was your morning?”

sae frowns when you don’t reply.

your eyes snap open when he calls out your name. “yeah?”

there’s a pause. you frown in sleepy confusion, “sae?”

“i woke you up again, didn’t i?” his voice comes out soft, almost as if he feels guilty for having woken you up again.

(again, because he’s not used to not being in your timezone. again, because the fact that you’re miles away and not a train ride away always slips his mind.)

you sheepishly laugh, “you did.”

your heart swells with fondness when you picture his face flushing in embarrassment.

“sorry,” he awkwardly coughs.

“it’s fine.” you whisper, a teasing smile lifting the corners of your lips, “i wanted to hear your voice, too.”

you bury your face into sae’s pillow, laughing when sae mutters a soft and very bashful, ‘shut up.’

a yawn slips past your lips and you nuzzle into sae’s pillow, a small smile on your face when you note his lingering scent.

“you should go to sleep.”

you let out a confused hum, tilting your head to the side.

a huff of amused laughter leaves sae’s lips, “you should go back to sleep.”

“i don’t wanna leave you alone, though.” you pout.

“and i don’t wanna keep you up any longer,” he hums.

you frown, yawning. “i can stay up a little longer.”

“i’d rather you didn’t,” he sounds reluctant. like he doesn’t want you to leave. (you really wish he was next to you right now.)

“i miss you.” your voice is laced with longing, sae’s pillow scrunched up against your frame as you clutch it tighter to you in a poor attempt to pretend it’s actually sae.

“i miss you too.” sae’s voice is barely above a whisper. you wonder if he’s also holding on to a pillow, pretending it’s you.

“i wish you’d come home now.” you mumble, eyes drooping as sleep tightens its grip around you.

you can feel sae’s smile through the phone, “me too.”

there’s a small pause before sae speaks again. “seriously, though, go sleep.”

you frown, “are you kicking me out already?”

“i don’t want to,” he laughs, “but i’d hate for you to not get enough sleep because of me.”

“you’ll miss me, though,” you pout. (he doesn’t say it, but you’re right. he will miss you. even if he knows you’ll call him as soon as you wake up.)

“go sleep,” he insists, “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you try to stifle yawn, “can you stay until i fall asleep?”

your eyes flutter closed, a content smile on your lips when you hear him hum.

“i can even stay until you wake up again.” he teases.

“would you really?” your voice is laced with sleep.

you don’t see it, but there’s a big grin on sae’s face. “yeah.”

so he does.

(and he doesn’t mention it, but he’ll stay with you for as long as you let him.)

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lanadelnegan · 7 months

Text

Cherry 🍒

S7 Negan x Virgin Female Reader

Summary: You sneak into Negan’s bed in the middle of the night and seduce him into ‘popping your cherry.’

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is mid 40's), unprotected sex, Negan taking your virginity & being sweet with you, mentions of family death, bleeding during sex, oral (both receiving), sitting on Negan’s face, breeding

Note: this is pure filth. If you’re uncomfortable with extreme age-gaps, please don’t read.

You shivered as your bare feet quietly shuffled down the cold hallway, stopping right outside the leader's bedroom door. The sounds of Negan's light snoring filtered through the cracks as you softly pushed the door open, pleased to find it unlocked. You tiptoed your way over to the empty side of his bed before sliding underneath his soft white sheets and inhaling the unique scent of him - leather and fresh linen.

You've always felt comfortable with him. Negan welcomed you to the sanctuary with open arms about a year ago when you were seventeen, after your father passed away. His men found you walking along the road one day and brought you back to Negan, who immediately took you under his wing and made you feel safe for the first time since your father died.

You're not like his wives. More like the daughter he never had and he's made that boundary crystal clear on more than one occasion. You've made several subtle advances towards Negan in the past.. All of which he has politely rejected by changing the subject or blatantly ignoring you.

Still, this doesn't stop you from quietly moaning his name when you touch yourself at night.

"Negan.." You whispered cautiously as you snuggled into the sheets. This wasn't the first time you crawled into his bed at night, feeding him lies about nightmares you never even had. However, this time.. you were determined to get what you wanted.

During your recent previous attempts, you'd remain on your side of the bed and Negan wouldn't even know you were there usually until the next morning - lecturing you when you woke up about how sneaking into his bed is inappropriate. You hated when he used that word. Like a strict school teacher.

A few moments of silence passed until you boldly shuffled closer to him, wrapping your hand around his arm and snuggling your face into his bicep. You breathed in the intoxicating aroma of his soft skin as your legs delicately pressed into his underneath the blanket.

"The hell are you doin' y/n?" He asked, his sleepy voice deeper and raspier than usual and it made your heart flutter.

"Can't sleep."

"I think we both know you're lyin', doll. You know you can't stay in here. We've had this discussion. It's ina-"

"Yeah yeah I know. Inappropriate, geez." You interrupted him, rolling your eyes in the dark.

"Exactly, so why are you in my bed?"

"My.. dreams. They keep waking me up."

"Nightmares again?" He asked, using a softer tone this time.

"No.. no nightmares this time. Just.. dreams."

Negan shifted uncomfortably next to you, scooting up a little in the bed and wrapping his arm around you in the process. "What kinda dreams, doll?"

You snuggled into the nook of his armpit, getting practically drunk off his manly smell as your hand carelessly glided over his shirtless, hairy torso until settling on his lower abdomen.

Without missing a beat, Negan placed his hand over yours, moving it higher on his torso. "Y/n.." He said like a warning, sternness dripping from his tone.

You ignored him, refocusing your attention back to his previous question. "I dunno.. they're just.. like.. sexual dreams, and then I wake up and I'm all frustrated because I don't know what I'm doing-"

"Stop." He sighed with frustration, running a hand down his face. "Fucking christ, y/n. You cannot say shit like that in front of me."

"Why not? It's not like you're my daddy or anything." You teased him, sliding your hand to his lower stomach once again. You almost whimpered when your fingertips brushed over the soft curls peaking out of the waistband of his boxers and your stomach fluttered when he didn't stop you this time.

He let out a long sigh, glancing down to your hand that teased the sensitive skin under his waistband. "Baby...fuck. We can't." He said almost painfully.

"Okay.. I get it." You said defeatedly, removing your hand and shifting to turn over before he stopped you, pulling you back in.

He sighed, like he was about to regret asking you this. "What happens.. in your dreams?"

With the moonlight beaming through the window, you managed to catch a glimpse of the lust that flickered in his gaze before his hazel eyes dropped to your lips.

"You treat me different.. like.. one of your wives."

"Yeah? And how's that, baby?" He asked curiously as his lips hovered next to yours.

"You.. kiss them." You stated hesitantly, hoping it was dark enough in the room that he couldn't see your cheeks burning red.

"Oh? Are you jealous, doll?"

"...a little." You admitted, making him chuckle.

He tilted your chin up, lightly gripping your jawline as his eyes dropped to your lips. He stared at them as if he was contemplating if he should give you what you want.

"One kiss, y/n." He said, closing the gap between you and pressing his soft lips to yours. You whimpered into his mouth, earning a slight smirk from him as he pushed his talented tongue past your lips. You couldn't believe you were finally tasting him and you savored every second of it.

He kissed you until your lips were sore, tangling his fingers through your hair and groaning every now and then, making your panties soaked.

You slid your leg over his until his muscular thigh was pressed right up against your aching center and you couldn't help but grind against it, desperate for some friction.

"Y/n." He warned, knowing what you were doing beneath the covers.

"Please, Negan."

His solid erection pressed into your stomach each time you moved your body against his and you imagined the way it would feel inside of you.

“Please what?” He said in between kisses, allowing you to use his thigh to get yourself off.

“Please let me come."

"I'm not touching you, y/n. But I can't stop you from coming."

And that was all the permission you needed to grind against him harder and bring yourself to an orgasm just from humping his thigh.

You buried your face against his neck and rode out your high, whining and whimpering as you soaked through your panties. "Oh my god, oh my god, Negannnn."

"Satisfied now, doll?" He chuckled.

"No.. I need this." You said, pressing your palm against the hard bulge in his boxers. "Please."

"You don't know what you're asking for, sweetheart."

"I do, Negan. I know exactly what I want.. And I've wanted you for so long." You kissed his neck as you rubbed his cock through the material. "I see the way you look at me. I know you want me too."

He sighed, accepting that you were right. "Maybe. But we can't always get what we want, doll."

You grinned, taking that as a challenge as you slid lower beneath the blanket, kissing his chest. "Why not?"

"Baby.."

"If you tell me to stop, I'll stop." You said, wanting to earn his consent before climbing over his legs and settling in between them. He sighed again, turning all the way over on his back to allow you better access.

You licked a line from the bottom of the trail of hair that led up to his belly button, earning a moan from him as he slightly lifted his hips in response. "Baby, you don't have to-"

"You said you wouldn't touch me, but you didn't say I couldn't touch you." You explained, pulling his boxers down slowly. You watched closely as his cock sprung free, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of it. You wondered how you'd fit it in your mouth, much less your pussy.

"It's so.. big.." You said, wrapping your hand around it. Your mouth fell slightly open at the velvety feeling of it as you stroked it up and down in your palm.

Negan was propped up on his elbows as he watched you through heavy, lust-filled eyelids. For once, he was speechless, waiting for your next move.

You lowered your head, taking the tip of him into your mouth and wrapping your lips around it softly. You sucked on just the tip as you looked up at him through your brows and watched his head fall back while the prominent vein in his neck bulged against his skin. Lowering yourself deeper, he let out a long groan when he felt himself in the back of your throat.

"Fuuuuuck, baby. Feels so fuckin' good."

You bobbed your head up and down on him until your jaw ached, wanting to make him proud. Finally, he pulled your head off of his length, and you watched as the precum leaked from his red, swollen tip. His breaths were heavy as he looked down at you. "Fuck, that's enough. You're gonna make me come, sweetheart.

"I want to taste you, Negan.. please?" You begged, looking up at him innocently.

"Yeah? You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nodded as wrapped your lips around his thick length again, tasting the bead of salty precum. You moaned at the new taste, sucking firmly over and over until you felt more of his warm liquid spurt out, coating the back of your throat. You moaned around him again, not taking your mouth off of his cock until you swallowed every drop.

Sweat ran down the side of his face and his chest rose and fell heavily as he watched you. "Goddamn. What happened to my sweet, innocent girl, huh? When did you learn to suck cock like that?"

"Just now. That was my first time." You shrugged, shuffling up his body until your legs straddled his waist and you pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor and exposing your perky, bare breasts to him.

You pinched your own nipples teasingly as you bit you lip and stared down at him.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He said, watching you play with your nipples.

"You don't wanna touch?" You pouted, sticking out your bottom lip.

"Of course I wanna fuckin' touch you, y/n. You have no idea. I wanna touch every inch of you." He sighed, leaning up on his elbows again until his face was inches away from your chest. "But, I can't."

"Then don't use your hands.. lick me instead." You insisted.

He looked up at you through his brows before his gaze returned to your breasts. You leaned forward, brushing your nipple against his beard until it hardened even more. When it brushed his lips, he instantly took it into his mouth and groaned, sucking it gently. After a few moments, he switched to the other one, flicking his tongue against it. Your head fell back while your fingers intertwined in his slick, black hair.

"Negannn." You breathed out, and he finally pulled away.

"Take those panties off and sit on my fucking face. Now." He demanded, laying flat on his back.

You eagerly obeyed him, quickly removing your panties and climbing over his face before lowering yourself down slowly. You hovered over him lightly, not wanting to press all the way down until his hands roughly pulled you closer.

"I said, sit." He said before burying his face in your cunt. The tip of his nose pressed against your clit as his tongue devoured your dripping hole and he moaned with approval.

You lifted slightly, being too sensitive too his touch, but he leaned forward, taking your clit between his lips and sucking. You cried out as your orgasm instantly rushed through you and you soaked his face. You came hard and fast, but he didn't mind as he moaned loudly, lapping up your juices. You tried to climb off of him, but he held you in place, still licking you like his life depended on it.

"Negan.." You blushed.

"Hm?"

"That's enough." You giggled.

"I'll never get enough of this sweet pussy, doll. You wanted me, now you've fuckin' got me."

His words made the butterflies somersault in your chest. You hoped he meant it. You hoped he loved you the way you loved him.

"Lay down for me." He said, finally letting you climb off of him.

You did as he said, getting comfortable on your back as he crawled over you and settled between your legs. Looking down, you noticed he was rock hard again and he rubbed the tip of his cock teasingly in between your wet folds.

"Negan.. I need to tell you something."

"Hm? What is it, doll?" He asked, leaning over you and holding himself up with his palms on either side of your head on the mattress.

"I-I've never done this before."

He smirked, looking into your eyes. "I know."

"What do you mean you know?"

"I hear everything in this place, y/n. I've heard you talking about me to your friends." He pressed his lips to yours before looking at you again. "I've heard you moaning my name at night in your bed while you touch that pretty pussy. I know everything about you, doll. I pay attention, even when you think I'm not."

You blushed at his words as you stared up at him speechless, making his smile widen. "So adorable when you're embarrassed."

He kissed you again, so hard that it took your breath away and in that moment, you knew you were head over heels in love with this man. You just wondered if he felt the same.

“What else happens in your dreams, baby? Do you let me fuck this little pussy?” He whispered in your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine.

“Y-yes.” You managed to choke out, making him chuckle.

He leaned back up, placing one of your legs over his shoulder as the other fell open for him.

“You ready for me to break you in, sweetheart? Pop that sweet little cherry?”

"Fuck, yes. Please." You whined, scooting closer to him until the tip of his cock brushed against your sex.

Negan chuckled lowly, pressing the head of his cock right against your hole. He watched you intensely as he pushed just the tip in, stopping before he went any further.

“You good, baby?” He asked, making sure you were good to continue. Once you nodded, he slid slightly deeper, feeling resistance before pushing through with a force.

You cried out at the sudden ripping sensation, making him stop again.

“No.. keep going.” You urged him, already aching from how he was stretching you, but you needed him to fill you completely. So he did, pushing himself all the way in with one swift thrust.

Your mouth fell open silently as he pressed against your cervix and let out a growl.

He fell over you again, kissing your lips as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. “You did it, baby.” He praised you softly. “I am so fuckin proud of you.”

He moved slowly, making you deliberately feel every inch of him. He repeated this motion until your face was on fire and your lower abdomen tingled.

"Fuck, y/n. You are so fucking tight." He said through gritted teeth, looking down between the two of you as he leaned back up on his knees.

"Oh fuuck, look. at. that, doll."

You leaned up on your elbows, looking down and widening your eyes when Negan pulled out of you, revealing his blood covered cock.

His thumb reached down to swipe a trail of your blood off his dick before bringing it to this mouth. You watched him enamored as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the taste of you and he moaned with satisfaction. You blushed hard at the sight of Negan tasting your blood.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Negan.” You answered without question, following it with a moan as he pushed back into you without warning.

“That’s right, doll. This pussy? Is mine now. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” You cried, as he pumped into you faster.

"Ow. Ow, fuck. It hurts."

“I know baby. I know. You want me to stop?”

“No.” You said quickly. “Please don’t stop. I want it harder.”

He smiled down at you proudly as his hips bucked into you harder and your eyes clenched shut as your fingers gripped the sheets.

Looking down between the two of you again, he groaned at the sight of your blood completely coating his cock and leaking out of you with each thrust.

You whined and whimpered, desperately wanting to come again. He grinned knowingly, pressing his thumb to your clit and making your body shutter. "You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart?"

You nodded as tears flooded your eyes and his finger started working over your clit more intensely.

"Yes, yes. Please make me come."

He fucked you fast and rubbed your clit in perfect circles, watching you come undone around him. Once your walls were done convulsing around him, he fell over you again, kissing your neck and groaning in your ear. "That's it. That's my good girl."

Wet noises filled the air as he fucked you unforgivably hard. "You gonna let me cum in this pussy, baby?" He asked, biting your earlobe.

You couldn't speak, so you nodded as your vision went cloudy and his thrusts became more erratic until he stopped suddenly, pushing himself balls deep inside of you as his dick pumped you full of cum and he growled in your ear.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby." His thrusts started again, soft and light this time as he pushed his seed deeper inside of you. He kissed your jawline, then your lips, before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. And goddamn I love this pussy."

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vanteguccir · 17 days

Text

Anxiety On Tour | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N is just another fan at one of the Let's Trip Tour shows, until it comes time for the Meet&Greet. Things get out of hand for Matt, and she ends up being the only one who manages to calm him down.

Warning: Panick attack, anxiety.

Requested?: Yes, by @patscorner

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The stage was illuminated by a myriad of lights, as the bustling crowd eagerly pressed near the front. Y/N could feel the electricity in the air as the beats of upbeat music keep echoing throughout the venue from the big speakers. It was the beginning of the much-awaited Sturniolo Triplets show from the Let's Trip Tour.

She couldn't believe she was finally there, in the middle of the action, about to witness the boys she'd followed through a screen for years, finally face to face. With her heart pounding in her chest, Y/N let herself be carried away by the infectious energy of the crowd as she got closer and closer to the stage.

The music reached a crescendo, and then, suddenly, they appeared. Matt, Nick, and Chris entered the stage, radiating a magnetic presence that immediately captured everyone's attention. Y/N held her breath as her eyes found Matt, the boy she had never seen in person, but with whom she had a huge crush for months, in the flesh right in front of her. He looked even more stunning out of screen, with his messy hair and shy smile.

As the greetings sentences were let out by the three's microphones, Y/N felt a wave of emotion course through her body. It was as if every cell within her was vibrating in tune with them, with the pulsing energy of everyone around her.

As the show progressed, Y/N couldn't take her eyes off Matt. Every laugh, every saying, seemed to hypnotize her even more. She wondered if he could feel her gaze on him or if that was just her desire playing with her mind.

When it was time for a break between games, Matt grabbed the microphone and began speaking to the audience. His voice was soft and engaging, making everyone around him feel like they were having an intimate conversation with him. Y/N held her breath, hanging on every word he said.

As Matt interacted with everyone, his eyes swept across the crowd and, for a brief moment, seemed to meet Y/N's. She felt her face blush intensely, and a shy smile formed on her lips before she looked away, embarrassed, holding back the immense urge to scream at having been seen by him.

As the show continued, Y/N found herself caught up in a rollercoaster of emotions. The pulsating energy of the music, the interactions, the magnetic presence of the triplets, and, most of all, Matt's closeness left her ecstatic. Every moment was like a dream come true, and she refused to blink for fear of missing even a second.

When the stage lights finally went out and the final words were given, Y/N felt a mixture of ecstasy and melancholy by the feeling of the long-awaited moment coming to an end, but little did she know that the night was just beginning.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N waited anxiously in line for the meet and greet. Her heart was beating so hard that it felt like it was about to jump out of her chest while her right leg bounced up and down in anxiety. Every minute that passed felt like an eternity, but at the same time, she wanted the moment to last forever.

As she watched the fans in front of her greet the triplets with beaming smiles, Y/N wondered what it would be like to be so close to them. She could barely contain her excitement as she approached the door that led to the meet and greet room where traps played loudly from the speakers, and colorful lights painted the walls.

Finally, her turn has come. Her stomach fluttered nervously as she entered the room, and her eyes instantly locked on Matt, who was there, so close and so real.

The three were side by side, Nick had a relaxed posture as he placed aside a teddy bear that he had probably received from the previous fan, while Chris glanced at Matt, seeming to watch him closely.

Matt was feeling fine until seconds before, but something inside him started to stir. His heart beating faster, his breathing became irregular, and a feeling of panic came over him.

So, when Y/N walked over to greet Matt with a hug, she noticed something was different, off. His arms were shaking, and his eyes looked a little lost, as if he were fighting some internal battle. Now up close, she could also notice how rigid his posture was and how his hands were clenched into a firm fist.

Y/N felt a wave of worry run through her own body, struggling internally over what to do, but ended up deciding not to expose Matt's situation in front of anyone, remaining silent. Instead, she smiled warmly and tried to keep the conversation light, hoping not to bother him with intrusive questions.

"Hi, Matt." The girl greeted softly, trying to ignore the nervousness that came over her body. "It's amazing to finally meet you in person. How are you?"

Matt lifted his head towards her for the first time, appearing to have only noticed her presence at that moment, trying to open a smile like hers, but his lips were trembling to the point where it came weaker than he wanted to.

Y/N could see the tension in his blue eyes as he tried to hide his discomfort, wondering what had happened to make him react in such a way so suddenly. Meanwhile, Matt tried to convince himself that it was nothing and that it would soon pass.

But it didn't pass. Instead, the feeling of panic grew, enveloping him like a dense fog. He felt like he was suffocating, like the world was crumbling around him, while his mind convinced him that he was alone.

As Y/N moved to greet Chris and Nick individually, keeping a brief and quick conversation - following the pattern imposed by the team that observed them -, she noticed how Matt seemed increasingly agitated, her own mind racing in an eagerness to help him, but the fear of reaction from the public, the team and even the triplets themselves held her back.

Until the picture moment. Y/N felt her heart sink as she felt Matt's breathing become more rapid and shallow as they prepared to take the group photo. She knew she couldn't just stand by and watch as he fought the monsters of his own mind.

With a lump in her throat and trembling hands, Y/N removed her left arm from around Chris, muttering a quick apology before turning to Matt, blocking the view of the line of people behind them, creating a small haven of privacy amidst the chaos of the room. The girl lifted her head slightly, searching his eyes with her own, desperately looking for any sign of life inside the blue orbs.

"Matt, hey." She began, her voice soft and comforting, acting as a balm to his troubled soul. "Are you okay?"

Matt's eyes widened in panic as he realized that the disturbances in his mind became visible enough to be seen by someone else. He swallowed hard, forcing himself not to look at his brothers or the fans behind the girl in front of him, the fear of receiving disappointed or judgmental looks growing in his chest.

He limited himself to just shaking his head, unable to utter a word. His eyes were unfocused and lost, and his nails pierced the palm of his hands - probably drawing blood - with the force he was squeezing the area, trying to maintain control of the uncontrollable emotions.

Y/N could see the terror on his face, and her heart ached for him.

She turned her head slightly and passed her eyes briefly over Nick and Chris, noticing how the two now had a rigid posture, ready to make a move as soon as necessary. Chris's eyes carried great uncertainty, as if he was afraid of leaving Matt in the care of a stranger, but Nick's hand, which held his biceps surreptitiously, prevented him from acting on impulse.

Y/N turned her attention back to Matt, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth in a thoughtful act before sighing softly.

"Can I hug you?" Her voice came out in a whisper as low as the music that surrounded them, but loud enough for him to hear it, and she was sure of it when she received a small nod in response.

Without hesitation, the girl enveloped him in a warm hug, holding him tightly against her chest as he trembled. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he struggled to control his breathing and calm his nerves. Y/N pressed her fingers into strategic points on his back, touching the hard knots with every inch of skin, lightly massaging the covered area.

"Everything is okay." Y/N whispered softly, snaking her right hand up his shoulder to the back of his head, interlacing her fingers in Matt's messy curls, stroking them carefully while guiding him to lay his head on her right shoulder. "You're safe here. No one is gonna hurt you. Just breathe with me, okay? Follow my breathing."

Y/N began to breathe slowly and deeply, the warm air hitting Matt's ear, helping him to follow her rhythm. A disguised smile grew on her face as she felt the boy's back rise and fall in an uneven rhythm below her left hand, knowing he was trying as hard as he could in that moment.

Little by little, she felt the tension in his body ease, his tremors becoming less intense as he finally reacted, clinging to her for comfort. His large but so fragile hands at that moment held her arm tightly, searching desperately for support and balance.

For a few precious moments, Y/N and Matt remained like that, joined in a comforting embrace, and lost in their own world of calm and safety. The sounds of Chris' agitated voice shouting for water to one part of the team and Nick's voice demanding the other part to remove the fans that were still there were all muffled against both of their ears, just the unison rhythm of their breathing and the beats of their connected hearts echoing around their bodies.

When Matt finally pulled away, his eyes quickly met Y/N's, overflowing with gratitude and fascination, feeling flattered to have had the opportunity to meet a girl so empathetic to the point of helping him without a second thought.

His mind searched for words to thank her, but to Y/N, he didn't need to say anything; his eyes said it all.

"How can I-" Matt began, clearing his throat briefly as he heard his own voice come out hoarse and worn out by the whirlwind of emotions that he went through in a short space of time. "How can I thank you? Repay you for what you did for me..."

Y/N shook her head, interrupting his sentence, her own smile widening and brightening her features as her eyes remained fixed on the blue ones, who now seemed to be taking their own time to carefully analyze her expressions, seeming mesmerized.

Matt's warm hands suddenly felt heavier against the exposed skin of her arm, a shiver running down her spine as she noticed how close they were physically, the boy's scent filling her nostrils with an inescapable force, leaving her dizzy and lost.

"I think you owe me a picture."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

A/N²: I hated it, so I'm so sorry if it sucked badly ;(

My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

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cower-before-power · 3 months

Text

As Mortals Do

Pairing: Gale X Fem Reader

Summary: As much as you enjoy being with Gale in the Weave, you love being with him just as he is more- aka All The Ways Mystra Missed Out

Warnings: Implied sex, very light grinding, mentions of oral (both on Gale and reader), I guess a smattering of angst?? But mostly soppy romantic, sexy fluff. MINORS STAY AWAY!

Word Count: approx 1300

A/N: I haven't written anything for ages but I'm obsessed with BG3 and Gale, just had a little idea and decided to jot it down. I hate hate hate Mystra, Gale deserves all the love and adoration just as he is, and this is me giving it to him haha. I'm not a Weave sex expert, nor do I know for sure if Gale and Mystra did it outside the Weave, but this is my fic and I'll do what I want!

Mystra is a fool, you think.

It’s not a new thought. You often find your mind turning to the goddess, and the depths of her raging stupidity. How she cast aside a man so full of love and devotion, a man whose heart bled worship and loyalty, a man who gives and gives and gives. A man like Gale Dekarios deserves to be loved as much as he loves, to be held near and never let go of.

Her loss is your gain, you think to yourself smugly, as you lay on your lover’s chest, the two of you basking in the sweet afterglow of your lovemaking. Gale is all yours now. His mind yours to delight in, his body yours to lose yourself in, his heart yours to cherish as the precious thing that it is.

You do not intend to replicate her mistakes.

“I can hear the gears in your brain turning, love,” Gale’s rich voice rumbles softly under your ear. “Spare a thought?”

You prop yourself up on an elbow, allowing yourself to drink deep of his satisfied visage before you answer. Gale is truly a vision after you’ve wrung pleasure from him, eyes aglow and face flushed, happiness exuding from every pore. You keep the image tucked close to your heart, a special treasure for you and you alone to revel in.

“I was just reflecting on the folly of your previous lover, darling. As I often do.”

Mystra’s name no longer brings pain to his dark eyes. Instead, he quirks a brow, no doubt curious as to the train of your thoughts.

“Oh? And in what way do you find fault in her this time?”

You brush your fingers along his cheek, his forehead, the slope of his nose. His skin is warm and slick with sweat. “I couldn’t help but think how foolish of her to never have you like this, in this mortal plane. She missed out greatly.”

Gale catches the hand tracing his face, bringing it to his mouth to kiss each of your fingertips. A shiver of delight skitters up your spine.

“How do you figure that?” He asks, lips moving to press more kisses to your palm, your wrist. You want to melt into his gentle devotion, but you have a point you wish to make. Gently, you prise your hand from his grasp, settling it over his beating heart.

You grin down at him. “Don’t mistake me, sex in the Weave is incredible. Every time you take me in there, I’m drowned in ecstasy. Our very souls meeting, entwining like that? It’s not something I ever thought I’d experience, and I’m thrilled I get to. With you.”

Gale smiles at that. “I’m glad to show you those delights, my love.”

“But,” you lean forward and press your lips to his quickly, gently. “as pleasurable as the Weave is, it skips a lot of my favourite parts.”

Gale’s mouth opens, no doubt to inquire what you mean, but you silence him with a firmer press of your lips.

“Your ethereal paramour did not have many glorious experiences, darling,” your breath mingles with his as your lips brush teasingly. “She did not get to feel the smoothness of your lips the graze of your beard against her skin as you kiss her. Or how it bites deliciously against her sensitive inner thighs.”

You nip his bottom lip softly, relishing in the hitch of his breath and the flutter of his lashes.

“She did not smell your scent, sandalwood and mulled wine and bound leather, and how it mixes with the musk of sex and passion into an elixir I wish I could bathe in.” To drive your point, you lower your face to rest in the crook of his neck, inhaling a generous lungful of said aroma. It sends a visible shudder right through you, and you feel yourself already wanting for your wizard again.

Your tongue sneaks out to lave a long stripe up the side of his neck. and the soft groan that tears from Gale’s throat makes your whole being positively ache with need.

“She did not taste your sweat, the salty tang of your spend. She did not feel the wonderful heaviness of you on her tongue, the little twitch right before you spill. Or see the way you look so thoroughly and splendidly debauched after I’m done with you.”

You climb atop him, hands braced on his chest as he grips your hips harshly. Gods above, he is a truly beautiful sight. You think you are the luckiest woman in all Faerun, to have such a man beneath you.

“She did not get to feel how warm you are inside her, how delicious it feels to be flooded with your seed. How connecting in that base, physical manner can feel just as wonderful as a merging of souls.”

To emphasize your words, you grind your hips against his, mewling softly at the feel of him growing between your thighs. Gale himself is practically panting, his sweet brown eyes nearly swallowed by dark lust, his own hips rutting up into yours mindlessly as he hangs on your every word.

You lean over him, chest to chest, face to face. Close as close can be, just the way you always want to be.

“She missed out on so much you have to offer,” you whisper, “and I’m not sorry for her. I’m greedy, all of this-intimacy, unconditional love, an equal partnership-with you is mine and mine alone.”

Gale snaps then, leaning up to capture your mouth in a voracious kiss. You sigh and sag into him, letting him devour your mouth as his hands wander the expanse of your naked skin. His kiss excites, his touch inflames, your bodies melt together like they were made to be entwined.

You firmly believe they were.

Lips meet, tongues dance, sighs and groans mingle in the soft moonlight. You soft whimpers of delight however, are soon abruptly turned into a squeal as he flips you under him. “Gale!”

Your wizard simply smiles down at you in awe and reverence. You think his eyes might be glassed with unshed tears. “My love, your words….I would ask if you truly mean them, but you’ve been quite the persistent one in making me believe my own worth.”

You return his smile. “I am annoying in that way, aren’t I?”

“Doggedly so,” Gale teases, kissing your nose as it scrunches up at his jesting. “But, I appreciate it. More than even my verbose vocabulary can explain, if you can believe that.”

You giggle. “My wizard of words? Unable to explain something? I certainly cannot believe it.”

Gale’s smile turns salacious. “No matter. I’m learning the benefit of expressing myself physically when words fail me.” He shifts, hard as steel against you, and a moan strangles itself in your throat. “Now, my love, my light, my darling precious gem, shall I express my feelings on your lovely speech with my body? Allow you to enjoy all the things you just praised so eloquently?"

He shifts again, and you cant your hips upwards with a whine, desperation seeping into your pores. You want to have him, again and again again, unending, unyielding. You feel like you might go mad if you don't.

Gale’s reciprocation of your hunger shines down upon you like the sun. “Let me indulge in you, sweetheart,” he croons lowly, “let me bring you to the heights of pleasure. In all the corporeal ways that mortals do.”

Your heart cracks open, joy overflowing. There is no greater bliss. He is bliss, in all that he is and all that he gives to you.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, as Gale presses in and consumes you whole. “As mortals do.”

#gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale bg3 #bg3 x reader #gale baldurs gate 3 #baulder's gate 3 #my writing #gale x reader

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hoony2k · 2 months

Text

BEWITCHED AT FIRST SIGHT

It's supposed to be a simple task, film another challenge but...why does does his body feel numb, hands shake like jelly and heart beats like crazy?

PAIRING: OT7

GENRE: fluff, angst

WORD COUNT: 2k total

WARNINGS: none

NOTE: hii! It's finally here after eons! I'm finally satisfied with it, this was so fun to write. My favourite is hee's part <3 hope it lived up to your expectations, sorry for the wait. Enjoy :)

Requested. Masterlist

Part 4 of idol!enha x idol! Series

★ HEESEUNG:

One look and he knows what the heart wants.

Spring wedding, open area near sea, 3-tier vanilla and chocolate cake-

Heeseung’s always been a man who follows his plan so as he approaches, he begins to slow his walk and make himself as charismatic as possible. He pretends he doesn’t want to giggle as he observes how you quickly check him out. Barely noticeable, so swift that one blink and someone would miss it. Thankfully Heeseung was looking, waiting for your reaction. Your expression remains neutral, pretend to be busy fixing your belt.

Heeseung smiles like he’s won the lottery. Of course, it’d be more fun if you pretend you’re uninterested.

After a greeting that shouldn’t be so casual but is, Heeseung’s heart swells with pride seeing how you’re not backing down, keeping up the act but giving him an opening, letting the bait flutter near him but not too close.

“Do you want to rehearse?”, he asks. You barely glance at him and look at his manager but he knows who you’re speaking to. “I was thinking we’d do it in one take”. He shrugs his shoulders. You’re so close that his coat brushes your bare shoulder. You don’t take a step back. Neither does he.

The manager gives the two of you a confused look. “If we take the perfect first take, sure”.

You shine a million-watt smile at her, lips pink with glitter and gloss stretch to show off your teeth. Then, you turn to Heeseung and straighten your shoulders, trying to appear taller than you are yet you still crane your neck to look at him. Your pretty smile is gone but your eyes speak to him instead, daring and bold.

"Are you ready?"

Good thing Heeseung has always loved a good challenge.

★ JAY:

He doesn't think too much about it, it's just a small challenge, greet the person, teach them the dance, bonus points if they already know it and then actually film it and leave. He came mentally prepared to follow the same protocol he usually did when they filmed with female idols.

Although he did not expect to be swept off his feet the moment he heard your laughter as he turned and entered the hall where it was to take place.

Definity is mentally unprepared to see someone so ethereal that for a solid second, he has to pause his walk. His legs seem to be glued to the floor. All he can think of is how he needs to impress you on the first encounter, he has to make sure you keep thinking about him the way he knows he won’t be able to stop replaying your laughter in his head.

However, it's the first time Jay ever felt like this, he’s not sure how to approach it. His hands shake not because he's going on stage for the first time. The tip of his ears feel red and not because he's eaten spicy fried chicken. His tongue feels heavy, his mind scattered with nervousness and not because he's mentally unprepared. He knows what to do- film a challenge of his comeback song, the song and dance steps that have been engraved in his mind.

But when you look at him with those sweet welcoming eyes, Jay knows he’s gone. He stands next to you while his manager speaks but ahh!! he thinks of how he needs your number to be able to feel like he’s crossed the distance between you two.

You turn to address him but he interrupts you with a greeting, voice wavering.

There’s a pause, and confusion in the air but thankfully before it could get any awkward, you cackle and everything is okay again. You stretch a hand out and when Jay encloses it, he can't help but compare the difference in size.

You give him a teasing smile, “how are you?”

He’s not making it out alive.

★ JAKE:

he's not someone that actively watches performances of other groups online but he read up on your profile before meeting you.

Jake knows the image the site uploaded doesn't do you justice because it didn't capture the mole on your face, the delicate curve of your eye or the puzzled look in your eyes as you nod in the conversation.

He's able to recognise his feelings immediately, they're too dangerous. Alarms are blaring in his head and he needs to bottle this up before it fizzes out and he has to explore the sensation in his fingertips.

So that's what he does, he greets you with a big jake sim smile and asks about your day and if you ate.

Your eyes crinkle in glee and thankfully you respond with the same joy as him. Though he ignores how you sound even better in real life. His brain tells him award show performances will never be the same again- he needs to experience you singing live. But before that, he needs to film the challenge.

His manager asks him if he's ready, the unsaid "You good?" is loud for Jake but he replies with another smile. Larger and more confident. He tells himself he won't lose himself in the act- he can't risk it.

Then, he chooses to surprise his manager and himself but moving his entire body towards you and addressing you "Let's do our best!"

You clap in agreement, more motivated than before and Jake almost feels bad. You give him a bright thumbs up and tell him you look forward to his comeback, how sweet venom raised the bar for you. These aren't empty words, he sees the glimmer in your eyes.

Jake fears that he might have been too convincing with his friendly act and now you'll look for him in the halls the way he will try not to do the same.

The challenge is filmed smoothly and time passes by far too quickly much to his distaste. If it was up to him, he'd freeze this moment. Get himself stuck in a time loop with you so he could have eternity to soak in your presence, your confidence, your being.

But it's not up to Jake, it never has and right now he hasn't reached his peak. There are other precious people tied to his career, he tells his heart. It's better if he leaves the interaction here, in the past, ignoring the what-ifs and focusing on how to politely say goodbye and good luck. Focus on how to keep you at a safe distance in the future and ignore the guilt he feels.

★ SUNGHOON:

Sunghoon is aware of the effect he has on people. He’s learned to grow accustomed to how people stutter and can’t hold eye contact with him but he’s never been the one who goes weak in the knees- until today.

It’s supposed to be a simple, quick challenge filming, except it’s everything but that because one looks at you and he can’t stop replaying your shy laugh in his head. He’s rendered speechless. He offers you a ‘hello” nod that he hopes you don’t find disrespectful in your first encounter. He prays it isn’t the last. It’s as if fate brought karma upon him for accidentally leading people on. You don’t even look at him while the manager speaks and he can feel his heart twist.

Sunghoon has never wanted someone to glance at him so badly, so desperately.

“I can teach you”, is what he says, so slowly that his voice catches you off guard. You look bashful again, embarrassed almost and he regrets speaking. Do you like his voice? It didn’t crack even once.

You scratch your cheek, “There’s just one move I’m confused about”. Sunghoon can’t help the huge smile that escapes him. “Want to go over it together before we practise?”

He steps a foot closer, everything is beginning to blur, he can’t hear the murmurs of the nearby conversations, he can’t see anyone but you, not even the managers. Your perfume smells so soft, he wants to drown in it. it’s just you and the confidence in your eyes.

You give him a firm nod and Sunghoon knows the ambiguity behind it.

“Sure, why not?”, you say intending to prolong the meeting.

This time when he smiles, it’s not at your response but at the future he knows you see with him.

★ SUNOO:

He's genuinely so so excited to be here and film another challenge, he loves doing challenges and meeting potential friends. However, when you enter the room, he flashes a knowing smile. there’s a friend to lovers already in the works in his mind.

Sunoo is so bubbly throughout the filming, that it makes you wonder if his cheerful comments are subtly patronizing you. Remembering the first couple of steps isn’t a hard task but he compliments you as if you can solo the whole dance. After you get used to his presence and comments, only then do you realise that there is not a hint of malice or ill intent behind his words and actions, he genuinely wants you to feel comfortable and elt down your guard.

It’s a sweet gesture, one that you’re not accustomed to which is why Sunoo is so careful to not say anything that could be misinterpreted. He tells himself he only feels like he has to protect you because he wants to befriend you.

does he find you pretty? Sure, you’re an idol you’re bound to be pretty. It’s not that big of a deal but as soon as the atmosphere turns warm, with you and the manager exchanging jokes like old friends, he can’t help but wonder if he wants to be friends…or if is there something more his heart wants.

He knows he won’t be satisfied by the line between friends but the ambuity he feels doesn’t scare him. It makes him wonder what the future may hold for you. If you will invite him to film with him. It would be good PR and marketing, it would be something fans would want after seeing you dance to sweet venom. It would be something Sunoo would love- to meet you again. On camera, off camera, it didn’t matter.

But he won’t ponder on the what ifs, he won’t let himself second guess his actions when he asks for your number, and he won’t think if you find him charming as you type in your number. He’ll let the relationship take its natural course and hopefully begin something romantic with you.

★ JUNGWON:

he’s gone a good couple of years locking his heart away, never letting it think too much while he gazes at idols performing. He doesn’t let himself think about other idols unless it’s with a sense of inspiration or admiration. He almost perfected rejecting affection but all his hard work goes down the drain when he sees you.

You’re not even doing anything unusual, just talking to him like any decent person would. You ask him about his day and then drop a “let's work hard!” with a thumbs up and immediately fail at the first take.

It shouldn’t be so endearing watching you practise the same step over again and again but he can hear his heart rattle the cage.

“Put less pressure in the swing”, he advises and has to stop himself from holding your arm mid-dance. He clenches his fist instead and lets a dimple show. You glance at your arm and then back at him.

“I didn’t think about that”, you confess, a bit appalled, “Is that how you do it?”

The question makes him pause and wonder if it is how they all do it. He thinks of Ni-ki and then himself and gives a firm nod, but you don’t seem satisfied, the furrow in your delicate brows doesn’t leave. So you do something that shatters Jungwon’s world, breaks the cage he sweat blood and tears to build- heart leaping out of his mouth.

“I mean, is that how you do it? I want to match my style with yours”.

He blinks once, then twice. The tips of his ears burn red and he stutters for a coherent response. He’s completely forgotten his dance style at the sudden spotlight. The light you’re giving him.

“I guess, I could teach you how I do it”, he laughs unsure at your determined expression. It makes his heart soften.

He knows he can’t afford to start anything less than platonic with you, but thinking about you can’t hurt right?

★ NI-KI:

Ni-ki knows what respect feels like, how the feeling slowly spreads in his chest when he watches his seniors perform. It feels like everything but this. It doesn’t blossom slowly, it doesn’t make him feel jittery all over, it doesn’t distract him from his work to focus on how cute your freckles are or how there’s a hair strand that’s slipped out of your braid. He shouldn’t fix it, should he?

All he knows is that your attention on him will settle whatever he's feeling. Whenever you turn to him with your dazzling smile and sparkly makeup, Ni-ki feels like he can breathe again.

So, he begins to speak and speak and speak until the manager asks him if he wants to practice the dance instead.

You chirp in and agree, somehow you seem comfortable with him and he hasn’t even complimented you yet. All he talked about was how he loved your comeback. He feels his chest swell with pride when he realizes you’ve become more confident and assured when you mimic his teaching. Ni-ki thrives on how well you’re responding to his subtle attempts to appear cool so you can compliment him.

But when you do say “You make the hook look so easy”, fingers pinched and head moving along the beat, Ni-ki is rendered speechless. He was focused on wanting you to compliment him so bad that he had no idea how to react if you did.

Now, he lets his neck flush red and stutters his words, “It’s not that hard”. It isn’t when that’s what he’s been practicing for months but you haven’t!

The potential misunderstanding grabs him by the throat and he splutters, hands waving to console himself rather than you- you don’t look offended or upset.

You stare up at him with soft eyes yet Ni-ki has never felt so small.

“I didn’t mind anything”, you comfort him and he notices how your arm jerks upwards to pat him but halts midway, hesitant. Ni-ki lets out a breath to rewire his nerves.

He nods at you, gaining fortitude by the minute but in these moments of hesitancy where he almost touches your hand to fix its position or when you bite back another compliment, he genuinely believes that he’s not the only one with wobbly legs.

Thank you for reading!

All rights belong to me. Please do not copy/translate/edit.

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peachypinkygloss · 9 months

Note

Hii babes! 💗 Congrats on the milestone, for my request can I have Jungkook who kidnapped oc and is fucking her Infront of the TV where it shows her missing? Dumbification please! thank you love <33 💕

hello baby!! 🤍 o.m.g i gotta say I am baffled, BUT IN A GOOD WAY! how didn't I think of this myself 😪 love u, mwah 💋 x

crafting new memories

You're his and nothing else matters.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: stockholm syndrome, dub-con, dumbification, unprotected sex, 900 words.

a.n.: ok sorry but I needed to put fluff, you guys know me. nothing's better than twisted fluff 🫣 you know the drill: don't like, don't read 🫶🏻

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game! 🤍

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

It doesn't do anything to you anymore. All those strangers, those people that you didn't really know before, crying and asking you to come back home used to make you cry, too.

Your eyes would become watery, your hands would shake and your heart would beat louder in your chest. It didn't really matter who they were, all you knew was that people were mourning you as if you were actually dead.

You wanted to call your mother, tell her that you're fine, that you're still alive, that she doesn't need to worry. But it doesn't feel so necessary anymore.

The news only mentions you when they're talking about other missing people because it's been too long now. They've stopped showing your parents and they've stopped updating everyone on the police investigation. They've just stopped searching for you.

You're the past now and they're living in the present. They've moved on, and so have you.

You're embarrassed to say it, but it was easy to do. It was easy to turn the pages and finally close the book of your previous life. It's terrible how the man who took you away is the very same one who also gave you a new life.

A new home, a new heart.

It's incredible how he's managed to make you forget by just replacing the old memories with new ones. He crafted them for you. With his words, with his hands, with his lips, he created every thought of yours so the old ones would never come back haunting you.

"Feels good, baby?" Jungkook whispers above you, his hips thrusting in.

"Yes," you softly moan and grab onto him, passing your arms around his shoulders.

You keep him against you as he fucks you lovingly, breathing onto your face, hovering over you with his hands on each side of your head.

You can faintly hear the sound of the TV playing, someone stating the daily news. Jungkook takes a hold of your jaw and makes you turn your head to the side, your blurry eyes laying on the TV's screen.

You think you hear your name, but you're not sure. Your mind is fuzzy, clouded with thoughts about Jungkook and only Jungkook. You squint your eyes as the picture of someone familiar appears on the screen but you're too distracted by his cock entering and exiting your wet pussy.

You don't understand why he forces you to look, his large hand keeping your head in place. "Do you recognize her?" He asks, his lips brushing against your skin, his nose pressing down on your face.

You feel like you're going to suffocate, but you don't dislike the feeling, not at all. You love being so close to him that it becomes difficult to breathe, difficult to think.

"Is it... me?" You frown, another moan ripping out of you as he pounds you onto the couch, not missing a beat.

"It was," he answers breathily. "But not anymore. You're mine, now," he says and makes you face him again, your lips centimetres away from his. "Only mine, right, baby?"

"Yes," you agree without hesitation and Jungkook chuckles, a beautiful sound that makes your stomach flutter.

"Yeah," he grins, biting down on his lip. "It's the only thing you can say, too dumb to think for yourself," he mocks you, but you know there's no mean intention behind it.

He just finds you adorable, loves how pretty you look under him, totally in bliss.

"My stupid little girl." He trails kisses down your neck and over your breasts, perky nipples pointing at him. "What would you do without me, hm? You poor little thing," he coos, still smooching the tender skin of your neck.

"Jungkook, please," you beg, getting a bit impatient, clit pulsating. "Need to cum," you whine and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it so he looks at you.

He groans at your neediness, leaving the crook of your neck to connect his eyes with yours. "My baby wants to cum around my cock? Is that what she wants?" He questions, even though he knows that's what you're asking for, pussy clenching helplessly around him.

"Please." You nod repeatedly, twisting his hair between your fists.

Jungkook smiles sweetly and pecks your lips, slowing the pace of his hips. "Everything my baby wants."

He sneaks his tattooed hand between your two bodies and reaches your puffy, swollen clit. He does quick circular motions on your bud with his thumb, picking up his pace again.

You moan out, showing him how good it feels, the knot in your stomach tightening. "I love you, Jungkook," you admit, even though he already knows.

Your pussy clenches around him and he has a hard time focusing on anything else than his cock sliding in your cunt. "Shit, me too, I-" he cuts himself off, looking down where your bodies connect. "I love you too, baby," he mutters under his breath, feeling his balls tightening.

You whine into his ear and he could get off just at the sound of you. He keeps going, fucking you until his thighs begin to shake and he has to steady his hips against yours.

"Fuck," he curses, releasing himself inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum.

It's shortly after that your orgasm passes through you, sweet moans escaping your mouth, walls quivering around him. Jungkook takes his time to pamper you in kisses, staying inside of you a bit more, lazily thrusting in.

"Mine," he repeats so you don't forget, but there's no need to.

You'll never leave him.

#🍑 [drabble game]#requests #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfiction

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reverie-starlight · 2 months

Text

{beautiful liar- m. atsumu}

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. highly suggestive at the end <3

it’s my birthday month, would you expect anyone other than atsumu to be the main focus?

atsumu thinks you’re beautiful when you lie to him.

the subtle strain of your facial features as you try to keep your expression neutral makes his heart beat faster in his chest.

he can’t help but feel fondness for you, even as you stand before him with the blood still on your hands. even after you’ve hurt him beyond repair, he can’t help but admire your quirks and tells and how hard you fight to keep his trust.

he places his hands on the countertop and lets the coolness of the marble bring him back to reality.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” he tries again, silently pleading with you to have mercy on him and finally cut him down from your web of lies.

“baby, do you know where my gym bag is or not?”

he watches as your expression cracks just a bit. you’re trying so hard not to break as you shake your head.

he thinks you’re absolutely stunning when you tilt your head down to hide the smile that finally cuts through.

“angel…” he warns, like he’s trying to keep a child from doing something they shouldn’t be. “look at me, please.”

he can’t help but laugh a little when your eyes meet his again and he sees that you’re tearing up from the effort.

it’s a known fact that you’re not a good liar unless the situation is… dire. you wear your heart on your sleeve, and that’s an admirable quality. atsumu has the same one, and he’s learned to like it on himself a bit more since loving it on you.

but he still grew up a twin, and even if he can’t hide his stronger emotions, he is most definitely a better liar than you.

(something he never lets you forget when he exploits your horrible poker face. like right now.)

“yes, ‘tsum?”

he shakes his head and smiles. “don’t ‘‘tsum’ me. I know ya hid my bag. don’t even try to lie to me, ya literally can’t.”

you finally let out a laugh of your own and he wonders if there are stars in his eyes making you shine this way, or if you’re just like that.

the butterflies in his stomach start fluttering again when you get up from the bar stool and walk to his side of the kitchen island.

you wrap your arms around his neck and he doesn’t think twice before letting his hands settle on your hips.

“I guess I can tell you where your bag is for a small fee.”

he raises an eyebrow. “oh can ya? how generous.”

you blow some air in his eye at his remark. “the fee is a kiss.”

“hmm, I don’t know if you deserve one after lying to me for a full ten minutes. well-“ he stops to correct himself. “attempting to lie to me.”

you gasp, but he knows you’re still being playful. “excuse me? never mind, I take it back, you’re not getting that bag today.”

“sweetheart~” he holds you tighter against him when you start to pull away and starts peppering kisses against your cheek.

“don’t you start sweet talking me, miya. it won’t work.”

he sighs and throws his head back. he’s not truly annoyed- he makes that clear with the easy, lovesick expression on his face- but he at least wants to know why you’re trying so hard to keep him home.

“baby. what’s going on with ya? is everything okay?”

you nod a little and he hates that his words cause you to frown. if his hands weren’t so comfortable on your hips, he’d bring one up to smooth out your forehead. “yeah… I’m sorry I’m making you late, I just miss you.”

his eyes widen. the new season has just started, so he’s been trying to get back into the swing of things. he loves going to practice, and he loves the new beginnings every start of the season brings, really he does.

but he hates the transition period between spending most of his time with you to having to find a healthy balance again.

of course you always reassure him that you understand it takes a minute to adjust, but that doesn’t mean he feels good about the unintentional neglect that can come from it.

he rubs his nose against your cheek. “baby, I’m sorry,” he starts. “ya know I don’t like being away for too long.”

your bottom lip juts out the tiniest bit and he leans in to kiss it. “I know… and I also know it’s selfish to keep you here because I’m feeling lonely… guess I’ve just been a little needier than usual lately.”

he thinks back to how you’ve practically been hanging off of him this whole week. he was a little confused by it, sure, but more so he’s been eating up all the attention and indulging you as much as possible.

taking in a deep breath, he makes a split second decision that will definitely have consequences later- good or bad, he won’t know until they come to pass.

but he knows whatever the outcome, it’ll be more than worth it just because he gets to see you smile now while carrying you to the sofa.

“atsumu! what are you doing?!“

“screw the gym bag, I’m staying here with you today.”

you gasp at his words and a panicked look washes over your face. “wait, no, that’s not what I was getting at-“

he shushes you. “no no, listen. it’s early in the season. we don’t have any games scheduled for a long while, yet and I stayed late last night. one day off won’t hurt, I’ll just go in earlier tomorrow.”

if his younger self could hear him now, he’d probably throw a fit, but he’s older and wiser and his angel needs him, so this is obviously the only logical solution.

your eyes gloss over with adoration, and there’s no room left inside of him for the guilt from skipping a day that he’s been building up for years.

he feels good about his decision to make you a priority. he felt good about it years ago when he asked you out and he gets the feeling he’ll feel good about it twenty years from now, wherever the both of you are by that point.

nothing could ever make him regret making you his top priority. you’ve given him so much, it’s only right that he does the same for you.

“thank you, ‘tsum,” you say after a while of just existing together on the couch.

he nuzzles into your neck and lets the warmth spread through his body at the feel of your torso against his. “‘course, sweetheart. but I’m still curious-“

he lifts himself up just enough that his face is hovering over yours. “where did you hide my gym bag?”

your peaceful expression twists into a smirk. “still not telling~” you sing.

he snorts. “alright, keep your secrets. we both know I have other methods of getting it out of ya. we’ve done this dance too many times, baby.”

you giggle and shake your head fondly. “oh ‘tsum, you couldn’t torture this information out of me. it’s too much fun for me to have something over you.”

his grin is wolfish as he takes in your words. “alright, sure, keep digging yourself into a deeper hole and see how fun it’ll be for ya later.”

“aww, you’re all bark no bi- hey!” you shriek as he playfully bites your nose.

“yeah, yeah, we’ll see if ya still think that when I’m done with ya.”

you don’t put up a fight when he slings you over his shoulder and carries you back to your bedroom.

BONUS:

you take the water bottle he offers you and gulp down half of it in one go.

he takes it from you and sets it off to the side before laying down beside you, equally spent. he feels you looking at him, so he raises an eyebrow at you questioningly.

he knows that look- you’re not completely ready to back down yet. just like when you lie, he thinks you look stunning when you refuse to give in.

“I hid it in the laundry room.”

he sits up a bit and looks down at you with narrowed eyes. “oh really?”

“uh huh.”

“and why’s that?”

the look on your face is lit up with sinister mischief, like you know your words will strike a chord inside of him. “needed to make sure it was in a place you don’t go very often.”

it’s obviously a jab with no real malicious intent (he’s very good about doing his laundry), but it has him playfully growling and pinning you beneath him once more.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be today, hm?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ahem. anyway. he is my everything and I would absolutely hide his things to keep him with me longer. inspired by me bc I have a horrible poker face. cannot lie without laughing to save my life.

@rrairey since this is the fic that one WIP came from I thought I’d tag you, hope that’s okay :3

@emmyrosee 🫶🏻🫶🏻

hope you enjoyed!

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

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springtyme · 2 months

Note

Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.

So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.

I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!

Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡

Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!

Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.

Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”

Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.

You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”

You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.

Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”

“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.

Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.

“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.

“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.

He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.

As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.

Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.

It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.

“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.

Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.

“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”

Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.

“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.

Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”

“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.

Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.

“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.

You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.

Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.

“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.

You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”

“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.

You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.

You playfully roll your eyes, but there��s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.

Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.

And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.

As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move

“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.

Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.

“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.

“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”

You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.

As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Fields of Elation

Part 1

Rating: E Warnings: Dubcon if you squint

The garden has become a riot of color in the last week.

Native blooms in every vibrant color you could find, praying for pollinators to watch from the reading nook. The first butterfly fluttered in yesterday morning while you sipped tea. You could have squealed with excitement, aching to tell someone and denying the twinge in your chest when you realized who “someone” was.

You’re not thinking of him now. No. Absolutely not. Gardens are not for blood-soaked, violent men that smell like gunpowder and smoke – and neither are your thoughts. Your thoughts are to be as sun-soaked as the flowers, bleached out by warmth and light. Depthless, shadowless.

There’s soil dusting your fingers. You kneel in the flossy grass to plant wooden dowels, support for drooping stems growing too tall, too fast. You’re endeared by them, that they’re exploding with so much life that they need a helping hand. Perhaps you’re anthropomorphizing them a bit too much. This little recess you’ve carved out of the world is beautiful but lonely.

You hum a soft tune as you bow twine, some happy new pop song about summer. Heard it on the radio in the grocery store and haven’t gotten it out of your head since. The back of your neck prickles.

“Missed your voice, bonnie.”

You yelp as big, rough hands scoop you from the ground. Strong fingers grip your thigh, a wide palm supports your ribs, tugging you close to a thick, muscular body. The rough fabric of tac gear sands against the exposed skin of your stomach. You flail until your arms loop around broad shoulders, a chuckle rumbling into the hollow of your throat.

“Missed that noise specifically.”

You gasp air for another shout, but get jostled up into a fireman’s carry, wind knocked out of you. There will be no screaming for your distant neighbors this time.

“Put me down,” you wheeze instead.

“In a mo’, love.”

You grunt indignantly as the ground blurs beneath you, tools left behind as powerful legs tread the path back to your little house. Spend the disconcertingly short journey thinking of new things to call him, since you’ve been running out.

There’s a heavy wooden thump.

“Don’t kick my door!” you screech.

“I’ll fix the damn door,” he growls back.

Your head spins as you’re dropped to your bare feet on the wood floors, just inside the back door. Steady yourself on corded forearms to catch your bearings, then open your mouth to give him a dressing down he hasn’t had since recruit days.

But a hot, wet tongue slides against yours, curling expertly into your mouth. Dry, warm lips pressing hard. That same arm curls around your chest to gather you close; the breadth of him steals your coherence as much his kiss. Your venomous words are superseded by a soft noise, one that you’ll deny is the admission of pleasure he takes it as.

When he pulls away, you find your fingers curled in the muted green of his shirt, knuckles pressed against his beating heart. Its pace matches yours.

You flutter your eyes open, find summer blue gazing back. Softer than the grass you just knelt in, warmer than the sun in your hair. You swallow back surrender, blink away admissions.

“I was in the middle of something, you bastard,” you snap.

John MacTavish grins back, crooked and arrogant, the scar beneath his eye pulling. “It’ll keep.”

“Then so will dinner.”

His eyes light up. You curse as you realize your mistake.

“You gonnae cook f’me, love?”

“No.” You back away, but it’s like trying to outrun the wind. He manages to make your deliberate retreat feel like a choice he’s making, hedging you deeper into the house. Back, back, unerringly corralling you towards the bedroom. You know it, but you’re helpless to stop it.

“S’alright, you’ve been cookin’ enough, I reckon,” he drawls. “Don’t mind makin’ somethin’ fer you.”

If by “cooking” he means cobbled together snacks that level out to something like nutritional balance, then yeah. You’ve been cooking for yourself.

“Not enough ingredients for two,” you snark, eyes sliding away in a show of dismissal. “You’ll have to starve.”

He smirks, balancing you with hands on your waist when you bump the bedroom door ajar. Your stomach clenches up like you’re on a rollercoaster. Know what’s coming next but dig your heels in anyway.

“Nah, just gonnae eat now.”

Your mouth drops open just as he pounces, squealing as your back hits the mattress. The ceiling is decorated in fairy lights you forgot to turn off this morning. They twinkle brightly as John wrestles your dirty cotton “work” shorts off your thighs, leaves them hanging off one calf.

“Goddamit!” you shout as he tears through yet another pair of underwear. Nothing special, mind, but it’s the principle of the thing. They’re not his to rip.

“Gotcha more ‘fore I came home.”

That doesn’t make it better, you try to tell him. What comes out is a warbling moan as he buries his tongue in your pussy. Licks from your shamefully leaking hole to your already-throbbing clit. He grunts in reply, deep and rough in his wide chest. Drops himself onto the floor for better access, pulling your thighs over his shoulders.

Eats you out like this really is his first and last meal. Sloppy and wet and loud, audible over the sounds you try to stifle behind your forearm because your hands are still dirty. Get away with it for all of a minute (being generous) before he’s pulling back just enough to speak – even if it’s right into your cunt.

“No, no, no, we have a deal,” he growls. You whimper as his hands clamp down on your squirming hips. “I’m home now, you’re mine. This pussy, those noises, they’re all mine again.”

Your hands fly to his hair as he dives in again, tangling in dark, course strands as he laps at you like a dog. If you could rally the brain power to speak more than unintelligible sounds, you’d mock him with that imagery. But knowing him, he’d revel in the comparison. Would bark just to prove a point.

You can’t stand that you know him.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “My goddess.”

You arch as he sucks your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over the bundle of the nerves. Thumbs massaging into the plush of you. Stubble prickling a bit; you’ll have to remember to tell him off for that later.

“Missed me too,” he continues, flat of his tongue licking a long stripe up your slit. Strings of your slick web between his mouth and your pussy. “Dripping like you missed me, anyway.”

“D-didn’t,” you whine.

He chuckles, the absolute devil, humming as he curls his tongue inside you. Doesn’t believe you, doesn’t even deign to challenge it. Just keeps fucking you on his mouth, groaning when your twitchy fingers tug at his hair. Doubles his efforts, any semblance of restraint crumbling as the time and distance overwhelm his usually infallible patience. Overwhelm you too.

It’s been so long – since the night before he last left. You’re oversensitive and touch-starved and John is a feast for your body and soul. Lose everything to the tides of lust, the current of ecstasy. Washed out to a sea of bliss, floating on awful need. Tilt your hips into the next swipe of his tongue, back arching, thighs tightening as you shudder.

“John,” you keen, “John, Johnny.”

He makes a gutted noise. One hand jerking from your hip to slide two thick fingers into you. Tears gather and rebel down your cheeks as he zeroes in on that sweet, achy spot inside of you. He is a man for whom mercy is scarce and he has none to spare for you, stroking and tapping relentlessly. Your peak rushes up frighteningly fast, voice lost in the shock of it as you clamp down.

He works you through it, savoring your orgasm like the first inhale of smoke in his lungs. Keeps licking and rubbing until your sobbing with overstimulation, trying to scramble away.

“No, John,” you warble, “t-too much, please!”

The sound when he pulls away is utterly obscene. If you had any room in your empty brain for embarrassment, you’d wish for the mattress to swallow you whole. You flutter your eyes open and stare blankly at the fairy lights as you struggle to breathe.

John’s kissing your trembling thighs like he didn’t just ruin everything all over again, whispering devotion into your beard burn.

When you manage to sit up a bit on shaking arms, you find him kneeling there. A supplicant to the alter of your pleasure. Ruthlessly handsome, war-torn. His chin glistens with your slick. You reach to wipe it away, but he catches your wrist in a deceptively gentle hand. Keeps his blown-out eyes on yours as he presses a slow kiss into the center of your palm.

Words bubble in your chest, too honest, even for you.

“My hands are dirty,” you whisper.

“Never.”

You curl your fingers around his jaw. Tell yourself it’s not a caress, no matter how he leans into it. “When did you get back?”

“Eighteen hours.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Gather your scattered wits. “You wore your damn boots in the house.”

He huffs with amusement, leans his forehead into your stomach. “I’ll mop.”

“You’ll shower first. You smell like travel.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“I have to finish in the garden.”

He scowls even with his eyes closed. You tap-tap-tap absently at his shoulder, where your hand has naturally come to rest.

“I’ll come out with you,” he grumbles.

“You’ll scare the birds.”

“Fuck the birds.”

You tsk, but there’s no force on earth that will keep him inside. “Mean bastard.”

He grins against your stomach. “Darling wife.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #hades john mactavish #captain john mactavish #persephone reader #hades and persephone #hades/persephone au #sort of #fields of elation fic

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astronomysturniolos · 18 days

Text

matt sturniolo x gf

surprise surprise

warnings: pet names, p in v, fingering, kissing, hickey placing, kissing

summary: matt is on tour but what happens when you miss him so much you can’t stand not seeing him anymore, and things take a pleasurable turn for you both

—————————————

as i stepped off the plane, excitement bubbled within me like champagne fizzing in a glass. it had been three long months since i last held him, kissed him, felt the warmth of his embrace. but now, the moment was finally here. i could hardly contain my eagerness as i made my way through the bustling airport, my heart pounding in anticipation of our reunion.

the thought of surprising him on tour had kept me going during those lonely nights without him. i had planned every detail, from coordinating with laura, to double checking my arrival remained a secret. the element of surprise was crucial. i wanted to see the shock and joy in his eyes when he laid eyes on me after all this time.

as I approached the venue, my heart fluttered with nervous excitement. would he be thrilled to see me, or would he be caught off guard? doubts crept into my mind, but i brushed them aside, focusing on the overwhelming love and longing that fueled my determination to make this moment unforgettable. checking my appearance in my phone camera, adjusting my hair, and walking into the doors.

with a shaky breath, i waited backstage, hidden from view, as the minutes ticked by like eternity. every sound made me jump with anticipation, imagining that each footstep belonged to him. and then, finally, the moment arrived. i caught a glimpse of him through the curtain, and my heart skipped a beat.

he stepped onto the stage, his presence commanding the attention of the crowd. my eyes drank in the sight of him, the way his eyes sparkled under the stage lights, the familiar curve of his smile making me already blush. the way his tattoos were enhanced by the spotlight focused on him, and his veins moving everytime he put the mic to his mouth. honestly i didn’t know how much longer i could last without his hands roaming my body.

and then, as if on cue, our eyes met as he glanced to his side, seeing me behind the curtains. time seemed to stand still as recognition dawned on his face, followed by disbelief, then unbridled joy. he has to keep calm because of his fans, but his eyes showed me how much he wanted to run and hug me in the moment.

after the show everyone gave us alone time in the bus. reunited at last. and as he enveloped me in his arms, whispering words of love and gratitude, his hands grazed my ass. warmth already growing in my core. “i missed you so much baby” he whines, still gripping my ass with his head in my neck. “i missed you too matt” i giggle, running my hands through his hair.

“but honestly” i start, as he pulls his head up to make eye contact with me. motioning for me to continue “i think you need to show me just how much you missed me” i say, bringing my hands to his arms, tracing his tattoos.

“oh yeah?” he teases, titling his head at me. and his eyes, piercing through me. i can’t control myself any longer. i nod and instantly attack his lips, like their water and im in a drought. our tongues battling for dominance, even though he always wins.

we walk to the couch never disconnecting from each other, and he towers over me as i’m laid down, my arms keeping me slanted upwards. he starts trailing kisses down my neck. “please matt” i whine, needing him so badly. “what baby, you need something?” he teases, feeling the smile grow on his face against my neck, along with the hickeys already growing. “need you please” i manage to say, my core so hot it can start a fire. “your wish is my command princess” he says before taking his shirt off.

he tugs at the bottom of my pink let’s trip 5 mil shirt, “can i take this off” he asks, as if it is even a question. all i do is nod as he quickly removes it, smiling when he sees i have no bra on. “so perfect baby, just for me hm?” he asks and i just hum in response.

he fumbles with his jeans as i remove mine as well, now we are both just in our underwear, and as i try to take mine off he stops me, taking his thumb on my clit and rubbing circles. a moan slips out my mouth as he continues “you like this, me rubbing on u huh?” he asks, i just nod in reply, but that isn’t enough for him. “use your words gorgeous” he says, still rubbing circles, occasionally sticking a finger inside my underwear. “yes matt. yes.” i say out of breathe.

he rips my underwear off my hips and take his finger and puts it in my pussy and holy fuck did i miss him. his veiny long fingers pushing in and out of me. i groan in pleasure as he continues. “so good matt. so soo good” i ramble, feeling him stick another finger in. still thrusting in and out of me mumbling words of affirmation every couple seconds.

after im finally stretched out enough, i put my hand on his wrist. making him stop, and “i need your dick matt. right now.” comes out of my mouth without warning, and he immediately starts fumbling with his underwear, finally taking it off and holy fucking shit. i forgot how big he was.

he aligns it at my hole, looking at me and i give him a nod of approval. he puts the tip in slowly and we both let out a breathe of relief. he keeps going until he bottoms out and he just lays on top of my for a minute, catching his breathe.

without warning he starts pounding into me, pulling almost fully out before going in again. and i think im seeing stars. this is probably the best sex me and him have had yet. his chain dangling in my face and the sweat dripping onto my nose from his, making me wanna just soak up every ounce of him. he hits the one spot where i let out a pornographic moan, him continuing onto that spot until i feel my release creep onto me.

“i’m close matt” i say, barely audible from all the pleasure. “same.” he breathes out. his thrusts getting sloppy and we hit our highs at the same time. “im coming. shit. i’m coming matt” i repeat, my ears beginning to ring. “me too baby, me too” he says, riding out our highs.

once we finished we just look at eachother and giggle. then my eyes glance to the stove, the clock saying it has been an hour that we have been in here and everyone else is bound to come in any second. “shit matt, it’s been an hour, we have to clean up” i say worried, and he just laughs, “don’t worry baby, there are more problems.” he says, and i look at him confused. i hurriedly get up getting the hint and check the mirror. there are 2 purple spots on my neck.

“matt.” i deadpan in the mirror, looking at him as he just smirks knowingly. “whattt” he says, wrapping his hands around my waist. before i have time to answer the door burst open and chris walks in. “ew, get a room” he says with a look of disgust on his face, going straight to the bunks. me and matt laughing as everyone else follows him inside.

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anna speaks: this is ur time to yell at me im sorry i haven’t writing or even posted in a while but school is kicking my ass but i’m gonna try n be more active!!😜😜

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