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#should i? if youre an asshole to me about simply not liking your shit then why the hell would i feel safe disclosing medical info to your
abbyscherry · 3 months
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please keep unfollowing me. you stay silent, you are complicit with what’s happening. i don’t want fake ass friends.
to the ones who would rather ignore it and the ones who just don’t fucking care; you’re pathetic. you’re disgusting, and i wish i didn’t know you.
i feel sick to my stomach. i’m sick to my stomach. disgusted even by the fact you’re blatantly ignoring a genocide. scrolling past videos and posts about the real world where people are dying every minute, and instead you sit there giggling like a complete twat. literal fucking idiots asking me why i’m mad. the question you should be asking yourself is, why are YOU not mad? why are YOU not upset? why are YOU not pissed off? why are YOU sitting there and acting like nothing is happening?
ya’ll for real make me wanna rip my hair out. you have these big platforms, but you don’t even wanna use it? you state you give a shit, but you’re silent the fucking second something happens? spare me that shit. be for real. if you cared, you would be speaking out more. no one has time for your fake ass excuses anymore.
to the ones who are using their platform and using it to spread awareness. i love you. i love you for using your voice. i love you for simply reblogging everything you see. thank you. you all are amazing.
but for the ignorant assholes? fuck off. get away. you’re all complicit, and i don’t care about you.
As usual, Free Palestine 🇵🇸
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itsharleystuff · 1 year
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
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Gif not mine!
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.
— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)
No use of y/n.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.
It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.
As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.
Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.
Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.
You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.
Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.
The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.
But, oh hell.
What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.
⩇⩇:⩇⩇
You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.
But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.
The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.
To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.
"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.
"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.
"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.
However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.
"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.
"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.
But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.
"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.
"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.
A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.
"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."
"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.
"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.
The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...
"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.
"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."
Ah, fuck.
Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.
"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."
He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.
"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.
"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.
"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.
You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.
Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.
But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.
Because Javier Peña never got jealous.
And yet, there he was.
Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it. 
"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"
He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.
"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"
You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."
The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.
"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."
"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"
He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.
Red light.
"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"
Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.
"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."
His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.
"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."
Green light.
He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.
"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."
The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."
"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.
"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.
"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"
His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.
"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."
You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.
"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.
"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.
At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.
Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.
"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"
His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.
"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.
"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.
"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."
How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.
There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.
Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.
Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.
"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.
"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."
You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.
"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."
"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."
Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.
Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.
"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.
"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."
"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.
At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.
"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."
You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.
"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."
Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.
"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.
In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.
"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too. 
"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"
"No." You breathe out.
"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."
"Sí, Javi."
"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"
"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."
He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.
"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.
Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.
"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."
Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.
"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."
His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.
"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."
You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.
"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."
Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.
"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.
"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.
"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."
He almost caved in. Almost.
"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.
"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.
"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.
"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.
"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.
"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"
Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.
"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."
Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.
"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."
He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.
"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.
"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."
You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."
Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.
"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."
Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.
You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.
Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.
And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.
“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”
He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.
“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.
You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.
“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”
You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.
“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.
Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.
You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”
He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.
“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.
“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.
“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”
“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”
You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”
His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”
He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.
“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”
You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”
“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”
Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”
“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.
“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”
Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”
“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.
“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.
It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.
“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”
You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.
“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”
He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.
To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.
His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.
He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.
“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.
“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”
You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”
“Yes, corazón.”
You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping into his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.
“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”
He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.
You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.
You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.
He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.
“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.
You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”
Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.
“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”
You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”
He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.
“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”
His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.
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pit-and-the-pen · 6 days
Text
Unrequited Love
A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.
Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel.
Part 2: Here Alt Ending: Here Part 3: Here
Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.
Warnings: none
WC-1.4K
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My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.
“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”
His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.
“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.
“So this new book I’m reading…”
“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.
“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.
“What?”
“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”
His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.
“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.
The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.
“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.
“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”
“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.
“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”
My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.
“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”
Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.
“Wait-“
“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.
“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”
When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.
“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.
“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”
He gasped at my words cutting me off
“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”
A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.
“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side
“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.
“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”
He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.
“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.
I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has
been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”
“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”
I walked out of that room with my head held high
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kissitbttr · 2 months
Note
your mafia!toji fic got me thinking so hard abt him😭😭 he’s deffo the type to just buy you sm stuff as an apology but when you don’t forgive him and sleep in a different bedroom mf will come into the room on his knees and beg for you to come to sleep 😩😩 imagine still saying no and him just flipping you onto his shoulders and carrying you to bed 🤭
oh you are absolutely correct!
|
“darling” toji softly calls you, letting out a tired sigh. “i said i was sorry. what am i supposed to do?”
“die” she replies nonchalantly, shoulders shrugging before grabbing a pillow and your favorite blanket off the bed,
he snickers, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “now, now that would be over dramatic don’t you think? won’t you miss me?”
he almost pisses his pants when she throws him a glare,
“okay. no jokes. got it” he put his hands up in surrender, feeling absolutely terrified at his baby being mad and speaking less than two words to him,
if anyone ever finds out that the most feared and notorious man in the city being tamed by his woman, he would never hear the end of it,
but she is scary. can you blame him?
toji looks over at the designer shoes and bags he just purchased a few hours ago, tucked neatly in the corner. untouched by her.
guess the apology gifts aren’t working,
“i didn’t know that she was coming, i haven’t even talked to her in years! never planned to anyway, you know i only got my eyes for my girl, right?”
she tries so hard not to roll her eyes,
toji had a meeting with one of the cartels at the club earlier that night. and of course, she always goes. it’s where he can always keep an eye on her and refuses to leave her at home all alone because he can’t risk that. also, because she’s his good luck charm. whenever she’s around, deals always goes well,
tonight was an exception though,
all was well until a certain person decided to crash. his old fling. one before he met his precious girlfriend. the red haired thought that it would be fun to press her fake ass tits against toji,
y/n was shocked to say at least. she didn’t say anything but her face spoke thousand words. toji could see that. throwing daggers at the bitch, corner of her lips quirk into a form of disgust.
and the worst part was? toji didn’t do anything about it! can you believe that asshole?!
something about being absolutely unprofessional if he was ever to push her off and it ticked y/n to the fucking bone so she decided to ignore him the rest of the night,
toji feels defeated when she chooses not to respond, simply just taking her stuff. he crouches lightly to look at her pretty face clearly. “baby… can you please look at me? I can’t stand seeing you mad. i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”
if it was any circumstances, sure she would melt and jump in his arms. but tonight is different. how could he?
she looks up at him and whisper “fuck. you” before turning around angrily and walk out of the door to go sleep on the guest room,
toji groans, the heel of his palms pressing against his eyes. she has always been so stubborn. too fucking stubborn. exactly why he had to get rejected seven times before she accepted his date.
what? he needed to get humbled, so she gave him that.
he contemplate for a while whether or not he should let her be or not. then he chooses the latter. it would probably be best if he let her cool off some steam for a while, he doesn’t want to do any more damage or make her feel more annoyed by his presence,
bet. not even ten minutes later, he feels like losing his mind without her here.
“fuck this shit” he mutters, getting up from the bed. rubbing his face furiously before stomping towards the other side of the room,
he walks in without knocking, ready to say what he needs to say again. yet he stops. heart clenching at the sight of his girl curled up in bed, back facing him.
“love?” he slowly walks over to her laying figure,
“go away” she speaks. now in a softer tone
“please” he begs, walking around the bed and catching a glimpse of her playing with her pink manicured hands. “sweetheart. I’m sorry” he repeats, going down to her eye level before letting his hand moves to rest on her bare thigh. he’s internally relieved when she doesn’t push him off,
he sighs when she’s not looking at him, seemingly only focused on the nails that she had gotten done a week ago.
“i should’ve pushed her off. shouldn’t let her touch me like that. hell, i shouldn’t even let her breathe near me. i know that” he realizes his mistake. “i didn’t even think about what my girl needed. i was being a horrible boyfriend”
no answer,
he sighs again, refusing to look away from her pretty eyes,
“baby—“
“i heard you the first time. leave. and close the door”
toji is taken aback. fuck. she really is mad at him.
“you don’t mean that”
“uhm, yes i do” she retorts in an obvious tone, sassily raising her eyebrow before scooting a bit further from him. she doesn’t realize this but it makes his heart break,
“princess, i swear-“
“go call that girl back to keep you company. let that fucking bitch sleep by your side” she mutters, looking at the tv instead of him,
he can’t take this anymore,
“you know what? that’s it” toji had enough, he will not be sleeping alone and neither will she. standing up on his feet, his hands reach out to circle around her ankles before tugging her body towards him causing her to yelp,
“toji! what the fuck are you doing-oh!” her voice gets cut off the moment he pulls her body up like she weighs nothing. throwing her over his shoulder. “put me down!” her fists start to hitting his back—as if they’re actually hurting him— legs swinging back and forth
“nope” he answers, keeping a firm grip around her waist before swatting her ass, locking the guest room behind him and walking back to their shared one. “you’re driving me crazy, woman—not saying that i hate it, but i’m pretty fucking beat tonight and we are going to sleep together. so stop fighting me”
she huffs, admitting defeat and letting him carry to the bed. “fuck you, toji”
he smirks at that. “oh i will, baby”
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
Text
Jealous mate
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: Azriel doesn’t like that you’re spending all your time with Cassian, even though you haven’t spoken since he revealed that you were mates.
Part two
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Azriel was seething as he watched you and Cassian messing around in the kitchen while you taught him how to bake. It took every once in him not to storm over and beat the living shit out of his brother for even flicking flour in your direction.
He was so focused on you and Cassian he didn’t notice when Elain came up next to him and patted his shoulder: “If you keep scowling like that, it’s going to stay like that permanently,” Elain joked but pulled her hand away when she noticed Azriel’s face growing angrier. “Geez, I was kidding. You do know they’re just friends, right?” Elain added when she saw he was still staring at you and Cassian.
“Of course I do,” Azriel grumbled back: “I just don’t like that he’s having such an easy time talking to her.”
Elain couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the clearly jealous male: “Maybe if you had continued to talk to her after you admitted that you were mates, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Y/n is very easy to talk to. She’s even got Nesta to open up to her, and you know how difficult Nesta is.”
Azriel knew Elain was right. You gave him so many opportunities to get to know you, but instead of taking them, he decided to avoid you. That in turn caused Cassian to step up and started asking you if you would like to spend time with him. “Do you think she’d give me another chance?”
“Of course she would,” Elain looked up at Azriel: “Don’t tell her I told you this, but she asks about you constantly. Because you two don’t interact, she’s been asking all of us about you and what you like. She’s actually the one who made you your birthday cake last month.”
“Wait, what? You said that you made my birthday cake,” Azriel looked at the middle Archeron sister in disbelief.
Feeling guilty, Elain finally confessed: “Y/n told me to take credit for making it.” Azriel felt his heart pounding in his chest at the revaluation. “Because you’ve been avoiding her, she didn’t want you to think she was pushing you to acknowledge her existence. I kept insisting that she should take credit because she was the one who made the cake, but she refused.”
Azriel felt like an asshole because he kept singing Elain praises for the cake he thought she made him, but in reality, you were the one that made it. 
Just as Azriel was about to ask Elain to help him think of a way to talk to you, he heard your voice: “Elain! Azriel, would you like some bread? I promise it tastes good.”
“Of course !” Elain exclaimed before turning to Azriel: “It smells good, doesn’t it Azriel?”
Instead of replying, Azriel turned around and walked back to his room. He was about to reach his door when he could faintly hear your voice: “I told you guys that he hates me. I’m so close to giving up and moving out. I’m clearly just a burden to him.”
Every part of Azriel’s body was telling Azriel to go back and comfort you. To tell you that you weren’t a burden to him and that he thinks about you every second of every day. Instead, he simply wandered back to his room like he always did.
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lookingformoondrop · 6 months
Note
OMG FINALLY SOMEONE WHO WRITES ABT THE COFFIN OF ANDY AND LEYLEY AAA
Honestly I'd take any writing about Andy LMFAO whatever you want to write, I'd just love to read something, be it headcanons or some short story <3
Absolutely! I was shocked when I tried finding content for TCOAAL, and there was none💀. For the sake of fluff Andy, the reader is the closest thing Andy has to a sister!
*Leyley doesn't exist*
P.S. Hopefully, this isn't OOC. This is also not proofread, so
I hope these meet your expectations <3
Andrew Graves x female best friend! Reader
TW: Everyone has a filthy mouth (swearing)... N/M = Nickname ♡
♡925 WORDS♡
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Ever since Andrew was a kid, he was treated more as his parent's friend than their kid.
This often meant that Andrew was forced to miss out on childish routines like throwing a tantrum, making a mess, having fun the loud way, and making mistakes, simply because "he was so easy."
If he were to add to his parents' load of problems, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, let alone sleep.
But that was all before he met you.
Every Friday, Mrs. Graves would give Andrew money to go on a snack run for the weekend.
But no matter what he did, no matter when or how he entered the grocery store, this little girl (no less than five) would terrorize Andrew.
"She's so annoying, mom! She always snatches the snacks I go for and then bolts for the next aisle. Then she just giggles and runs away with MY TOMATO SOUP."
Mrs. Graves sighed and turned around to face her son, "Andrew, just because a little five year old girl is taking some of the same snacks as you DOES NOT MEAN I am letting you shop at a different store! 'Shop Shop Shop and Shop, with more Shop' is the best for low-deals and prices. Please don't be difficult."
With no other choices, Andrew was forced to continue shopping.
Every week, she did the same thing. She'd sneak up behind him when he wasn't paying attention. She'd snatch the poor snack out of Andrew's hand and would bolt out of the aisle.
And everytime she did this, Andrew would grow angrier and angrier.
Finally, when the little girl stole the hundredth can of soup from his hand, Andrew turned around and grabbed the little girl's hair.
"AHH! Get off of me asshole!"
"You little shit! Give me that can back!"
They'd fight over the can of soup in the middle of the aisle for the next 10 minutes before the store owner kicked them out for "public disturbances."
Now, without his can of soup, sitting at the curb outside the store, with new bite marks along his arm, Andrew was more pissed than ever.
"What the hell is your problem? Do you just find malicious torment funny, you borderline psycho?"
Andrew turned towards the girl. She turned her smile towards Andrew, "Nah, just you."
Annoyed and exhausted, he put his face in his hands.
She thought for a moment , "No one plays with me, so I figured I should play with someone who looked as miserable as me."
Andrew looked at her through his fingers, "What about me screamed misery?"
She put a finger on her bottom lip, deep in thought, "You just have this face,"
Andrew scoffed at the girl, burying his face in his knees. She giggled.
"You just naturally look like an asshole"
"Watch your language, you fucking shit!"
Andrew went to grab the girls hair, "You dont even know my name, and yet you're calling me an asshole!? No wonder you dont have any friends."
She slapped Andrew's hand before it could reach her, "Well, what's your name?"
Andrew hesitated, "It's...Andrew Graves. What's yours?"
The little girl smiled, "Y/N L/N, your new best friend, Aaaaandy."
Andrew sat lazily with Y/N, laying on his lap. He cringed when he thought about their first meeting.
Of all the things they could've fought about, it was a can of soup... God, they're fucking stupid.
Since that day, Y/N would beg Andrew for attention and fun. She'd stalk him when he was out and about and would drag him away from any errands he was requested to run on.
"Leave me alone, N/M"
"Make me~"
"Please?"
"Lame. Now I have to come with you! With that bitch ass attitude you'll get beat up."
"Great."
And when Andrew accidentally reveal his address? Andrew was permanently stuck with Y/N.
Every Friday, she'd follow Andrew home, and even when Mr. and Mrs. Graves questioned the foul-mouth girl Andrew would never offer an explanation better than, "Some stray I picked up that won't let go. I have to keep her."
"Aaaaandyyy, can you change the channel? I don't want to lift my eyelids."
Andrew sighed, "The remote is right by your leg, dumbass"
"So?" She scoffed, "reach it for me."
"It's closer to you than it is to me!"
"Andy change the goddamn channel!"
"i'm not getting up just because your ass wants to be lazy!"
"ANDREW"
"Y/N"
Even if that meant pissing each other off with meanless schemes.
Despite their bickering that has made local pedestrians' ears bleed, they still were there for each other in everything.
"Whatever, you dumb bastard," Y/N mumbled to herself.
Andrew played with Y/N's hair as he stared at the mindless TV.
"Veronica Steveson asked me out to the date."
"Aw, poor hussy"
"Ouch, you think so lowly of me?"
"No, I just assumed you said no," Y/N continued to watch the TV.
"Why would I...?" Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Y/N sat up and stared at him with intense eyes.
"Do you like her?"
"W- Well no, but it's not like any other girls are crawling to date me"
Y/N scoffed at Andrew, flicking his forehead, "That's because you're stupid to notice."
She laid back down on his lap, and Andrew secretly smiled to himself. "So...who aren't I noticing?"
"Your mom."
"Y/N GROSS!"
And even if no one admitted it out loud, and even if you blushed one too many times around each other, you belonged with each other.
"But seriously, Andy, pass me the remote"
"Eat shit, N/M"
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Thank you for the ask <3
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thelov3lybookworm · 3 months
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Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?
My fault.
Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.
A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️
(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)
with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏
anyways, enjoy!
(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)
•○🌑○•
Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.
"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.
"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"
Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."
Y/n nodded absently.
They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.
It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.
Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.
When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"
"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."
Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.
"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"
Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"
"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"
Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."
It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-
That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.
Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.
She hated herself for it.
Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.
"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."
Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.
Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.
Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.
"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.
"Take care, Y/n."
Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."
•○🌑○•
Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.
Y/n came up lacking.
Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.
That he loved her.
She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.
She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.
The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.
That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.
"When will you stop being clumsy?"
He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.
"What?"
He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"
His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.
"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.
"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.
Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.
She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.
And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.
Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.
She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.
She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.
She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.
Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.
Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.
Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.
The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.
"Yes? How can I help you?"
Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.
"I- is Cassian here?"
The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"
Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."
Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"
"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.
A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."
Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.
"Can I have a word? In private?"
The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."
Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.
She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.
"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.
When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.
The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.
Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."
His brows furrowed. "Hi..."
She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"
He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."
His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."
She nodded. "I can tell."
Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.
"I- I can explain-"
Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."
He blinked again. "What? You... what?"
She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."
His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.
"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."
Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"
His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.
"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"
Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.
"Y/n-"
But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.
But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.
And he had tears in his eyes.
"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"
Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.
"Mates?" She whispered.
Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."
Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.
She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.
"Good night."
She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.
•○🌑○•
General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392
Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter
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bugsbia · 7 months
Text
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ʚ Campus asshole scara x fem reader
ʚ BEFORE READING: Fem reader, reader is just trying to get 5 minutes away from their annoying roomie. Take note of warnings.
ʚ WARNINGS: Use of drugs, implied laced weed, scara smokes a little, dub-con, shotgunning.
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Scaramouche has always been known for his ill temper among the students on campus, always having something mean to say and getting into trouble for doing shit he shouldn’t be doing. Today was no different as he found behind the campus dorms, sitting against the wall as he had a quick smoke despite knowing there was a no smoking on campus policy. When did he ever listen to authority though?
You found yourself behind the dorms as well, just looking for a short escape from your loud and annoying roommate who wouldn’t seem to leave you the hell alone. You grimaced upon seeing Scaramouche there too, but tried to ignore his presence as he simply sat against the wall as far from him as possible.
That wouldn’t stop him though, he made his way over to you, looking down at you as you sat there silently. “Don’t see people coming back here often unless they’re up-to no good, so what’s your deal?” He spoke, his tone coming off like a demand for answers rather than a question.
Waving the smoke from his cigarette out of your face “I’m just trying to get a break from my roommate, promise I won’t bother you or tell anyone I saw you.” You responded, hoping he’d just leave you alone if he knew you wouldn’t go snitching about his smoking.
“Sounds like shit” he said, followed by pause as he considered his words carefully. Kneeling down in front of you he spoke again, his words coming out almost silky smooth. A sign of his manipulative intent which you seemed to miss “can come to my dorm, I don’t have a roommate, and nobody will suspect you’re there.”
With a small sigh you hesitated, considering his offer, but it didn’t take long for you to agree. Staying in his dorm for a few would be way nicer than sitting on the dirty floor behind the dorms, so you nodded eagerly. Following close behind him as he led you to his dorm.
“You shouldn’t smoke in here” you said as you stepped into his dorm, taking off your shoes. You didn’t really care that he smoked exactly, but you also didn’t want to have to smell the smoke the entire time you were in his dorm.
He moved closer to you suddenly, taking the cigarette from his lips as grabbed your face between his index and thumb and forcing your mouth open as he leaned in. Forcing your mouth open while his lips were mere millimetres away from your own, exhaling the smoke into your mouth in a twisted display of attraction.
You breathed it in instinctively before taking a step back, coughing slightly. “Don’t be fucking weird” you exclaimed, watching as he smirked and put his cigarette out finally, taking another step closer to you.
“Calm down, it’s just a little smoke. You should loosen up a little.” that devilish smirk still upon his lips. “Maybe you should try getting high, calm those nerves of yours a little.” He said as he moved over to his bed, pulling out a small bag of pre-rolled joints and holding them up.
Stammering a bit you responded “you can’t have that shit on campus- what if they find out??”
“They won’t find out, unless you tell them. But you wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” His tone was sweet, sickeningly so but it made a swirl of emotions run wild within you. Were you seriously considering getting high with the campus asshole?
You were, you absolutely were. You didn’t know why, maybe it was the fact he was nice to despite being rude to everyone else, maybe it was because you just wanted to relax after having your roomie pester you all day. Either way you found yourself sitting beside him on his bed, passing a joint between the two of you, not seeming to consider the fact that he may have laced it.
As you breathed in the smoke you felt a slight burn in your chest, coughing slightly at the sensation, but also felt a great sense of relaxation wash over you finally for the first time today. “This feels nice” you said quietly, eyes glued to the ceiling as you enjoyed the tranquility. You didn’t seem to notice how he never actually smoked any, he just held the joint for a second before handing it back to you.
“Yeah? I could make things feel better.” He added as he sat up, looking down at you with a sly smirk as he slowly moved his hand to your hip, His fingers gently caressing you over your clothes.
He held your chin between his thumb and index as he leaned in, kissing your lips hungrily, like he just wanted to devour you. You didn’t care to try and fight back or stop him, you were in such a calm state that you couldn’t even care, so you kissed back.
That only emboldened him further as he trailed his hands up your shirt, caressing from your waist down to your hips. He just wanted you so bad, and he had you right in his grasp, so high that he could truly just have his way with you.
Quickly he snaked his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with ease without breaking the kiss. Next was your panties, which were also no problem for him. He quickly pulled them off and tossed them aside, landing somewhere on the floor in his messy room.
Finally he broke the kiss, moving to sit at the edge of the bed for a short moment as he took his own pants and boxers off. He was already so hard for you, he just couldn’t help but get excited when you were so easy to catch.
He quickly moved back to you, situating himself between your legs as he began rubbing his cock against your pussy. You grew wetter and wetter as he rubbed against you, small whimpers escaping your lips every time he brushed against your clit. He loved the sight, you beneath him, exposed and drugged out.
Pulling back slightly he angled his dick at your entrance and slowly pushed in, groaning at how good you felt, “Fuck” he breathed out “you’re so fucking tight”. After a short moment of letting your body adjust to his size he began moving, thrusting his cock deep into you before pulling out fully, just to slam himself back inside of you.
You couldn't help but moan out beneath him, his cock filling you so well, hitting the deepest parts of you which made you see stars. The drugs in your system only made it all the more better, making you more sensitive to his touch. The sounds of his groans and your moans echoed through the room, accompanied by the erotic sound of skin slapping together as he harshly pounded into you. He knew you could probably be heard through the walls, but that only made him more excited.
Suddenly he pulled out of you and grabbed you by your waist, pulling you to the edge of his bed and pushing your face down into the blankets as he entered your pussy again, fucking you hard and fast from behind.
He tangled his fingers into your hair tightly, pulling harshly as he leaned down and whispered darkly into your ear. "I wanna hear those pretty moans of yours". With that he snaked his hand down your stomach and to your pussy, beginning to rub quick circles around your clit.
You gasped at his touch as it sent waves of pleasure washing through your body, your legs going weak beneath you while you felt your orgasm growing close. He could tell how close you were by the way you moaned so desperately, and that sent him reeling.
His thrusts became faster and sloppy as his fingers moved faster, finally making the knot in your stomach snap as you came on his cock. Gummy walls spasming around his cock while you moaned out his name.
"fuck- yes!" he moaned as he too came, the combination of the way you moaned his name and the way your pussy felt twitching around his cock sent him over the edge. Releasing his warm cum deep inside your pussy as his grasp on your hair grew tighter.
Finally after a moment he pulled out, releasing the grip on your hair and giving you a moment to catch your breath, looking down at your weak form beneath him. Watching as his cum slowly leaked from your abused pussy he scooped it up with two fingers, then leaned over and shoved his fingers into your mouth.
He could spend all night watching you suck and choke on his fingers if he could.
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sp0o0kylights · 7 months
Text
Still working on the BB fic but have another snippet of that Stobin Timeloop AU. This can be read as stand-alone.
Steve Harrington snaps on a completely random Friday.
Well--not completely random. It's both the day of the Big Sportsball Game as well as Hellfire’s grand finale--but neither of those things should matter to Harrington.
Not that he needs a reason to lose his shit--Eddie’s long used to being threatened, insulted or outright attacked out of the blue. 
It’s the whole reason he built up the persona he had--because the scarier he was, the more people left him alone. 
Unfortunately it would appear that Hawkins fallen king hadn’t gotten the memo, given he seemed hellbent on kicking Eddie’s ass. 
"Come on Harrington, we can talk about this." Eddie says, as he’s shoved back, scrambling for a way out, as the former jock gets up in his face. 
The guy had called out his name the second he pulled into the parking lot (sans Buckley or any of the freshman they shared, which has Eddie's back up instantly) but Eddie had simply ignored him.
It was too early to deal with whatever had Harrington sounding like his ass was on fire.
Pity Steve had charged over instead, a look in his eyes that said whatever happened next was going to hurt.
Eddie carries a switchblade, but hes never had to use it before. 
Had instead made an entire production about having it, including cleaning his nails with the blade or stabbing it into the cheap wood desks when a teacher stepped out of the room. 
Had shouted that he’d pull it even when Harrington had charged him, but the guy didn't even blink.
Thus forcing Eddie to confront the fact that he really doesn’t want to stab someone.
Particularly not someone whose family has the police in their pockets (or did with Chief Hopper, though Eddie doesn’t doubt that the Harrington Hoard won’t immediately grab onto the next pig to get promoted.) 
His panic leaves him flailing but somehow, (and unfairly Eddie may add) Steve seems to expect this. 
Knows how to navigate it.
Eddie's back hits the metal of the van and he winces, expecting the hit, the pain. 
If he can duck, if he can make it so the first punch only grazes him, he can grab his fucking knife and wave it around, see if that gets the asshole off him, except--
Instead of hitting him, Steve reaches past, to yank one of the van’s passenger doors open. 
Herds Eddie inside, slamming the door behind him before snatching a fistful of Eddie's shirt and hauling him forward. 
"What--" Eddie asked, confused, right before Steve smashes their lips together. 
It's a hard kiss, practically a claim. 
Steve kisses him like a drowning man gasps for air and Eddie can only fall into it, stunned. 
(The stunned portion only lasts long enough for Eddie to blink before he's kissing back, hot and heavy.
He's been horny for Harrington since the asshole did a trick shot that showed off his ass and involved flipping Hagan off at the same time, sue him.) 
Thinks as he does, that this is probably a trap.
That even if it isn't, then whatever it is Steve will make him regret it--even if he started it. 
(Not like Eddie can claim he wasn’t enjoying it, either. He’s giving as good as he gets, dick quickly overwhelming any rational thought in his brain. 
He clings to Steve like a lifeline, gasping when the jocks takes his bottom lip between his teeth and lightly drags it out, begging to be let into Eddie's mouth. 
This isn't reality.
 Cannot be reality, must be the start of a wet dream or some…vivid hallucinations because when Eddie grinds himself upwards into Steve, cock chasing friction, Steve presses back.) 
"Fuck." Eddie moans when Steve finally releases him, panting up at the ceiling. 
"Do I have your attention now?" Steve asks, voice raspy and Eddie finds himself able to die happy, because that tone is downright possessive. 
"Yeah big boy, you have me--it." Eddie corrects himself fast, the words practically blending together. 
Steve gives a strangled sort of laugh at that, and instead of getting up, presses his face down onto Munsons shoulder. 
Eddie expects him to spring up at any moment. Declare insanity maybe, or far more likely threaten him about telling anybody.
If past bar hookups were an indicator, he'd  throw a few slurs in for good measure. 
(And those men had been at a gay bar, not Hawkins high school parking lot.) 
It's nothing Eddie can't handle, but Steve…isn't doing any of them.
Instead his breathings gone weird, body trembling--and Eddie can see how Steve is holding himself up.
Like he's worried about Eddie taking his weight.
Slowly, carefully, he raises a hand to the back of Steve's hair.
He presses in slow, waiting to be yelled at, waiting to be rejected but never is. 
"You can lay on me, Harrington, I won't break." Eddie tells him and knows his voice is too sweet when he says it.
Too lovey dovey, too awed. 
Too late, for him to recover into a normal voice but fuck it. Not like Eddie was known for making smart decisions. 
Nothing could have prepared him from the wounded noise Steve makes in return. 
"Hey--hey." Eddie says, in rising panic. "I've got you." 
"I know." Steve raises, and head coming up at last, cheeks red and tear stained but his eyes are clear.
Clear and fucking haunted.
 "I know you do, Eds, but we don't have time. Which is why I need you to listen to me, because I'm not the Steve Harrington you know."  
Utterly reeling from being called "Eds" it takes Eddie a moment to digest what was just said. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Steve sighs, a blast of frustration, and Eddie finds himself automatically scritching at Steve's head. 
For some reason that seems to help. 
"Your D&D finale’s tonight, right?" 
"Yes." Eddie says slowly, his mind spinning uselessly, every coherent thought derailed by something new. The moles on Steve's neck. The way he shifts, how his leg is tangling with Eddie's, awkwardly because it's cramped as shit back here. 
"I'm way past this. I've lived this. More than once." 
Aha. 
So it's a mental breakdown Steve's having. 
"I'm still waiting for you to make sense, Harrington." Eddie says to buy himself time to think. 
"Steve." The younger man corrects and he's holding Eddie's gaze. "And I'm not making sense because saying it sounds stupid." 
Eddie can't help the little derisive laugh that breaks out of him. "I hear a lot of stupid things, one more won't kill me." 
"I know, you're famous for your rants about them." Steve snarks back, but it's teasing. 
Friendly and familiar, like he's used to bantering. 
Not just that, but bantering with Eddie, specifically.
He doesn't know what to do with that, so he tugs a little on Harrington's too perfect hair. 
Demands an explanation with that little jolt--and somehow, Steve doesn't haul off and punch him for it. Instead a shudder rollers through him, eyes closing just a touch and--Oh.
Oh, Harri-Steve, likes it.
"I'm from the future." Steve says, which does indeed sound stupid. 
Eddie blinks. "What?" 
"Robin and I are stuck in a time loop-- we keep living this week over and over." He continues, only now he's leaning his head against Eddie's arm. 
"Every single time, you take the longest to get on board and buy in, and every single time I fail to get everyone out alive so fuck it. Fuck all of it--I'm speedrunning this part." 
Oh this is beyond breakdown. 
This is 'took something he shouldn't have and then some' and Eddie knows how to trip sit. 
He just…doesn't want to get punched for being the first person Steve released his repressed homosexual urges out on, drugged or not. 
(The fact Steve's still letting Eddie pet him like a cat absolutely does not have anything to do with it, no sir.)
because his mouth bypasses his rational mind most days and today is no exception. 
"Okay." Eddie says. "Let's say you are from the future and not shot up with what I'm assuming you were told was steroids and was very much not."
 Steve rolls his eyes. 
He never bothered to dry his cheeks and Eddie does it now for him, with the hand that's not in Steve's hair.
Steve leans into it, which somehow feels like the craziest part of it all.
"Prove to me that you're from the future." Eddie challenges.
"Oh the kissing wasn't enough? Fine." Steve bitches, before rattling off facts like he's blowing through answers on Jeopardy. 
"You call your guitar sweetheart and apologize for cheating on it anytime you use your other guitar, who is named Arwin. Your favorite mug in Wayne's collection is the Garfield one and you can play Master of Puppets by heart even though the album came out last month."
"And this is coming from the future and not one of the freshmen we somehow share custody over…?"  Eddie says, even while alarm shoots down his spine.
Had he told the kids about his Garfield mug? 
That his acoustic was named Arwin…?
He suddenly couldn't recall but that made the most sense. Had to make sense.
Steve huffs, annoyed.
Its very cute, and Eddie bites his own lip hard to keep himself focused. 
A finger dips under Eddie's collar, wrapping gently around the chain that sits there before he can react.
 "This," Steve emphasizes with a gentle tug, "was your mom's. She gave it to you the morning of the accident." 
Eddie's world stops.
Not the same way it stopped when Steve kissed him, it stopped in a way they felt like ice had been dumped over his head. A flash freeze that squeezed his chest, claws digging into his exposed heart.
The only person who knew about the pick was Wayne. 
No one else, not even his band, his closest friends, knew the origin of it. 
To tell someone that, to say it was not only his mothers but that shed given it to him the morning before some drunk asshole t boned her shitty, shitty car and killed her-- was akin to handing over step by step instructions on how to hurt him. 
Eddie would go to the ends of the earth for that pick, and he had never let anyone know just how important it was to him.
Except Steve Harrington, apparently. 
"Okay." Eddie says, "Okay, you're from the future. You said--" He pauses, swallows. 
Fights down his disbelief even as the dots connect, because why else would he tell anyone about his pick? 
The only reason he can possibly conjure is if he needed someone to give it back to Wayne, because he, for whatever reason, couldn't.
 "You said you're reliving this because you can't get everyone out alive?" Eddie managed to get out, grappling with the knowledge that "everyone" included him. 
"Yeah." 
 "Are you also my boyfriend or something?" 
"If we can make it there, then yes." Steve says, slightly hysterical. "And really? You're finally gonna believe me?" 
"Are you arguing here for me to believe you or not, Steve, you're giving conflicting signals--" 
"No it's--you've fought me on this man. I've tried every method of getting you with us and every time you argue until the bats show up but one kiss and you're all for it?" 
"Give yourself some credit, it was a grand slam of a kiss.” Eddie replies, because it was by far and large the best kiss of his life. 
He’d follow Steve to hell and back if more kisses like that were on the table, mental breakdown or no. 
Steve snorts at him, a half-hysterical sound. “Noted.” He says. 
Then; “You believe me though?”
“Not at all!” Eddie chirps with a wobbly grin that betrays him.  “But on the off chance you’re right the uh…the thing about my pick…” He trails off self consciously. 
“I should have guessed that was what it. You only ever tell me that when you’re dying.” Steve fills in for him, and it’s weird, to know that for two seconds Steve Harrington apparently read his face and correctly guessed what he was thinking about. 
Abruptly decides he doesn’t want to think of his impending doom any longer. 
“So how about we skip the dying part and focus on the boyfriend part?” He says, poking at Steve’s cheek. 
Steve makes a face at him, before grabbing a his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 
“We gotta fix this mess first, Munson.” He tells him gently, looking up at him through his lashes and oh, that is a look Eddie will keep for the rest of his life. 
“Lead on, lassie.” Eddie tells him to hide how dazed he feels. “Let’s go save the world and shit.” 
With one final kiss to the palm of Eddie’s hand, Steve does. 
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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months
Text
Cabin in the woods (yandere!shasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yandere!slasher!Horangi) chapter 5
Your friend is being tortured. Unfortunately for you, Konig and Horangi aren't exactly satisfied with just his misery.
WARNINGS: Blood, dub-con bordering on non-con, general slasher-y, mild knife stabbing
Masterlist with all chapters This on AO3
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— Alright, kitten, let’s try this again. The knife goes inside, the guts go outside. What is there to mess up?
— Don’t…don’t call me that. — How should I call you then? Future victim? — No? Please? 
— I’m old and I’ve seen all this shit before, kitten. Let me call you what I like and maybe, I won’t prolong his death too much. Or yours, for that matter. The shorter guy pushes the knight into your hands, making you press the blade against Max’s stomach. You refuse – as much as you can, with your trembling hands and desire to survive, no matter what. Max is frozen in the chair, tied up as securely as possible without cutting the circulation in his hands – the bigger psycho told you something about letting the blood flow freely, so your first killing experience would be more fun. 
Fun – the fuck was he thinking? 
Max is fixated in one place and you are holding the knife – well, to be quite certain, Horangi wrapped his hands around yours, making sure that you won’t try to wrestle the knife out of his hold and aim it at them. He makes you push the blade deeper, and scrap Max’s skin – his clothes were torn by the taller killer, another sentiment of his raw strength. You feel tears collecting in your eyes – you feel dread in every inch of your skin, walling in the endless possibilities of manslaughter. 
You feel the interest picking up at the level of your groin. You try to tell yourself that this is just adrenaline, a natural reaction, the big guy was basically fondling your pussy and trying to get you as aroused as possible before he got distracted by his partner – it’s only normal that your walls are clenching around nothing, that you are trying to think about different things and failing miserably. You don’t feel excited about killing your friend because it is simply impossible – even when said friend is as fucking horrible as one person can be. Even when this friend crosses the academic rivalry and dives deeper into the river of being a fucking asshole Even when…
— Her hands are trembling. Cute. 
— Kitten’s first murder? 
— Should have left the slut for her. Would be a nice cat fight. 
— Don’t think she knows how to fight, She doesn’t even try to get the knife, Ko. 
You writhe in his hold, trying to resist his firm, strong hands pressing on yours – but you both know that you are merely pretending, that you just need to try something so you won’t feel as fucking horrible about not doing anything to save your friend. You say to yourself that this is simply self-preservation. You can’t resist your captors, you don’t want to die a horrible, painful death – which is why you are so ready to inflict that on Max. You’d pray for his forgiveness in hell, but you both know that he spends most of his time on r/Atheism. 
Killers just love to speak like you are not even here – and you would love to not be here, you’d pay literally anything to just run away as far as possible, to not have them after you. You tried to run already, tried to resist – tried everything you could, and yet, it was impossible. No matter how much you try, they are always a step ahead of you – sometimes even literally, when they both are pushing you between them like you are merely a toy for their amusement. Perhaps, in some twisted way, you are. They speak over you, against you, and you hate the little nicknames they are giving you – treating you like a pet even though you do not know them, and they only know you for barely a few hours. 
This is probably something about you, making you a perfect victim. You always thought that your adaptiveness was just a signal of people pleasing and a horrible lack of spine – but it saving you now, keeping you interesting enough for the maniacs. You’d pay anything not to be their favorite, but you already know how they treat those who are of no use to them. And you’re fucking scared of dying. 
— You need to press deeper if you want to hurt him, Schatzen. 
It’s a good thing that they gagged Max’s mouth. You don’t know why, it seems like too much mercy for someone like them, but at least you won’t have to hear him screaming – especially when König envelops your hands on top of the hands of his partner, pressing it against your friend’s soft gut. 
You never knew that human flesh is so…vulnerable. You don’t even need any strength, they are doing all the job for you. you are the one holding the knife but you find a small mercy in thinking of your impact as just this – being a knife. An instrument. Instruments don’t have free will, you can’t blame a gun for killing a person – blame the one who fired it. You didn’t gut your friend, you were just doing what a good object is supposed to. 
God, you feel awful. 
— I don’t…please, don’t make me do this, please…
You whimper, pathetically – König can barely contain his erection. God, you’re simply fucking perfect like this, hands already covered in blood splurging from the small cut you made on this guy's stomach. In a rite of passion, König moved one of his hands to rip the gag off his mouth, listening to the beautiful squeals the guy was making. All of these pig-like screaming got him wanting a nice, hot Schnitzel. He licks his lips, tilting his head to look at the screaming man. 
— Screams like a pig. 
— More like a whaling dog. 
— Cut him again, ja? Deeper, or you’ll be sitting next to him. 
König knows that he won’t do it. You might be a weird addition to their little duo, but they both knew that they wanted someone, a pet for them to share – not because of some weird kinks, although it’s part of the reason, mostly out of a desire to be dominant to someone helpless, someone pathetic and weak. Someone who is so fragile would need constant protection, and constant putting in their place. Horangi’s savior syndrome and König’s control freakiness coming from his days as colonel made them…unstable, a bit. 
Until they found little ol’ you. 
— What the fuck are you doing?! Max can finally scream – and he screams at you, not the killers. You cry and shake, trying not to fall unconscious because of the tension and here he is, making sure that you feel as horrible as he is – mentally, for now. The pit in your stomach grows deeper with every squeal, you want to shut your ears and scream until your throat is sore, you want to push the knife away and hide somewhere. The hands are holding you in place and you can barely move. 
You plead – you want to take Max’s place, you hate being the object of their affection, your hands are trembling and your body is barely moving. Your head is still pounding and you feel like you’re going to fucking die because you can’t even breathe and you panic and…
— Hey, Calm down, ja? You don’t want to do this? 
König is surprisingly gentle when you sob, hands shaking uncontrollably. He pushes Max to the ground, poor guy is falling down, still tied up to a chair, probably hitting his head on the cold basement floor – Horangi pushes him even deeper with a kick on the ribs and you hear the sobs, so uncharacteristic for a smartass like Max. You don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be here, you don’t want to-
— Please, d…don’t…
König gently puts your face in his hands, holds you as softly as someone like him can.
Then a hand lays on the curve of your ass – a harsh, rough spank that made your skin burn even through the jeans. You yelp, tears flowing freely down your face – König laughs, putting you in your place like a fucking unruly animal. The betrayal of the previous softness makes you cry. 
— It’s okay, Schatzen. 
You refuse to look when the knife goes inside Max’s stomach. You refuse to look even when the second guy twists your face in his hold and makes you open your eyes. Blood, nothing but it – it stains his clothes, your clothes, it makes you want to ouke and you fall to your knees because this is not happening, it could not be happening, your hands are clean and perfect, they would never be able to kill a living, breathing being – this isn’t something that you would do, ever. This isn’t something that…
— Thought she’d be calmer by now. 
— She is a bit skittish. Might have to lock her in the basement. 
— And getting rid of all the thrill. 
— Didn’t you want to elevate us to the next level? 
— I was talking about adoption, Ko. Maybe getting a freaking puppy, for starters. 
— She’s the second best thing. 
König’s hand goes to scrub your neck and you exhale loudly, still terrified of him. Poor, naive girl, just how scared you are of them – it’s funny, really, ridiculous even. They could have killed you any second now, so, if they aren’t doing it, you must be calmer now, no? Your reactions are adorable, but he starts to think that he won’t be able to make you choke on his cock like this. Scared animals tend to show their teeth and, well, he still wants his dick to be with him. 
Maybe with a gag…
He pushes a finger in your mouth – to his and your surprise, you don’t even bite him out of instinct. You wince, but don’t refuse – just look at him like a caged animal. He liked that look on you, made you all nice and submissive just for him and Horangi. God, it was so long since they were with someone so soft, so…weak. He counts your teeth – might need to pull something out, a trophy for him. Tugs at your tongue and you immediately started to suck on his fingertip – a welcoming intrusion. He didn’t intend anything like this, just wanted to check your biting reflex, but if you are welcoming…
Hong-jin catches the look on your face and the expression that can be so easily read on König’s face. You’re both adorable, his perfect fucking partners – or a partner and his victim, to be quite right.  He swiftly helps König undo his pants, knowing how tricky those cargo and multiple belts can be – everything to not let their prey get an advantage over them in any way. Getting sloppy seconds sucks, but the bigger killer would make you nice and warm for them, broken in exactly right. 
Besides, even if you would bite off a few inches of König’s cock, it wouldn’t do much difference. The man would still be a fucking stallion. 
You start to panic when Max isn’t even dead yet, and the killers are pushing their pants down, making you work your mouth on the enormous bulge in König’s briefs. You wince, closing your eyes and pretending that you are not here, that this isn’t happening, and you’re stuck in your happy place, actually, forever and ever, and…you want to cry and whimper, and you do – you can feel blood slowly coating the floor. 
You lapping your mouth on the underwear of a serial killer while your friend is slowly bleeding from a deep cut on his stomach. You smell the usual things, that you are accustomed to already – sweat, blood, metal. The same knife that cut Max is pressing against your neck right now, urging you not to bite on the killer’s cock. You are worried more about vomiting all over his legs – but you don’t want to get your neck scrapped too. You gulp, seeing the outline of a huge, enormously thick cock poking out of the top of a simple black briefs. There is…there is no way it would fit – your mouth can only open so far, you are not a fucking snake, you are…
Horangi pushes his boot to your clothed cunt. Presses deep, the narrow part is strangely hot between your legs. Jeans and panties are securing your dignity for now, not allowing the full strength of those feelings to rise, but you were already aroused before and the new pressure is only making it worse now. You open your mouth – maybe in shock, maybe in a feeble attempt to make them stop – and König pushes the head of his cock right in. 
Your throat is welcoming him. Tight and warm around his shaft, he can only push further and further, making it impossible for you to close your teeth enough to bite. He can feel the stretch of your jaw, how perfect the bulge in your throat looks for him – he can think of a few new ways of making your body bulge both from him and Horangi. It was quite a while since they had a partner to try double penetration with. 
When you choke on the dick penetrating your mouth, Horangi can only chuckle, pushing his boot even deeper against your pussy. He can feel the wetness of your intimate parts, even through the jeans – you’re a dirty thing, getting off their touches while your friend bleeds to death. If he wasn’t so unsure that those pricks don’t have any STDs to give you, he’d use Max’s blood as a lube. Maybe make you lick it as you did with his knife. Maybe he’s…shit, all of these lewd thoughts make him want to fuck you right now – and he is certain that a dick in your cunt, no matter how wet and slutty it is, will break you right now. Fuckin’ civvies and their fragile brains. 
— Where we would dump his body after it’s done? 
Horangi can speak normally, for now. His dick is throbbing painfully in his pants, but he knows that at least one of them should remain calm and think with their upper head unless they want you to get away with your little friend. You are surprisingly resilient for prey – albeit a bit dumb, like all normal people are when the situation turns into a life-and-death one. His boot isn’t soft on your folds, the rough fabric of your jeans only making it worse - you still squirm and moan, crying on König’s dick and sending delicious vibrations down your throat. 
— C…can feed him to the river. 
König is breathing heavily, his hand goes to grab your hair and make you take his dick whole. He doesn’t really care if you are choking – giving you the opportunity to breathe through your nose should be nice already. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s still better than getting killed – you suck as enthusiastically as possible, just so you won’t make them too mad at you. Just so the feeling of heavy dick in your mouth would push away every other thought – about Max, for example. 
The guy is still bleeding on the chair right next to you – but every last bit of your brain, still remaining in your head, is getting pushed to the very back by König’s dick and Horangi’s boot. 
You whimper when the pressure on your pussy grows faster. You don’t want to cum, you can’t cum like this – fully clothed, covered in blood and scratches, on the boot of your tormentor. You don’t want this to be pleasurable, but it’s better than having them rape you raw – you try to say that your reaction is normal, you’re just adapting, you don’t actually get off your helplessness and the feeling of complete loss of power and responsibility, but you know that, deep down, it’s all bullshit. 
You like sucking him off – you’re wet enough from the lack of oxygen alone, not speaking about anything else. You like being on your knees, supported by a boot rooting in your cunt – and you also adore the fact that you don’t have to do anything. König is content with slamming his dick in your welcoming mouth without calling you a passive bitch with zero skills, and Horangi seemingly gets off just making sure you’re as aroused as possible. In a different circumstance, you’d beg them for more. 
In this situation, however, you just try to block out the bleeding guts of your friend less than a meter away from you. 
— We have to keep her, Tigeren. 
— What if she’d run away? 
— I can cut off her legs…Scheisse, she just got tighter from this. Good job, Katzen. 
— We can keep her in the basement, but she needs regular walks. 
— I will walk her. 
— With sawed legs? 
— I can hold her in my arms. 
— We still need to take care of her friends first. 
They both humm in acknowledgment, Horangi almost stopped pursuing your tenderness – only to slam harder, getting on his knees to take off your jeans completely. You shiver in the cold air, feeling the torn fabric falling down your legs. Of course, just taking your pants off normally wouldn’t be enough – he needed to rip them off, breaking the boundary between a fashionable and unrepairable. 
You whimper – the soft, thin fabric of your simple panties isn’t nearly enough to stop your puffy cunt from being wet. The white fabric is almost transparent from your juices, it’s pathetically easy for Horangi to make you squeal on his boot. He presses and rolls the rounded end down your panties and up your cunt, making you cry from the sensation. Your little whines only make the experience better for König – who already got his hand on the back of your head and slammed all length inside, making sure that your jaw would fucking hurt. 
You choke when he suddenly slams into your throat with full force – not allowing you to just hold his dick in your lips like you did before. You choke even more as his cum fills your throat. You don’t have to taste it, thankfully, your tongue laying flat under his dick. You can almost expel yourself from the situation, pretending that it’s your favorite movie characters or videogame heroes. 
You can try to pretend that you are not cumming from your pussy being folded by the killer’s boot. 
— Did you cum? Good girl. 
— College girls became sluttier since I was in college, ja? 
— I doubt you were in college, Ko. 
You hear their banter and can see the bigger man showing the other one on the shoulder. You don’t react, frozen in place, on your knees. Your naked legs are scraping on the floor, which is definitely filled with corpses and some nasty vermin – you can’t force yourself to care about it right now. You can barely fucking thing, just wanting everything to end so you could go to sleep happily. So you could close your eyes and never fucking open them again. 
You are being ushed to the air by your hands – like a cat, the one from insanely long memes. You whimper, thinking that killers probably have half a mind of just fucking ending your life once and for all – you gave them everything they needed, and now your helpless figure, coughing down the cum coating your throat, is probably of no use to them.
You can try to save your life. Really, you can – maybe they won’t listen to you but maybe, if they didn’t kill you yet, they can consider just…letting you go. Maybe these predators are getting sated on just Max’s body. Maybe you can still try to run away. 
— I…I don’t know who you are. If I just go, I won’t even be able to tell the police anything. 
— You’re implying we let you go because you don’t know who are we? 
— I won’t tell anyone. I don’t even know German! 
They laugh. The worst possible reaction – you feel blood drained from your body. God, are…are they going to murder you because of this little stunt? The bigger guy goes to you, cupping your face in his hand. 
The other one goes under his mask. 
— Hans, callsign “König”. Colonel for mercenary company, if that’s not enough. 
You couldn’t even close your eyes before you saw him fully – ginger hair, uneven stubble. Face, covered in scars. You want to say that this is the face of a killer, you know this is the face of a killer – the handsome one. The pretty one. Not in the way that boyband singers are pretty, not cute – but you can’t deny that putting a face to your tormentor figure made your already soaked cunt even more wet. 
— Hong-jin, callsign “Horangi”. Still think we’re going to let you go? 
They are handsome – both of them. Without masks, their voices are unfiltered, pure. You see a handsome Asian man with a face covered in scars and burn masks, and his partner, covered in the same fashion. You knew they must be from the military, judging by the uniform and mannerisms – but you never knew they would be this…
You begged them to let you go, saying that you won’t tell anybody about them. You both know that you are not getting out of this forest alive, knowing their names and how they look like – you won’t even be able to pull out a “Hush” move and just text everyone who are they – no cell service and no family to try and search for you in rural Austria. 
You collapse to the floor when König gently pushes your face up, smothering your lips with a kiss. 
You are not getting out of this forest. 
675 notes · View notes
rileyslibrary · 1 year
Note
hello! absolutely love your blog <3!! just thought i could share since idk who else to dump my ghost infested brain.. but lately i’ve been brainrotting for fluffy and domestic ghost hh something about helping him shave in the morning before cooking breakfast together and just lazing around in the afternoon drives me insane
Lazy Sunday with Simon
A/N: I got this ask before I decided to turn off the anon option for a while! I’ll let you know when I turn it back on :) There’s more A/N at the end; meet me there!
———————————————————————
He usually wakes up at 6 a.m., regardless of the day of the week. You’ve always marvelled at this trait, secretly envious of his ability to jump out of bed immediately. You wonder if he’s a morning person by nature or if his past military training instilled this reflex. Regardless, you rarely wake up at the same time. And on the rare occasion that you do so, he’s eager to get up as soon as possible, as though laying in bed simply served his survival needs for sleep and nothing else.
But today is different. It’s almost 9 a.m., and you sit on your shared bed, watching him sleep. His chest rises and falls, and you mimic his breath, momentarily experiencing life from his perspective.
As you shuffle to retrieve something from your bedside drawer, he stirs and wakes up.
“Shit!” He curses, shooting up like a spring.
“Simon,” you say to him, your hand halfway to the drawer, “it’s Sunday.”
He checks his phone to confirm your statement, then sighs. Rubbing his eyes, he turns to look at you.
“Good morning,” he says sheepishly.
“Morning,” you respond with a chuckle.
He crawls over to your side of the bed and kisses your lips.
“You, sir, need a shave,” you tease, gesturing to his stubble.
He rubs his chin. “I do, don’t I?” he admits, rising from the bed and heading to the bathroom.
You hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the faucet running, and teeth brushing, followed by a silence that makes you tune in. You can listen to him unscrewing the cap of his shaving cream, whistling as he applies it to his face.
You rise from the bed and enter the bathroom. Simon catches your eye in the mirror’s reflection and raises an eyebrow.
“This room ain’t big enough for the both of us,” he quips, mimicking Nick Grindell from The Western Code.
You smile and press against his back, wrapping your arms around him. “Looks like there’s enough room now,” you say playfully.
He resumes shaving, and you watch him closely; tiny strokes with the razor, then a rinse and repeat.
“Can I try?” you ask, and he stops mid-stroke to look at you.
“I don’t know, can you?” he teases.
“I’ve shaved my legs before,” you reply.
“Exactly,” he emphasizes, “your legs, not my face.” But he hands you the razor anyway and instructs you on how to proceed.
You seem to be doing fine until he suddenly jerks back from the razor and lets out a yell. You panic, but he quickly bursts out laughing.
“Asshole!” you exclaim. “I thought I cut you!”
“That was the point, love,” he chuckles. “You should have seen your face.”
“And you should have seen your face if I had actually cut you!” you quip, brandishing the razor in mock threat.
No matter how long you two live together, he remains his old, caustic self. He is kind and gentle, except when pulling one of his “jokes.” You’ve had to learn to adapt to his sense of humour.
You announce that you’d go to the kitchen to get breakfast started while he keeps on shaving, and he gives you a thumbs up.
———————————————————————
As the kettle on the stove begins to whistle, you deftly mix the pancake batter. He approaches you and stands beside you, watching you whisk.
“You shouldn’t be doing that,” he comments, gesturing towards the bowl.
“Whisking batter?” you question, eyebrows raised.
“You shouldn’t be doing pancakes in general,” he elaborates, lifting his shirt to reveal a hint of a soft belly. “Look.” He says and gives it a slap.
He has put on some weight after leaving the army, but this didn’t bother you as much as it bothered him. The weight gain was not the real issue but rather a manifestation of how he felt - insignificant. He didn’t talk about it directly, but it showed up in other ways. Mumbling to himself while watching the news, for example, reciting what his team would have done differently in that case. Or by reflecting on how he could have helped in recent disasters while discussing with your friends. In this case, it manifested in the form of fishing for compliments.
“You look fine.” You comment, but he rolls his eyes.
“No, I don’t,” he says, “stop lying.”
“Hey,” you wave the whisk at his face, “I never lie, ok?”
He shoots his arms in the air. “First the razor, now the whisk,” he says, “you’re too aggressive today, don’t you think?”
“I like you, no matter what. Understood?” You keep threatening him, and, with a manoeuvre, he takes the whisk off your hands to continue the mixing.
You prepare the table, and he serves the pancakes he cooked. You both sit down at the table, enjoying your breakfast. As you eat, your mind keeps going back to your previous conversation.
“Hey, I was thinking,” you say between bites. “There’s a veterans’ group in town that meets every week. Maybe you could check it out?”
He looks up from his plate and then shakes his head. “No,” he states.
“Why not?” You ask, “it could be good for you to connect with other veterans and share your experiences rather than arguing with the TV.”
He keeps staring at you, and you’re unsure if he feels exposed or contemplates your idea.
“There are other people like you, Simon,” you explain, “good people who went through similar things.”
He shrugs and takes another bite. “What do they do in that group?” He asks.
“I don’t know,” you reply, “but I can find out if you want.”
“No,” he shakes his head, “I’ll do that.”
You smile. “That’s great,” you say, relieved, “I think it could really help you.”
He nods and takes another bite. The two of you continue eating and talking, enjoying the simple pleasure of a warm, late breakfast.
———————————————————————
You both lay sprawled on your living room couch. You’re glued to the TV, binging on the new season of “Love is Blind,” while he lies next to you, engrossed in a book.
You notice his eyes flickering towards the screen occasionally, but he tries to hide it. You catch him peeking again and can’t resist poking fun at him.
“Interested, I see?” You ask with a smirk.
“What the fuck is that?” he asks you back with a sneer.
“It’s a reality show,” you explain, gesturing towards the screen. “People date each other in these rooms called ‘pods’ without seeing each other.”
“Huh,” Simon scoffs, “and how do they meet?”
“One proposes, and if the other accepts, they finally meet.”
He puts down his book, stares at the screen, and then back at you.
“Like a marriage proposal?” He asks with raised eyebrows, and you nod.
“You’re kidding,” he states in disbelief.
“No,” you shake your head, giggling, “I’m afraid I’m not.”
He opens up his book again and shakes his head. “What a load of bullshit,” he grumbles.
But as the episodes keep rolling, you can see his resistance slowly crumbling. His book is closed for good now and placed on the side table next to him. “What a load of bullshit” has now turned into “what a fucking nob head!” and “can you believe them?!”
And as the day turns into dusk and the marathon draws ungracefully to an end, he waves his finger at the TV.
“Put the next episode!” he orders.
“It’s not aired yet.”
Simon’s face contorts into a look of pure shock and horror, and you stifle a laugh.
“You can’t be serious, love!” he yells. “When are the next ones supposed to be aired?”
“In two weeks, Si-”
“TWO WEEKS?” he exclaims in a high-pitched voice. “What are we supposed to do for two weeks?!”
“There are three more seasons before this o- “
“Now!” He commands, slapping the cushion with enthusiasm. “Put. The first. Season. Now!”
———————————————————————
Hey, sweet person who requested this and fellow readers! 🍫 Hope you enjoyed it! Maybe I got Simon a little out of character with the “Love Is Blind” scene, but I saw a similar TikTok/IG Reel (I can’t remember where exactly) and instantly thought of him. So I wanted to include it! Also, my stupid ass kept writing “whisker” instead of “whisk” until I thought to google it. Glad I did.
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Hi!! Could you write jealous!steve and childhood best friend!reader for the blurb week. nothing else specific I know whatever you come up with I’ll love
18+
“Are— are you being serious?” You stared at the boy, wide eyed, face a little warm and when Steve simply stared back, you felt your heart stutter. “You are serious.”
————
You’d been in Steve’s bedroom for an hour or so now, unexpectedly so, after a date went to shit. You hadn’t even knocked on the boy’s front door, just walking in and toeing off your shoes in the hall, barrelling into his bedroom mid rant about how men were awful and what was the point in dating?
Steve had handed you a beer, let you steal the pillow you liked from his bed to curl your arms around and he’d listened - surprisingly quiet - as you spoke about Brad, his lack of chivalry, and what kinda guy asks for another girl's number when he’s on a date?
“He’s an asshole,” Steve eventually grumbled. “More than an asshole, actually. Fucking idiot shouldn’t have even gotten a chance with you anyway.”
You’d snorted, self conscious, smiling anyway as you shoved a foot softly to Steve’s thigh. A silent thanks, one he accepted when he flicked at your toes.
“It’s whatever,” you’d said, shrugging. “S’not much of a loss. He couldn’t even make me come, you know?”
Steve choked on his beer, but to his credit, he recovered quickly, swiping at his mouth while he eyed you carefully. He seemed to straighten up a little, brow knitted together when he asked. “I didn’t know you’d… slept with him.”
“Didn’t think you’d be interested in that kinda chat, Harrington,” you had smiled softly, staring at your best friend with more fondness than you should’ve. You felt too warm - you didn’t talk about sex with Steve for a reason. “You wanna know about my sex life?”
Steve had went pink in the cheeks, but he kept his voice steady when he had said: “you normally tell me everything, princess, c’mon now.”
Not everything.
You’d shrugged again, nursing the half full beer bottle between your hands as you started to pick at the label. “Not that much to tell, to be honest. We didn’t even sleep together, just— you know— fooled around a few times. Back of the car kinda stuff.”
Steve’s eyes had flashed with something you couldn’t work out and his jaw tensed before he spoke again. “And he didn’t get you off? Not once?”
You had taken a drag of the beer and shook your head. “Seemed like it was too much effort for him.” You squinted at Steve, half embarrassed, half sardonic. “Maybe I took too long.”
Steve scoffed, looking a little wild eyed, gaze roaming over you, fingers curling around his own beer and he seemed like he couldn’t quite stay still. He’d swallowed hard, throat bobbing and then—
“I could make you come, princess.”
————
“You are serious.” You stated it with awe tinting your voice.
Why not?” Steve asked, setting down his bottle, the amber liquid still swirling around in it. “You’re not the problem, you know that, right? This Brad guy, he’s selfish.” Steve sucked in a breath, gaze heavy on you, more so than you’d ever seen before. “Dude should be lucky that he was allowed to get his hands on you.”
There was something too hot about the way he spoke, your best friend staring at you through hooded eyes, pupils blown wide with the thoughts he was having, head tilted back as he leant against his bedroom wall, jaw tensed and neck taught.
You exhaled, felt it hitch in your chest and you sat your beer down too, something final about the move. “Are you drunk?” You asked Steve. You weren’t sure if he’d had more to drink before you arrived.
He shook his head. You believed him. He wasn’t drunk, he was just feeling brave.
Fuck.
“Okay,” you said, ignoring the part of your brain that told you this was a bad, bad idea. Your best friend? But there was another part - a much larger part - that was shouting yes. The part that had been waiting too long for this, that whispered that the boy knew you so well, better than anyone… of course Steve would make you feel good. “Yeah, okay. Make me come.”
He made you come twice.
Once with his fingers, two hooked inside of you, calloused pads rubbing up at that that spot that hardly got touched, thumb dragging over your clit as he kissed you too sweet for how he was fucking his digits into you. Steve kissed soft and slow, deep and with his tongue licking over yours, pulling back just enough to whisper if it felt good, to ask how you liked it, to tell you to tell him how you wanted it.
The second time, he used his mouth. Hushing your protests that ‘he didn’t need to if he didn’t want to.’ Steve had kissed away your words, nudged his nose against your own and asked:
“Do you want me to?” He said it softly, without any push or pressure. Another kiss, sticky sweet. “Because I really, really want to. If you’ll let me.”
You nodded.
So he did, with more enthusiasm you’d had from any date, any hookup, any ex-boyfriend. Steve pushed your dress up, slid your underwear down and kissed at your thighs, waiting until you relaxed and softened for him against his pillows, smiling when your toes curled at his pretty, dirty words.
“You’re so gorgeous, you know that? God, princess, wanted to do this for too long.”
And:
“Gonna make you feel so good, promise. Such a pretty pussy, Christ, you taste so good, so sweet, fuck.”
When Steve wasn’t running his mouth, he had in on you, big hands holding your thighs open for him, coaxing you back to the edge with his tongue licking flat over your clit, dipping down to push his tongue around your entrance, groaning when you moaned for him, whispering into you to keep making those noises for him.
And when Steve knew you were getting close, back arching, gasps falling from your lips, he tugged you closer, threw your legs over his shoulders and encouraged you to move your hips against his face. His nose nudged at your clit when his tongue wasn’t on it, and when you came, it was harder than the first time, white behind your eyelids, your best friend's name in your mouth.
Steve missed you as you came down, lips dragging over your thighs, mumbling nonsense about how hot you were, how fucking pretty you looked when you came, how he really liked you saying his name like that. He kissed you sweet again on the lips, grinning when you hummed at the way you tasted yourself on him and when he pulled back, he looked a little smug.
“Better than Brad?” He asked, jealousy tinting his words despite the taste of you still on his tongue.
“Who?” You asked, still breathless, hands seeking warmth and bare skin under Steve’s shirt.
He grinned, more than pleased.
…..
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celtic-crossbow · 7 months
Text
I’m Hot, Sticky Sweet
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Setting: Commonwealth (after series end)
Warnings: Poorly written smut, food and sex, p in v, cunnilingus
Summary: You and Daryl haven’t been able to spend much time together. With only a certain amount of time available, you’re able to make the best of it by killing two birds with one stone.
A/N: I have no idea what I’m doing as a fanfic writer. Please forgive me for this insanity.
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“What’s goin’ on here?” Daryl could smell the delicious scent of spices the moment he opened the door. He knew you could cook, but there really had never been enough resources or time for anything fancy. He was salivating by the time he reached the dining room, taking in the spread on the four person table. 
The archer was always up before the sun and home long after it had set, helping around the Commonwealth in any way he could. Some days, Mercer would have him beyond the walls, pushing back herds. Other days, he’d be part of the labor responsible for reinforcing those walls. He did what he could, rarely turning down a request for his assistance. Runs were still necessary in order to maintain the life to which you all had grown accustomed. Daryl would be gone for hours, sometimes even days. 
He was always so tired. He was sore. He missed his family. 
Once Pamela had been imprisoned and Ezekiel eventually took over the position as governor, Daryl was given a larger house. The two of you had turned it down, though. There was a quaint little home, still bigger than the apartment, away from the town center. It was your idea of perfect for your little family. Its four bedrooms were small but none of you had very many belongings anyway.
You settled in quickly. Daryl didn’t worry about Judith and RJ. They were safe in your capable hands. While you fit the role of the stay at home mom, you wouldn’t hesitate to pick up your knives and bring them down on anyone that threatened the safety of those kids. 
“Hey, you.” You were beaming at him, a bowl of steamed vegetables in your hand, when Daryl shook himself out of his thoughts. 
“S’all this? Where the kids?”
“Well,” you began, wiping your hands in the apron you had just removed. “We haven’t had a lot of time for ourselves lately. Carol took Jude, RJ, and Dog for the evening and I grabbed some extra venison from the market.” When he simply stared at you, doubt eased in slowly and then all at once. You knew you could afford the extra meat. Daryl was paid well for all the hours he put in for the community. The leftovers could be used for his lunch tomorrow and dinner for you and the kids. Still, you twisted your hands in the soft fabric of your sundress and avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if—”
“Whoa, slow down. I ain’t upset or nothin’.” He had his hands up placatingly, a ghost of a smile adorning his lips. “Just didn’t know if I fucked up an’ forgot somethin’ impor’ant like our anniversary.”
Your self doubt ebbed away into amused adoration. “You remember our anniversary?” 
He was taking off his vest and gloves, glancing over at you with a sarcastic smirk. “Yep, s’that one day that looks just like ev’ry other day.” You laughed and gave his shoulder a playful shove. He didn’t let you push him too far and wound his arm around your side to pull you into him. “If we had a way to keep up with that shit, I’d mark that day up with a lil’ heart an’ blame Jude.” He nuzzled his nose against your jaw. 
“Daryl, that’s mean.” You chuckled, letting him press a quick kiss to your mouth. He hummed, continuing with his quick kisses while guiding you backward. 
“Pretty sure I told ya from the start that I’m a asshole.” He mumbled against your lips, pulling your bottom one in between his teeth. There was no stopping the small whimper that managed to escape your throat, earning a pleasant growl from deep in his chest. You let your arms wind around his neck and tugged at the wavy hair you found there. 
“Mmm, Daryl—food—table.” You managed between his increasing assault on your mouth. 
“Mhmm.”
He shifted in front of you but kept you close, the legs of one of the chairs scraping across the floor. Soon, the small of your back met the edge of the table but you were already too far gone to care. Your head was thrown back with his lips attached to the front of your neck when his large hands squeezed the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up. 
Your ass had barely met the cool surface when he was reaching underneath your dress and dragging your panties down your legs. You could hear the shifting of the dinnerware behind you but couldn’t entertain why that should be concerning. The damp heat between your legs was demanding your focus, and you let yourself be consumed. 
“Shirt.” You panted, crossing your ankles behind his back to pull his groin against yours while he removed the offensive garment, tossing it into the void of ‘I’ll find that later.’ Your mouths crashed together again, your hands working open his belt and fly while he shoved your dress up and out of the way. 
Tenderness was not on the table tonight, so to speak. Daryl grabbed your hips and pulled you down, wasting no time in entering you. Your mouths separated, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip while his jaw went slack, satisfied breaths and quiet moans mingling somewhere in the air between you. 
“Fuck.” His fingers flexed against your hips, his hold damn near bruising your soft skin. You couldn’t suppress the drawn out moan you offered him as he pulled his hips back, dragging each and every inch of him against your fluttering walls until only the tip remained. He was just as slow pushing back in, swallowing your little sounds of pleasure. 
The next few thrusts were faster. The ones after that, faster still. Soon enough, his pelvis was slamming against you. Your small hands gripped his shoulders but couldn’t seem to remain there. You needed to feel more of his skin. Your hands slid down his back and grabbed the waistband of his pants, pushing them down past his hips. Daryl chuckled against your mouth when you grabbed handfuls of his ass and dug your nails in to leave crescent moons indented in the skin. 
“I’ve missed you.” You whispered, bowing your head to suck on the skin where you could feel his pulse hammering away. The archer rewarded you with a hard snap of his hips before reaching behind him to pull your hands away. He pressed you down against the table and quickly pulled out, leaving your cunt empty and clenching. “Daryl.” You whined, but before you could sit up, his face was buried between your thighs, tongue lapping and lavishing your clit until it was swollen and throbbing.
“Cum for me.” You heard him growl, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive nub while a finger prodded at your entrance. Daryl slid his middle finger past your opening and began pumping hard and fast, desperately seeking to pull your orgasm from you. He curled that finger slightly, finding that soft spot inside you that had you near screaming and grasping for anything that you could hold onto. Plates and silverware crashed to the floor. You thought one may have shattered. “Did ya not hear me, woman? I said cum.” 
Your chest heaved for the breath you couldn’t seem to catch, all cognitive function absent as the coil in your belly began to pull taunt. “Daryl—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“Good girl. Give it to me.” He went back to flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. You were clenching around his finger in waves now. He knew you were seconds from climaxing. Wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves, he gently took it between his teeth and started to suck. 
“Fuck!” Your back arched off the table, your body vibrating through the throes of pleasure. It started in your stomach and spiderwebbed out through your limbs. Your hands found his hair and pulled, soliciting a deep grunt against your flesh. 
When you began to come down, your cunt was suddenly empty. But not for long. 
Daryl entered you again, roughly thrusting into your body at a punishing pace that shook the table beneath you. His right hand creeped around the back of your neck and pulled you up to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss that was all spit and tongues and teeth. 
He never slowed down, bringing your second orgasm on quickly while he slipped the spaghetti straps of your dress down your shoulders. You let his attentions fall to your neck while you pulled your arms from the straps and pushed both the dress and your bra down, giving the man access to your breasts. He wasted no time in placing his lips around a pert nipple. 
“Fuck, Daryl!” Your fingers found their way into his hair once again, urging him toward your mouth. He allowed himself to be led away from your breast but not without replacing his mouth with his hand. “Just—just like that. I’m so close!”
“Yeah,” he panted against your mouth, “me too.” 
Neither of you lasted long after, the room filled with your cries of his name and his drawn out moans. You fell back onto the table, still pulsing around him as he softened inside you. Daryl leaned forward to rest his forehead against your upper stomach while you ran your fingers through his sweat-damp hair. 
“That was incredible.” You breathed, staring up at the ceiling with a beaming smile. 
“Yeah. I missed ya, sunshine.” He said into the wadded up fabric of your dress. You hummed and gave his hair a gentle tug, encouraging him to look at you. When he did, you caught the gleam in his pretty blue eyes. 
“What?” You asked cautiously. 
“I ain’t nowhere near done with ya yet.” He went for your nipple but your hands quickly left his hair and caught each side of his face. 
“We need to eat before we spill something.” Somehow the food had indeed survived. 
“Can wait.” He muttered, shaking your hands off. When he tried a second time, you caught him again. This time he huffed in annoyance. 
“It’ll be cold. Well—colder.” You pouted. The archer watched you for a moment, ready to pull out and reset the table when he got the most brilliant idea. You saw the spark in his eyes and drew in your brows, feeling a little concerned. “I know that look. What scheme is rattling around in that head of yours, Daryl Dixon?”
With a Cheshire grin, he rose slightly and stretched an arm behind the top of your head, pulling back with a dollop of mashed potatoes on the tip of his finger. “We can both get what we want.” Without giving you time to consider his meaning, the bowman smeared the side dish across one of your nipples, dragging his tongue over it to clean up the mess. Your eyes sparkled. 
“You, sir, are a genius.”
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More than an hour and a half later, half empty serving dishes still littered the table, but you and Daryl were on the floor, the area around you a complete disaster. Daryl sat next to you, propped up on the wall with his legs stretched out. His pants were up but not buttoned. The left side of his face was dripping brown gravy, a portion of his hair wet with it. Remnants of mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese were smeared from his neck all the down to disappear past his waistband. 
You looked no better. Shavings and juices of venison were stuck to the swell of your breasts and side of your neck, anything between that and the lower part of your dress— pulled up to cover you by now— was hidden by the fabric itself. Your hair was a mess, with a half of a baby carrot dangling from a thin strand. What could be seen of your inner thighs was sticky with apple pie filling. 
You were both panting and even Daryl mirrored your small smile and chuckled when you looked at one another. He had been absolutely right. You were sated and full. 
But you probably wouldn’t serve the leftovers to the kids after all, though you were almost certain Daryl wouldn’t mind taking some for lunch. 
You were just about to suggest getting cleaned up when you heard a key enter and then turn in the front door lock. When you heard Carol call “hello,” you snapped your attention back to Daryl. 
“You gave her a key?!” You whisper-yelled. 
“Why wouldn’t I!?” He returned at the same volume. You gestured broadly at the two of you, and Daryl relented with a nod. “I see your point.”
“What happened?!” 
You both turned to the doorway, finding RJ and Judith staring at you with wide eyes. 
“What do you mean what— oh.” Carol hurried into the room and her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. Dog bounded around her leg and immediately began to sniff the floor, licking up any scraps he found dropped or smeared there. Daryl couldn’t even bring himself to correct the canine. “So,” Carol began, crossing her arms, “what did happen, you two?” From the knowing smile plastered on the woman’s face, you knew you needn’t explain to her. 
But shit, the kids. 
“There, uh—there was a, um, a spider!” You shrugged a shoulder when Daryl gave you a look that blatantly said ‘really, Y/N?’ 
“A spider.” Carol repeated, licking her lips to wipe away the grin. 
“Was huge.” Daryl nodded, carefully avoiding any of the eyes that were on him. “An’ mean.”
“Ew. Did you kill it?” RJ asked with a small cringe. 
“Sure did.” The archer lied. 
“How big?” Judith queried, crossing her arms like Carol. 
“Like—real big.” You supplied, covering your thighs a little more with your dress when you caught Carol looking at the mess there.
“Cool! Can we see?” RJ, who had seemed afraid just moments before was now very interested in this make believe monster arachnid that had slathered both you and Daryl as well as half the dining room in tonight’s dinner before meeting its untimely demise at the bowman’s hand. 
“No!” Daryl barked. RJ froze midstep. “S’ uh—s’in the gravy.”
“Gross. I’m not eating that, aunt Y/N.” The young boy curled his lip. 
“Of course not, baby.” You soothed, relieved that you two had seemingly gotten away with this. 
“Not to mention your bra.” Judith smirked. Your eyes widened. “Your bra is in the gravy too, aunt Y/N.”
Your eyes slid slowly toward where the gravy boat sat, a few feet from Daryl’s leg. The man was already hooking a finger under a strap and lifting the article, staring almost blankly ahead as he passed the dripping thing across his lap and let it dangle for you to grab it. 
“Damn huge spider.”
“Bra removing spiders in gravy boats.” Carol nodded, chuckling when Daryl put his red face in his hands and you rubbed the back of your neck. “Right. Well, don’t worry. These guys and that guy,” she pointed to Dog, who was gnawing on a piece of broccoli, “have already eaten. I’ll just go get them settled.” 
“Thanks.” You mumbled, looking defeated. Footsteps disappeared up the stairs before you and Daryl looked at one another. 
“She ain’t never gonna let this go.” He commented sourly. “Just feed me ta the walkers, sunshine. M’beggin’ ya.”
“If I have to hear it, then you do too.” You chuckled, leaning over against him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 
“She won’t pick on ya too bad.”
“She saves it all for you cause I’ll cry.”
“Guess I need to start cryin’ then.” You giggled and tilted your head back just in time for him to press a kiss between your eyes. “Was fun, huh?”
“Yeah, you make a nice buffet, Dixon.”
He hummed, drumming his fingers against your upper arm. “I wouldn’t mind s’more pie.” 
“How about a plate this time?”
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pinguwrites · 7 months
Text
You Set My Soul Alight | Jonathan Crane
Pairing -> sub!jonathan crane x villain!reader
Summary -> You and Jonathan Crane have always been at odds. He's an arrogant asshole and you're a sarcastic shit, and no matter what you always find a way to bump heads. The worst part about it is that deep down you find him brilliant and attractive and utterly intoxicating. One day, Crane comes to you with a plea to enticing to resist, and you find this the perfect opportunity to put him in his place.
Warnings -> smut (minors dni), enemies with feelings, sub!Jon acting like a brat, swearing, dom!reader, degradation kink, ma'am kink, unprotected sex, edging, hair pulling, ball slapping, slapping in general, if you squint real hard Jonathan's lowkey a little sexist, bruce wayne is a playboy, reader's kinda a simp
Word count: 5k
Disclaimer: The Dark Knight trilogy/DC characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.
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Jonathan Crane glared at you, his piercing blue eyes filled with a layer of contempt and almost embarrassment like he was regretting this entire endeavor. It was delightful, seeing him in this state, and you made sure to enjoy every second of it — the way his cheeks were tinting a light pink, his muscles tensed up and his tone coming out a desperate yet still arrogant plea. Moments like these were rare, and you were ready to savor and drag them out every chance you got. 
  “I need your help,” he repeated, his tone distasteful like he was swallowing a bitter pill. “I told you, I need more money for my experiments, but I can’t do it without any funding. Wayne Enterprises is hosting a gala next week. All the richest of the city will be there and all of them are looking to donate. Charity, science, whatever will make them look good. I know you’re going, so I’m asking — as polite as I can be — please, get me an invite.”
You tilted your head to the side, eyes trailing off to look at some random painting on the wall. You briefly wondered how he got past your home security, but after a few seconds, you focused your attention back on him. “Sorry, what did you say? Can you repeat that?” you said with a slight grin.
Jonathan pursed his lips. “Don’t be clever with me.” But then he shakes his head and lets his serious facade go. “We both know you have the connections to score another invite . . . Please, my darling.”
Your heart fluttered at the nickname, the way it always did when he called you that. You wondered if he knew just how much you enjoyed it.
“I like it when you beg, it’s always been a good look on you.”
Jonathan smiles. A mock smile.
“Well, it’s true. No point in getting all upset.” You shrug, heading over to your kitchen to get some iced coffee for the both of you. “Tell me, why should I help you? Why should I help the man who has made it his mission to offend me every time we speak?”
You may have been a little unfair in saying that. Sure, he was a brat, but so were you. In fact, ever since you two met you had always been at each other’s throats, demeaning one another, insulting everything from intellect to personality to looks. You doubt your paths would have ever crossed had it not been for your good friend Harley, who introduced you both one fateful summer evening.
You don’t know what went wrong that day. Maybe it was the weather, the exceptionally hot wind that only frequented Gotham once every couple of years, the ones that made the city cranky and sweaty, or perhaps it was simply a bad first impression, the ones that just happened every once in a while. It had happened far too long ago to remember what it was that made you dislike Jonathan so much in the first place, and you were sure it didn’t matter. According to everyone who knew him, he had always been an ass, but he was good company once you got to know him.
Maybe he was. You wanted to figure that out, to peel away the layers of armor. You could be friends, lovers even. He could be yours. Yours to do whatever you wanted with. Yours to put in place, because god knows he needed it.
You weren’t sure when you started to think like this. To grow an obsession, but you did, and you couldn’t stop your feelings now. You didn’t want to stop. Loving Jonathan was too addictive, no matter how much he pretended to hate you — because you knew he didn’t actually hate you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t stop in once every while, under the pretense of snarky put-downs or brags. He wouldn’t graze his fingers with yours when walking by, and he wouldn’t ask your friends (namely Harley) what you did, what you liked, and what you talked about. 
“Because deep down,” Jonathan answered, following you into the kitchen, “you know I’m brilliant, and you know I deserve your help.” He accepted the coffee, taking a small sip before continuing, “But you’re too prideful to admit it.”
“Maybe I am, but that’s not a good reason. Deserve isn’t enough, Crane. At least not for me. I know you can do better than this, convince me. That mouth must be good for something.”
Jonathan paused, his tongue briefly sweeping over his lower lip, making it glisten in the light of the lamp. You weren’t sure if the brief silence was because he got flustered, or he was just thinking. “Then do it because you want to,” he finally said. “Because you know my research is important and you care for it, enough to do me this one simple favor.”
“I don’t know . . .” you trailed off in a teasing tone.
It seemed like Jonathan was getting annoyed again. “My dear, won’t you help me?”
“I’m still thinking.” 
He groaned. “Pretty please?”
You let out a little sigh, barely audible. “I will. For you.” 
That last part had intended to come off as flirtatious and pretentious, but instead, it was soft and delicate, so vulnerable it took you off guard.
“Thank you,” he said, setting his glass down. He had finished all of the coffee, quickly enough so that there were still ice cubes lying on the bottom of the glass. “I’ll pick you up, around four. Who knows, maybe we’ll even have some fun.”
And that was it. He left through your front door without saying anything else, leaving you with thoughts of the gala and what dress you were going to wear.
That next week you had settled on one and bought yourself a burgundy dress, a beautiful shade of red, one like expensive wine or fresh blood, a color that you knew looked good on you. It was a deep cut that went through the valley of your breasts, but if you pressed your arms inwards just slightly, which you fully intended to do, they would push up. It was a look classy enough for a gala, but still seductive enough to garner attention. 
Originally, you weren’t going to attend the function at all. This kind of stuff had always been boring for you, even as a child who was forced to go, but if Jonathan was going on your behalf then you sorta had to and definitely wanted to.
A ring sounded through your house. He was here. 
You opened the door and took a deep breath once you saw Jonathan. He was dressed in a neat suit, but not like the suit he was wearing when you last saw him. This one was charcoal black, silky, and smooth, with a white handkerchief in his outer breast pocket. His shoes were the same color and looked like they had just been shined, and in his hand was a bouquet of red roses.
“For you,” he said, placing them in your hands. His eyes swept over your figure, and his mouth parted for a moment. “It matches.” You huffed, secretly flattered. “But it’s such a shame.” You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “Such a pretty little dress wasted on such an ugly little thing.”
You blinked, and then tossed the flowers to the side, letting them fall into a patch of dirt (you were definitely going to pick them up later). “Like you’re such a piece of work.”
“I am,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Men and women love me.”
Despite how attractive you found him, you really didn’t believe that. You were sure his attitude warded most people off, and besides, he was an introvert and a criminal. Dating wasn’t just something people like him did often.
“We’ll see. This gala will be filled with attractive young bachelors. Get one interested in you and I’ll admit you're handsome,” you challenged.
“Admit?” He laughed, a beautiful laugh. “Admit implies that you already find me handsome, you just don’t want to confess so.”
This man needed to be slapped. He needed to be given a good, hard hit across the face.
“You know what? I feel like being alone tonight. I think I’ll just go to the gala without you.”
You were about to close the door, intending to head to your garage, but Jonathan grabbed your wrist and pulled you outside, shutting the door behind you.
“No takebacks. You promised. Where’s your honor?”
“Honor?” You scoffed. “I’m a killer, what did you expect?”
Jonathan must have really thought that you were going to leave because he gripped your wrist tighter. “I’m sorry,” he quickly said. “I’ll be good tonight.” He placed his index finger to his thumb with his free hand and made a zipping motion across his lips. “See?”
“You better be. I’m doing you a favor here. Now, come inside, we’ll take my car—”
“I have a car,” Jonathan said. “I even got us a driver.”
You took a peek over his shoulders. Sure enough, there was a fancy car waiting in the driveway, engine still on. It was difficult to see through the windows but you could make out the faint outline of a man in the driver’s seat.
“If you insist.”
He held out his arm for you to take, and while you did want to, you instead shoved it away. For a moment, you swore a flicker of hurt crossed his face, but it was gone too fast for you to be sure it was even there at all. 
“Where’s my invite?” he asked.
“You don’t have one. You’re going as my plus one.”
“As your date?”
“It’s not a date. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy. What’s with all this complaining?”
“I’m not complaining, I was expressing my feelings. You should work on that. As a psychiatrist, I recommend—”
“—I recommend you shut the fuck up.”
Jonathan put his hands up, surrendering, but he did so beaming.
It hadn’t taken too long to get to the party. Traffic was high as always, but time seemed to be flowing faster than ever, despite you and Jonathan staying silent.
When you arrived there was a line of cars. Wayne Manor, a building you had only been to twice before, was still as impressive as you remember. It was a collection of elegant architecture and stonework, with a large wooden entrance that opened up to a main hall. The size of the driveway and front lawn was a bit unnecessary, at least to you, but what else could you expect from old money? 
After getting out of the car you were greeted by cameras and reporters, lights flashing in your eyes, but you didn’t bother with them. 
Jonathan reached out his hand, and this time you did take it — but only because everyone was watching, and if you pushed him away it would have caused an unnecessary scene. Jonathan’s driver drove the car away for parking and you both walked inside.
The inside was spacious, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and people dressed classy, with gloves and diamond earrings, all mingling and chatting with each other about the stock market or their annoying ex-spouse or how it was such a bother when their vacation to Switzerland had to be canceled because of work. There was a tray of snacks and waiters walking around with luxurious drinks, something you immediately took advantage of.
“Thank you, sir,” you said politely, taking a glass of champagne, but before you could take a sip someone called out your name.
You turned around to see Bruce Wayne himself waving over to you, a boyish charm about him. He had two women on his arms, models or prostitutes, or both, you couldn’t tell, but they were drop-dead gorgeous. 
Your parents did business with him, and as a result, you met him at a young age. You were never really buddy best friends, but you went to the same school and that was enough for him to invite you to all his parties and greet you as though you were a family friend.
“You know Bruce Wayne?” Jonathan whispered, but before you could answer Bruce approached you both.
“I haven’t seen you around in a while,” he said. “This is Mila and Stephanie. Say hi ladies.” They giggled and waved as he gave the back of your hand a little kiss. “Gorgeous girl. You should wear these outfits more often, you truly look stunning.”
You let him put his arm around your waist, enjoying the compliment. 
“Oh, no,” you said modestly. “It’s just a dress.”
Jonathan chuckles. “Ah, don’t be like that, my darling. You look exquisite.”
You all but glared at him. Now he said you looked nice. 
“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” Bruce removed his arm from around your waist and held it out to shake Jonathan’s hand. 
“Dr. Jonathan Crane,” he responded, a little tense. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne.”
“Jonathan’s actually doing some research into brain chemistry,” you said.
“Really? Tell me about it, Dr. Crane,” Bruce said, flashing a charming smile. 
“I would,” Jonathan responded, turning to you, “but I don’t wanna bore my girl.”
“Your girl?” Bruce repeated, eyes glancing at you. “ You’re a lucky guy. Tell me how scored such a beauty like her?”
“Oh, it wasn’t that hard.” Jonathan reached around and put his hand on your shoulder. “She was practically falling all over me.”
That was true, but your jaw still clenched. “He likes to exaggerate,” you told Bruce with a little laugh.
“Well, if you ever want to change things up a little, I’m right here.” Bruce winked comically, leaving with his girls.
You could tell Bruce wasn’t joking. It sounded like a serious offer, only told in a joking format so as to not rile Jonathan up, as he was under the impression Jonathan was your actual boyfriend.
“You’re a jealous mongrel,” you told Jonathan once Bruce was out of sight. You both walked over to a more secluded corner. “Can’t imagine the idea of having to share, huh? Had to go and make up stories?”
Jonathan scowled. “He was shameless around you. Be grateful I warded him off,” he said arrogantly. “And it’s not like you guys would have worked out. With what your hobby and all.”
You didn’t say anything. Jonathan was jealous, huh? You know felt a sudden urge to go after Bruce, get a little drunk, and follow him back to his room. It’s not like he wasn’t handsome, he was the most eligible bachelor in the city. And you did like him. He was funny and nice. Plus, you two had known each other for a long while. What a fun trope, especially if it was making Jonathan mad.
“A good fuck needs to work out only for the night.” You shrugged.
“You—you can’t,” Jonathan sputtered out. “You’re here with me, not him.”
“I don’t see the problem. I got you in the door and now you don’t need me anymore. What’s wrong if I have some fun?”
“You can’t.”
You waved him off, though you were enjoying the way he was pouting.
“Brat,” you muttered under your breath.
 “I’m not a brat.” He gave a dry chuckle. “Excuse me for wanting to spend the night with you.”
“Then why don’t you act like it?” You grinned devilishly. “Act like you want nothing more than to be here.”
Jonathan’s breathing hitched. Yours did too.
“You want it?”
“Don’t be scared.”
After you said that he didn’t hesitate to lean forward to give you a hard kiss, bringing his hand around the back of your head to push you both even closer together. He pulled away, his face still close to yours.
“Like that?”
“Yeah, like that,” you breathed out.
“I can give you more,” he whispered in your ear, his breath almost ticklish. “I know you want it. Been fantasizing about me all this time, hmm?”
You smiled coyly.
“For me to bend you over like the whore you are—”
“—Careful, Crane. I might just have to slap you.”
“Say it. Say you want me to fuck you. Fucking say it—”
You took a quick glance around the room to see if anyone was looking, which they thankfully weren’t, and then gave Jonathan a quick, harsh slap to the face.
The force of it made his neck turn, and his cheeks immediately turned red. He stayed silent for a moment, looking up at you through thick eyelashes, eyes narrowed in lust. It was all the conformation you needed to grab his chin, lift his face up, and give him another slap.
Before you could say anything else he pressed his lips up against you again, pressing you up against the wall passionately.
You backed away, and he furrowed his eyebrows, but all you did was grab his hand, feeling a frenzy of desire take over you. “Let’s go.” 
You dragged him through the sea of people and out a backdoor. There were a couple of people walking around in the garden, but you managed to find a place secluded enough for you and Jonathan. The ground was grassy and soft, and no one was walking by. Even if they did, they’d have to be purposefully looking for you two to see you both behind the trees and flowers.
“Lay down,” you ordered.
He grinned but did as you asked. “Here? Outside? You’re such a naughty girl.”
“Do you wanna wait until we get home?”
“No,” he said, a little too eagerly. “I want it now.” He sat up and tugged on your dress, running his hand up your leg. “You’re so soft,” he murmured, planting a few wet kisses on your thigh. 
You sighed contently, enjoying the affection he was giving you. This moment felt like a haze, like the world was just slipping by and you were stuck in time, a feeling that made you wonder if this was a dream or not. The evening sunset and dark sky weren’t helping either. It all felt perfect, too perfect.
“Mmm.” Jonathan reached up and hooked his fingers into your underwear. You snapped out of your trance and swatted his hand away.
“Getting a little touchy there, aren’t you?”
He smirked, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. “Just tryna please you, darling.”
You thought for a moment, then decided that you would let him eat you out.
“Alright then. Please me, Dr. Crane.”
Jonathan’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the name, savoring the way it rolled so delicately off your tongue. He lifted up your dress and pulled down your panties. You kicked them off to the side and rested your dominant leg on his shoulder.
He pushed his finger against your folds, making a humming sound. “You’re so wet, darling.”
He leaned forward to suck on your clit roughly.
You lightly gasped at the pleasant sensation, bucking your hips into his face accidentally. You had meant to show more control, but how could you when Jonathan was so hungrily lapping? burying his face into your pussy like he was starved, passionately alternating between licking and sucking.
“Oh, Jonathan.”
His fingers, which had been gripping your hips, moved upward. As he continued to press his tongue against your clit his finger gently prodded your entrance, making sure that you were ready. He pushed his finger, curling it slightly. 
You stifled your moans, not wanting a passerby to catch you two in the act, but you were finding it difficult. He kept thrusting his finger in and out of you, adding another one just a minute later.
You threw your head back, eyes shut. You held his head for balance and relaxed, letting yourself go into a peaceful bliss. But then you felt Jonathan’s teeth nip your bud, biting into it deliberately, and you yelped.
Gripping his hair, you forced him to look at you. His mouth and nose were covered in your wetness, and his lips were curving up into a delightful smile.
 “What was that for?”
He shrugged. “Mmm, I couldn’t help it, Ma’am.”
Instead of reprimanding him, you took the selfish route and pushed his face in between your legs, grinding onto his lips until you felt that familiar sense of elated happiness. You came all over him, your brain shutting off, or rather, getting overloaded at that euphoric, all-consuming release.
You let go of Jonathan’s hair, but he didn’t pull away. He licked up your cum, making your nerves feel overstimulated, but after he was satisfied, he stopped.
“You like that?” he asked.
“F-fuck, yeah.”
You grabbed your panties and put them back on, much to Jonathan’s dismay.
“Where are you going?” He got up, using his sleeve to wipe off the remaining juices on his face. You could see a tent, his cock poking out from under his pants. 
“Home, of course. And you’re coming with me.”
He shook his head vehemently, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his hard cock against your body. “Let’s finish this here. I can’t wait any longer. Don’t make me wait.”
“If you’re a good boy, you’ll wait.”
“I can’t,” he bitched desperately, hurriedly pulling down his pants. “I won’t. I’ve waited too fucking long.”
You grabbed his cock through the fabric, squeezing it tight in his hands.
His face contorted to one of pleasure and pain. “Huh!”
“You think you can just get what you want? After you’ve such a dick? Oh, ‘she was practically falling all over me’. ‘Such a pretty little dress wasted on such an ugly little thing.’”
“C’mon, I didn’t mean it! You looked so beautiful, I was just trying to make you mad. Be nice . . . Pleaseee?”
You gripped it tighter and he whimpered. “See how pathetic you get the moment I show an ounce of authority? How you start to beg?  If I say something you do it. Do you understand?” He didn’t say anything, his lips still parted in pain. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes!” he choked out.
You let go. “Good boy. Now go call your driver and ask him to pick us up ‘round back. Unless you want everyone to see your erection?”
You gestured to the front of the manor, where through the bushes you could still see people enjoying the party. 
“No, no.” He called his driver, trying his best to cover his erection by interlocking his hands in front of his waist. “You’re a cruel goddess.”
While you two waited for the driver, you peppered sweet kisses along Jonathan’s neck, but when he arrived, you stopped, making him groan at the loss.
Throughout the drive back to your place, you ghosted your fingers over Jonathan’s lap, occasionally resting your hand on his length. Once the driver dropped you both off, you wasted no time in pushing him to your room.
He took off his clothes as did you, his white cock springing up furiously. It was just the right size, bigger and longer than average, almost so that you worried about having to fit it inside you.
His figure was lanky, but still muscled, just the way you thought it would be. You placed your fingers on his chest, twisting his nipples. He shuddered and took off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. You shoved him down on your bed and he immediately spread his legs, giving you perfect access. 
“Want me to suck you off, Jon?” 
“Yes!” he said impatiently. “Just do it.”
You spanked his balls with your hand, carefully watching the way they bounced ever so slightly.
“Nghh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Do it whenever you feel like.”
Despite his words, you could see him waiting anxiously for you to touch him.
You did so, kissing the tip of his head and running your tongue through the slit, tasting the salty precum he was leaking. He hissed when you took his entire length. “Ah.”
You gripped your thumb so you wouldn’t gag and took him in all the way, hollowing out your cheeks. He thrusted up, deepthroating you for a hot second before he placed his hips firmly against the bed, not wanting to do anything that would upset you.
“So—so warm,” he stuttered out. “Can’t wait to feel your cunt, if your mouth is this fucking good.”
You would have said something, but your mouth was filled, busy bobbing up and down. He squirmed and moaned, shamelessly being as loud as he could. You could feel yourself getting wet again, but you controlled your urges for the sake of Jonathan.
He brushed your hair out of the way, scrunching up his face. “M’gonna — hnghhh — m’gonna come!”
That was when you pulled off of him.
It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, but when he did, he wasted no time in complaining. 
“No,” he mewled, tearing up. “I’ve been such a good boy. Such a good boy.”
“Have you?” You giggled.
“I need you, I need this,” he moaned. “I’ve wanted you so bad — that’s why I came to you, that’s why I came to you and no one else. I didn’t even need the sponsors that bad, I just wanted to see you. I . . . I’m in agony,” he continued dramatically. 
“That’s sad.”
More tears ran down his cheek at your nonchalant words. He sniffled. “Please, stop that and just make me come!”
“Okay. I think you deserve it.”
But instead of putting your mouth back on him, you sunk onto his cock, slowly at first, so your pussy could get used to the size.
“Oh, fuck,” Jonathan cursed, placing one of his hands on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. His other hand went up to play with your breasts, cupping and kneading them like they were pieces of dough. 
You started bouncing, a string of incoherent words and moans leaving your mouth. Jonathan sat up and wrapped you in his arms, kissing down your neck as you moved. 
“You feel so good,” you murmured, clenching around his cock. “I s-should have done this sooner.”
“Should’ve,” Jonathan agreed. “But — ah — we can always do this more often, yeah?”
Too blissed out to respond with words, you just nodded your head, resting your head in the crook of his neck. 
It didn’t take long for both of you to come after that. His hot load spurted inside of you and you came again, but this time on his cock.
He collapsed, exhausted from the sensations. 
You slowly got up, letting out a little wince as you felt his length leave you. You cuddled up beside him, caressing his cheek, wrapping you both in the blanket. He looked a little tired, and you didn’t blame him. So were you.
“You set my soul alight,” he said softly. “You always have.”
You wanted to ask him how deep his feelings ran, if this was just sex, or if it was something more, but when he fell asleep on your breast, you dropped the idea. He trusted you enough to let his guard down around you, and for now, that was more than enough.
The rest of the night was spent holding each other in your arms as you slept. When you woke up in the morning, he was still there, snoring softly like he was a peaceful angel.
You pulled him closer to you. “I’m never letting you go,” you murmured darkly. “Never.”
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kanmom51 · 1 month
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Missing Jikook today
Not that I don't miss them every single day, but just saying...
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@wonsummernight Miss your edits!!!!!! I know there isn't any new Jikook content just yet, but if there was a time we were in dire need for some heart wrenching Jikook edits, this is it!!!
Basically, this is me telling you "PLEASE COME BACK". 💜💜
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So, I came today to cry a little, you know commiserating together with others takes the edge off a bit (note to self: keep telling yourself that, and you might start believing it too...), but also to remind y'all that SM is crap, a viper pit, a cec pool, where all the miserably unhappy ignorant assholes tend to flock to (this is about the assholes that have turned sm into such a place), either to create drama that will get them some much needed attention they aren't getting elsewhere, or to create a parallel universe where their dreams and wants come true, even if they have zero standing in reality. Oh, and I forgot those that are there to make some hard cash, by all means.
And why am I mentioning all of this, you may ask?
Well, because for some reason my hopes and dreams for a fandom cleanse are being shattered as we speak.
As you may already know, I've taken a step back lately. mainly distancing myself from SM, as it's been going downhill for ages now, but has become an even uglier place to visit in the past few months, I'd say ever since it's been known that JK and JM are enlisting TOGETHER and will be serving TOGETHER, basically being in each other's close vicinity 24/7 for 18 months (even if not sharing exact same duties within the unit) and spending off time together . And to clarify once again: Same unit, same posting (base), different duties within the unit.
You'd think that 3 months in, and after the initial shock, reality and truth would set in (even with the most delusional) that these two young men CHOSE to enlist together (free choice and steps taken by both of them to achieve this). And once again me reminding they are the only ones in the group to decide they want to do this and the only idols to ever do so.
But no. Who am I kidding? Probably wishful thinking on my part. You know, that these people will either wake up, smell the roses and just cope with reality, or plain and simply piss off (that's probably me being delusional at this point).
Point being, it's gotten even worse. Like who would have believed that would happen? Yeah, probably should have seen it coming though. When you have cult behavior, when you have those that profit off it (monetarily or otherwise), I should have known it would go this way. The need to dive even deeper into the filth of this earth, to create even dumber narratives, to, of course, spew even more hate towards either of them (depending what delusional team you are on).
Should have seen it all coming.
Sadly, instead of just leaving, tail between their legs, they are doubling down on their utterly delusional beliefs regarding these young men. Not without pain, I may add. Pain, that a small part of me, someone that tries very hard to be nice and good and positive, is now relishing (I lie... not that mall of a part after all). Their twists and turns, their made up shit to compensate for whatever shit JK, JM or Tae are throwing their way... kind of priceless. I mean, if they aren't going anywhere, should we not at least enjoy their demise?
Does that make me a bad person?
Honestly, I don't think so.
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And Jikook being away from most of this, lighting the fire and walking away leaving their haters behind to burn, was a nice touch.
Now we just sit here silently wait for our little travel show...
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💜💜
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mono-moonchilds · 11 months
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NOT THE ONLY ONE | JJK
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⤑ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
⤑ genre: smut and angst
⤑ rating: explicit (18+)
⤑ word count: 3.3K
⤑ summary: whoever said that the truth would set you free was a liar. the truth was cold and it hurt. and sometimes it still left you stuck in the same cycle.
⤑ warnings: college fic, jk is an asshole, manipulative behavior, infidelity, gaslighting, sad!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oc wants to be loved, toxic relationship
⤑ part one
The morning after was always the worst.
A harsh feeling of shame washing over every step you took as you made your way through the campus. Realistically no one knew. There was no way they could. It wasn’t like Jungkook was going to tell anyone and you definitely weren’t either. But despite knowing that it still didn’t help. It felt like everyone was staring at you- quietly judging you for the decisions you made.
Could you blame them though?
You knew exactly how everything was going to end the moment you saw Jungkook at your door. The worst part was that you’d do it again. Despite the shame and the sadness, you’d do it all over again just for those few fleeting moments of happiness.
It was pathetic.
Always craving more of Jungkook even after he showed you his true colors time after time. Always trying to convince yourself of the maybes. That maybe he would be true this time, maybe he’d stay, maybe he would simply see that you were worth it. That you were worth his time, his energy, his commitment.
It was something about never being the first choice that really fucked with someone’s well-being. Fucked with the way you carried yourself- the way you looked at yourself.  Sometimes when you looked at old photos you couldn’t even recognize the person you saw. The bright smile you once sported was so foreign and far to you now. 
“Y/n!” You turned to see Hoseok jogging your way. The sweet smile he always sported etched across his face just like usual. “I’ve been calling your name for a while now.”
“Ah- sorry. Didn’t even hear you.”
“I’m about to go meet Yoongi for lunch you wanna come?”
“I got a class that starts in like fifteen minutes,”
“Gross,” Hoseok gagged in disgust. “Come on just ditch this once. I got shit to tell you about last night.”
“I can’t. It’s one of Professor Williams’ classes. You know how she is.”
Right on cue, just like it always did when Hoseok heard that name, the smile on his face dropped only to be quickly replaced with genuine annoyance and anger. “Fucking hate that bitch,” He grumbled with a scowl.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “For some reason, something tells me the feeling is most likely mutual.”
Hoseok rolled his eyes. “I got weed,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a baggy. “Top tier gossip and weed. You’re crazy if you turn this down.”
“As tempted as I am, I still gotta say no. Top tier gossip and weed or my literal grade in a class that I pay to attend.” You held up your hands as if you were physically weighing both options. “I think we both know the obvious choice here.”
Hoseok booed, quite literally booed, throwing down both thumbs in the process. “Fine. Even though we both know you could tell that woman you murdered someone and she would still let you make up anything you missed. What’s the point of being the teacher's pet if you don’t use it for your advantage?”
“Save me some and tell me everything when I get home later?”
“I don’t know,” Hoseok shrugged. “I may not be in a talky mood later.”
It was silent for only a moment before the two of you both burst into laughter. Hoseok not being in the mood to talk? That was like a fish suddenly deciding it could live without water. It was never going to happen.
As you watched Hoseok leave, the tiny slither of okay-ness that you’d briefly felt left with him. Maybe you should just ditch class this once. Realistically what harm could it do? You were already ahead in your work and like Hoseok said Professor Williams wasn’t going to do anything to you if you missed a class. God knows you could use the distraction. The second Hoseok left; your brain immediately went back to Jungkook. 
What was he doing? What was he thinking? Did he feel bad for leaving you like that? Did he feel bad for the way he treated you?
You already knew the answer to these questions, but you still couldn’t help but think of the maybes. Those damn maybes and the endless possibilities they could hold were going to be your downfall.
“H-,” You were about to call out to Hoseok telling him to wait up when something stopped you in your tracks.
More accurately- someone stopped you in your tracks.
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve sworn that you were having a heart attack. The pain in your chest is almost enough to knock you to your knees. You blink once, twice, and then a third trying to convince yourself that you were going crazy. That you’d finally lost it and were just seeing things.
But no matter how much you blinked or rubbed, the sight just wouldn’t go away. It was real. The girl clinging to Jungkook’s arm was very real. You wanted to believe that it was something new- that she was just another fling like you but there was something that was off. The way the two of them held each other had a sense of familiarity. The way their hands and eyes lingered. This wasn’t a fling and it definitely wasn’t anything new.
It was cultivated.
It was seasoned.
It was everything you wanted.
“I love you,” The girl leaned up pressing a long kiss to Jungkook’s lips. Even the way he smiled- it was something that you’d never seen before. The small smile on his face as he stared down at her with nothing but adoration in his eyes.
“Love you too baby.”
Your heart shattered.
When the two turn to go their separate ways Jungkook notices you. His mouth fell open a little as he looked between you and his girlfriend. She was none the wiser. A happy little bounce in her step as she entered the nearest building. Jungkook said nothing and neither did you. In fact, you did the exact opposite. You turned and ran, hightailing it out of there as fast as you could. There was this hope that Jungkook would yell after you, that he would chase you down and say something.
He never did.
Her name was Imani.
She was an education major. She had an older sister, a German Sheppard, and two loving parents. She liked taking pictures of sunsets. Always posted her adventures with her friends. Had more community service under her belt than a delinquent teen that was being forced by the state. She’d been on two study-abroad trips. One in Japan and the other in Brazil. And as recently as last semester she’d transferred into the University after leaving one that’d been closer home.
She was kind of difficult to find. And for a moment you thought maybe you were seeing things. From Jungkook’s Instagram page, you would’ve never even assumed he had a girlfriend. Most of his pictures consumed him at the gym or of random food he’d eaten. There were no pictures of her or them together and Jungkook had his tags hidden. It wasn’t until you went through the comments of ten different pictures that you found her.
l0V3lY.M4N1: my baby is so handsome 😍
Jungk00k: 💖💖💖
Her page told a different story.
Jungkook was everywhere. He was in a post as recent as a week ago and one as old as five years ago.
Imani and Jungkook had been together since their junior year of high school.
They’d attended prom together, went to each other’s family functions, hell- they spent holidays together.
If you weren’t so close to the verge of tears you’d laugh. The whole thing is hilarious in a sick way. This entire time you’d been hoping- praying that Jungkook would see you as a person when in reality he already had his person. He’d had her for half a decade. She was pretty and vibrant. Kind of reminded you of those girls you’d see on Pinterest. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, cute clothes.
You were a mess. The fading pink curls on your head matted together. The sweat jacket and pants you had on hung sloppily against your body.
With a loud noise, Jungkook's name pops across your screen. You immediately send him to voicemail. He doesn’t give up though. No matter how many times you decline the call Jungkook keeps calling again and again and again.  You could’ve easily blocked him but something about the persistence he was finally making made your heart flutter in a sad way. A sick smile creeping onto your mouth each time his name popped back up. After the tenth time, you couldn’t help but swipe your thumb across.
“Open the damn door.” Click. There was a heavy knock. Your hand was already on the doorknob before you could even let out the next breath.
When the opened the door, it was like muscle memory. A loud smack echoed through the hall. 
“Damn,” A distant voice in the hall echoed out.
Jungkook’s head slowly turned back to face you. His eyes were low with anger. “That make you feel better?” He huffed out.
“No. Go the fuck home Jungkook.”
Of course, he didn’t listen. Just like the night before he pushed his way into the apartment shutting the door behind him.
“List-”
“You’re a real piece of shit you know that right?” You cut him off. “Just when I think you couldn’t get any worse you prove me wrong. You have a girlfriend!”
“It doesn’t mean anything,”
You blinked in disbelief. Did he really just say that? You couldn’t help but laugh. Jungkook stared at you like you’d grown two heads. His face twisted between a mix of discomfort and confusion.
“You’ve been together for five years.”
 “How do you even know that?”
You held up your phone flicking on the screen. “It’s all right here,”
“What the fuck,” Jungkook attempted to reach for the phone, but you were too quick. Stepping back, you smoothly moved it away. “Are you fucking crazy!” You jumped at the sound of Jungkook’s booming voice.
There was nothing but pure disgust on his face and even though it should’ve truly been the opposite way around you couldn’t help but feel shame.
“What is wrong with you?”
You couldn’t even answer. The phone you were holding so proudly in the air just a second ago now feeling as heavy as a bag of sand.
“I don’t even know why I came here,” Jungkook sighed letting out a deep breath. “I’m leaving.”
Let him leave.
Please just let him leave.
Your brain quietly begged you.
His hand was on the knob. Jungkook was almost gone. Just let him leave.
“Jungkook please,” You quietly called out. “Please don’t leave. I’m…. I’m- I’m sorry.”
For once when you looked at Jungkook he genuinely seemed to be in shock. Like even he was in disbelief of what he’d just heard. You couldn’t even believe it yourself. Out of all the things you should’ve said, had you really just apologized?
“Please-” He closed his eyes. “Don’t apologize…. why are you fucking apologizing? Shit-” Jungkook whispered running his hands over his face. “I…I can’t,”
“Jungkook please,”
“What do you want from me!” The dark hair boy whipped around. “Fuck…baby,” Jungkook swore again. “I didn’t mean to yell. Please don’t cry.”
You whispered a small okay, but the tears didn’t stop. Even as Jungkook moved forward his soft hands cupping your face as he gently tried to wipe the tears away, they didn’t stop. Just like last night when Jungkook touched you- you couldn’t help but lean further into him. Your body curled into him as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.
“What are you doing to me?” Jungkook mumbled. It was so quiet you weren’t even sure you were meant to hear it.
For the first time since the very first time, Jungkook was soft. His lips gently caressed yours as he guided you through the narrow hall and to your bedroom.  As Jungkook laid you down you couldn’t help but cling to him. Your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body as if you let go he would just disappear. You knew he was going to leave at some point- he always did- but for right now you wanted him as close as possible. 
Imani be damned. Jungkook was yours and you were his.
At least for this moment.
“Take this off,” He tugged at your jacket. Without a second thought, you leaned forward sliding the jacket over your head before letting it fall to the floor. “My pretty girl,” Jungkook whispered sliding your bra off next. A low whine escaped you as Jungkook’s fingers ghosted across your skin.
“What do you want?”
“Anything,”
A light chuckle left Jungkook’s nose. In all honesty, it made you feel gross. The way the knowing smirk registered on his face as he thought about your words. Even though you hadn’t technically said it Jungkook knew what you meant. He knew exactly what he was doing and that alone should’ve made you push him off you.
But you didn’t. Instead, you begged.
He just shushed you. “You don’t want me to rush right?”  You quickly shook your head. “I know you don’t want me to.”
With that, Jungkook went back to what he was doing. Tracing his fingers along while you lay there taking whatever he gave you. Piece by piece, Jungkook took his time removing the remainder of your clothes.
“I haven’t even done anything and you're so fucking wet,” Jungkook reached down spreading your lips apart. “You’d take anything I gave you. Do anything I say. Wouldn’t you?” You gave a shameful nod. Jungkook just smiled smugly to himself.
You let out a breath of relief as Jungkook finally leaned down pressing long kisses against your body. The dark-haired boy not stopping until he was right in front of the place you needed him most.
The loud blaring of Jungkook’s phone ringing pulled the two of you from the moment. You couldn’t see who was calling but for some reason, you already knew.
“Hi baby,” Jungkook said sweetly into the phone confirming your suspicion. The lust-filled fog you’d briefly felt immediately lifted and now all that was left was disgust. What the hell were you doing?
“No no-” He laughed. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you. Yeah no-” Jungkook let out a deep breath. “I’m still not feeling to well.” A soft whimper escaped your lips as Jungkook took his thumb resting it on your clit as he rubbed against the small button in circular motions.
Pouting his lips out, Jungkook silently shushed you. “No babe don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow. M’just gonna lay down and go to sleep.” He pushed a finger in making you gasp.
“Yeah, I know.” Jungkook hummed. “I love you too,”
If Jungkook hadn’t hung up the phone so quickly the sound of you bursting into tears would’ve definitely exposed the five different lies he’d just told. Never once in all your years had you experienced two totally different emotions at once. 
“Y/n- baby,” Jungkook cooed softly as he leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You sucked in a shaky breath, arms wrapping around your body. “What the fuck-” You heaved. It felt like you were about to throw up. “Oh my god… what am I do- you-you have a girlfriend.”
“But I’m here with you. Just let me do this.” Jungkook begged. He sounded so sincere. You could feel yourself falling back under. “Just one last time. You- you drive me crazy.”
It was so sad how that was all it took for Jungkook to have you back under his spell. A faint smile filled his lips as he pushed back so he could stand up and pull down his pants. The tip of his cock was dark red and leaking with anticipation.
You began to roll over onto your stomach but a hand resting on your hip stopped you. “I wanna see you,” Your heart swelled.
Despite the position change, Jungkook was still as rough as he usually was. His fingers dug harshly into your throat as he fucked you. As much as you didn’t want to think about it you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if this was how he treated Imani. The very nature in how he spoke to her was so different that you couldn’t imagine it to be true. Jungkook was probably so gentle with her, he took his time making her feel special with every touch while with you Jungkook just fucked you like some whore.
And that’s all you were. At least to him.
That still didn’t stop you from grasping at his arm as you asked for more.
“Keep your eyes on me,” Jungkook demanded. “Wanna see you. Need shit-” He let out a deep groan. “Need to see you.”
You nodded your head in compliance but with the way Jungkook pushed into you, it was too hard to keep your word. “ah- Kook…please- fuck,” The way he looked on top of you was so gorgeous. His hair hung in his face as his eyebrows twisted in determination.
“I know baby,” Jungkook gasped as he twisted your left nipple between the balls of his fingers. “You’re so good- doing so fucking good.” You let out a loud whine. “What is it, baby?”
“Muh-more. Please- more,”
“Words baby,”
You weren’t even sure what you meant. Whether you meant it literally, figuratively, or both. Probably both. All you wanted was Jungkook.
Instead of saying anything else you just pulled him closer until his body was lying flat against yours. When Jungkook pulled away you almost felt yourself about to cry, rejection flooding your body, but within seconds he hushed you pulling your legs onto his shoulders before he leaned down pressing himself against you again.
“No marks,” He muttered sternly. You hadn’t even realized you’d begun. Jungkook didn’t follow his own direction though. His lips sucking eagerly on your neck as he continued to fuck you open.
You couldn’t help the tears rolling down your face. You just wanted this all the time. Wanted Jungkook all the time.
“Please, please”
“My pretty baby gonna cum?” You bounced your head eagerly. “Me too- mmm… you feel so fucking good.” You gasped loudly clenching tightly around him. “That’s right baby- give it to me.”
You’re sure the neighbor can hear you as you scream out in pleasure from the band in your stomach snapping. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as nothing but the sound of static and color white filled your brain.
Jungkook came with a loud groan. His body stuttering against yours as his warm cum painted your walls creamy white. Even as Jungkook fell to the side rolling onto his back you didn’t let him go. Your arms wrapped around his stomach as if he would disappear if you let him go for just a second.
Because he would. Undoubtedly Jungkook was going to leave you and there was nothing you could do about it.
He was going to walk out of here and go back to Imani as if nothing between the two of you had ever existed. Just the thought of him running his hands along her deep brown skin is enough to make you want to puke.
And as much as you wanted to hate her you couldn’t. You were the one in the wrong. Maybe you didn’t know about her at first but now you did, and you’d still slept with Jungkook.
“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
“I hate you. I hate you so much.” You sobbed.
“I know,” Jungkook took a long pause. “I hate me too.”
When you woke up the next morning just like you expected your room was empty. The only trace of Jungkook even being here is the scattered marks along your jaw. 
When you picked up your phone it’s still where you left it last night.
On Imani’s Instagram page.
You don’t know why you did what you did next.
You click the little blue button in the top left corner.
⤑ A/N: I'm sorry guys I know a lot of you who liked the first story wanted a part two where jk was redeemed but tbh I just could not think of a storyline for that. even when this one-shot was originally jikook I had always imagined that if there was a pt 2 in the next fic jk would turn out to have had a significant other the whole time. also, I like angst sue me :p
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