#the hundred x ps reader

[buryustogether]

lilac - chapter 1

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: the father of one of your students is acting rather strangely - but when he smiles at you, you can’t help but forget your own name.

wc: 6k

warnings/tags: mentions of blood and violence, swearing, pining, stripping, strip club, sex workers, sexual fantasy, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f! receiving), pet names, dom!miguel, single father!miguel, teacher!stripper!reader

author’s note: set in the universe where miguel replaces his father!variant with himself. ps - planning on turning this into a series/full fic.

New York

Earth - 9193

Since you could remember, the sky above the city, flecked with struggling stars and choking on itself over clouds of smog like cigarette smoke, had been deep purple. Some called it violet. Others named it plum. They were trying to make a prettier picture of an ugly reality, desperately ignoring the real world that held them captive. The purple held every soul in this city on a taut leash; each time someone was given a little slack, they wandered too far and discovered that, really, they hadn’t ever wanted to stray in the first place. Car bombings every week. Shootings. Back alley guttings. Innocence all but a foreign language to the citizens of New York.

You wished with every bit of you that one day you’d be able to escape and see the real color of the sky. Because deep down you knew, wanted to believe, wished and prayed… that it was not this shade of dark.

Your classroom was one of the only lit rooms here in Washington Elementary School, a beacon through dimly-lit hallways and the even dimmer streets outside your windows. A long, silent exhale managed to escape your lips as you continued to grade your third graders’ spelling tests, using a pink pen to correct their mistakes instead of a red one. You figured it was less harsh, more inviting to be open to learning from where they first failed. Your back was beginning to cramp from sitting in these damn little-kid chairs, your knees practically hugged to your chest due to how low to the floor you were. You would have been at your desk - hell, you would have been home getting ready for your second job right about now - had it not been for the young girl sitting across the table from you.

Gabriella O’Hara was, in your opinion, one of the most intelligent children you’d had the pleasure of teaching. She was quick and clever and friendly, not to mention, captain of her little soccer team funded by the taxes of PTA parents and the grumbling millionaires of the city. She was a frequent flier on your good-behavior list, and her name had made a home for itself on the principal’s honor roll long before she’d landed in your class.

She was a sweetheart, to say the least. She had been raised well by her father - who, uncharacteristically, had been a no show when it came time for pick up two hours ago.

Glancing up from your papers, you smiled gently at Gabriella as she scribbled along her homework page. “Briella, honey,” you said and leaned your chin in your hand. “Why don’t you check to see if your dad texted at all.”

Obediently, Gabriella dug her phone - a little flip-type, despite there being hundreds of smartphones out these days - and clicked the button to scroll through her recent texts. You watched as her face fell, thick brows and full lips pulling downward. “Nothing,” she said and placed her phone back. She looked to you, and it was obvious from the way she squirmed in her seat that her nervous stomach was starting to get the better of her. “I’m kind of scared, Miss Y/N. My daddy’s never late.”

Setting down your pink pen, you reached across the table and placed a hand on her small forearm. You’d stayed late before when parents were late for pick up, or they forgot, or they were too stoned out of their minds to bother, but you had to admit, you were rather worried, as well. Her father had never been late once, not even by five minutes. So two hours was, really, something to bat an eye at. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” you assured her and offered a gentle smile. “He probably just got held up at work. Maybe his phone died.” Your gaze flickered briefly to the windows behind her, strung across with colorful drawings and decorations, as a number of wailing police cars zipped past. When she started to follow your eyes, you added quickly, “I bet he’s on his way right now. Why don’t you finish up your homework so you can have the rest of the evening free when you get home.”

As she went back to her work, you found yourself tapping your fingernail against the table, your gaze stuck to an empty corner across the room. Miguel O’Hara was nothing but punctual, not just to everyday events like after-school pick up, but to every single thing he did. Soccer practice and games. Parent-teacher conferences. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him to be an hour early to that fancy job of his at Alchemax every Monday through Friday. He was a perfectionist, signing every grade card check and permission slip with the neatest signature you’d ever seen. And it was a feat to marvel at, considering he was a single father.

Once, at a soccer practice, you’d heard from a few of the mothers who had nothing better to do than gossip that he’d moved himself and Gabriella over from Queens years ago when he was hired as a geneticist. Her mother had apparently left them when she was born, and he’d done everything from that moment on for the good of his little girl.

You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself he was, by far, the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. Cheekbones placed high on his face, wide, broad shoulders, a sinewy frame that nearly challenged the doorframes he walked through. He was friendly, sure. But that was all you knew. You’d never been able to get close enough to know much else. An enigma to your curious mind, Miguel was nothing short of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to put together and see the bigger picture for yourself.

Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to wind back into the present. God, you needed to get a fucking grip. Crushing on the father of one of your students? Fucking pathetic. You had a boyfriend, for God’s sake.

You had just begun to grade your papers again, nearing the end of your stack, when there came the sounds of footsteps pounding against the tile floor of the hallway outside. They were jogging, approaching your room at an alarming rate. You stood, thinking it was the janitor having locked himself out of his closet again, and prepared to fetch your keys when a much different - yet no less welcome - figure filled the doorway.

“Hi, daddy,” said Gabriella as Miguel O’Hara entered your classroom.

You looked up, lips parted as you took him in. God, he was stunning. Somewhere around six feet with dark, somewhat-tamed hair that matched his tan skin and the thick brows sitting above his sloped eyes, he stood with a chest that rose and caved rapidly, like he’d run through the entire school searching for your room. Which he shouldn’t have - he knew the classroom his own daughter was in. Didn’t he?

“Oh, baby,” Miguel said and rounded the table so quickly you could have blinked and missed it. He hauled her up into his arms like she was nothing but a sack of flour and hugged her tight to his chest, almost like he was trying to mold the feeling of her to himself. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” As if just realizing you were in the room, watching the pair with a small smile, he set his daughter back down and pulled her backpack from the back of her chair. “Pack up your things, okay? We’ll go home in just a minute.”

He approached you where you stood beside your desk loading your purse, and you swore your heart skipped a beat as he towered over you. Thick, corded muscles and a frame that made your stomach churn excitedly, he was the perfect picture of a fucking masterpiece. “Hi,” he said in a low tone, meant for you to hear and not Gabriella. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here. Time got away from me, and when I got here, the front doors were locked.” He took a breath. “Thank you. For watching her, I mean.”

Forcing your heart to calm its thundering in the confines of your chest, you grinned up at him brightly. “It’s not a problem, Mister O’Hara. I was happy to.” You decided to say nothing about the fact that it was unlike him to lose track of time. He wore a watch that you recognized as one of the latest, expensive versions that were magnetic, not electric, so it was incapable of stopping. How exactly did time get away from a man who revolved around it? “I’m sure she’s going to crash when you get home, anyway. She had a big day.”

Miguel blinked a few times and placed a hand on his hip, jutting it out slightly. Fuck, you wished he wouldn’t do that. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. We had a soccer scrimmage against one of the other classes today and she pulled the winning goal. Then there was the assembly over fire safety, but I’m sure you saw that in the handout last week.”

His lips remained parted for a long moment as his dark, umber gaze traveled across the stack of next week’s announcement handouts. “Right,” he said after a moment or two. “Right. Do, uh… do you think I could have another one of those? For this week. And maybe next week’s, too. Has that been sent home already?”

Giving him a rather crooked smile, you opened a drawer in your desk and produced the light green paper with last week’s announcements. Then you stacked it beneath next week’s and extended it toward his hulking frame. “Sorry if this seems a little… personal, Mister O’Hara,” you said as he took the papers, “but are you feeling alright? I really don’t mean any offense, but you seem a little… off.”

Tilting his head slightly, Miguel seemed to hesitate, fumbling with his answer in his head. He was frozen for a brief moment before your attentions were drawn across the classroom, where Gabriella zipped up her backpack and began to trudge toward the door. “I’m alright,” he said as he turned back to you. “I just, uh… I hit my head this morning. Been a little out of sorts, but I’ll be alright.”

“Daddy,” whined Gabriella under her breath. “I’m tired.”

“Okay, princesa,” he said and met her at your door. After slinging her backpack over his own shoulder and taking her hand, he glanced back at you. “Thank you again…” You watched as his eyes flickered to your name written across the whiteboard. “...Miss Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Mister O’Hara.” A few more words sat on your tongue, desperately trying to fight against your lips and jump out before the moment escaped. You tried to fight them down, but eventually they won the battle and spilled forth. “And - and you can just call me Y/N.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, and you thought briefly that you had crossed a line you had been unable to see. Then he smiled gently, his full lips spreading into a gentle grin. He opened his mouth to say something in return before Gabriella pulled him out the door and into the hallway. You listened as their voices and the sounds of their footsteps grew quieter before silencing, then turned away and finished gathering your things.

On your way out of the building, while slipping through the front doors, you noticed the steel bolt lock keeping them shut after dark had been snapped entirely in two - as if someone had pulled on the door hard enough to break the lock on their own.

You figured it to have been a couple students who got their hands on their parents’ bolt cutters and made a mental note to ask the janitor for a replacement.

Once you got to your car and flipped the engine, you took a breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. In that breath, you willed yourself to switch into the alternate persona you took on after the school days, after the sun had set and the night really came alive from its demented, hungover state during the lightest hours. You pushed your students into the back of your mind, your plans for tomorrow and upcoming projects and due dates into the recesses of your brain. You shoved back thoughts of Miguel O’Hara and everything about how much you wanted to fucking reverse time so that he could smile at you like he had tonight all over again.

It was time to really work, now.

The Menagerie was a club on the northeast side of the Financial District, where the warehouse fires and muggings weren’t quite as common. Police forces cruised through here more often than, say, Harlem or Queens; the people who ran the city had to keep their most well-paid workers protected and thriving, right? Who else would steal from the hands of the poor and throw it all away the first chance they got?

Thrumming, thundering music like a pulse, like the club itself was alive with the blood of money and alcohol pumping through it, pounded from speakers and shook the walls in their very foundations. Neon lights like jilted, water-colored sunlight shone from corners along the ceilings, creating shadows like both nightmares and dreams along the walls and the faces of the patrons. The bar was overflowing. Security was chasing their own tails. The place was packed. Everyone who was anyone wanted to get into The Menagerie, because between its four walls and roof, you could be anyone you wanted to be.

It was law in this gilded cage that everyone was to wear a mask, its paint and diamonds and ribbons designed to depict animals. Security wore the full-bodied faces of lions. Bartenders and servers played dress-up with rimmed eye gaps as raccoons. Guests were allowed to pick a mask ranging from creatures that roamed the sky to those that crawled the earth. And the girls - the girls were exotic, majestic things that no one would mistake for anything else. They were tigresses and peacocks, they were arctic foxes and lynxes, any animal that had long since gone missing or extinct in this world of yours. Why go searching for the real thing, when they could come here and find the women?

The Menagerie was not a club. It was a cage, for animals so desperate to get out they had bent the bars in an attempt to escape.

Staring at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, you gingerly affixed the golden mask to your face so that it would stay spread across your features while you danced and entertained. The hard, fake porcelain covered your forehead and nose, leaving your mouth free for the lips and tongues that would attempt to claim yours as their own. Orange and gold butterfly wings blossomed from the center of the mask, disguising you as the endangered insect everyone else seemed to have forgotten about; the Monarch. Fluttering and beautiful upon the wind, never easy to catch.

That was, unless they flew right into a spider’s web.

To your left, a few of the other girls were perfecting their makeup and adjusting their outfits - what little outfits you all had. Zara, known throughout the club as the Panther, caught your eye in the mirror and flashed you a sharp smile.

“You seem quiet tonight,” she said and ran a stick of gloss over her lips. She examined herself close in her handheld. “Something on your mind?”

A few of the other girls tried to inconspicuously listen in, able to sniff out gossip from miles away. Perhaps in here, you all were a little bit more animal than human, after all.

Forcing yourself to smile gently, you waved a ring-garnished hand in Zara’s direction and turned back to your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself like this, despite seeing this version of you all week long. You hoped you never did recognize it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed off.

Across the dressing room, Shawna, the Owl, tisked her tongue and hummed from deep in her throat. “You know you’re an awful liar, girl,” she said from where she sat scrolling through her phone. “We all noticed when you came in an hour later than you do. Something happen tonight?”

Well, fuck. Now everyone was waiting for your answer, waiting to see if it was worth listening into or not.

Pursing your lips in an attempt to show that it was no big deal, despite how much your stomach and your heart and your brain screamed that it wasn’t, you shrugged a shoulder and tried to avoid their gazes. “Nothing too big,” you replied and began to absentmindedly twist the ribbon keeping your mask in place. “Just… had a student stay a little later. Her dad lost track of time.”

“It couldn’t be that Alchemax hunk you’ve been telling us about.”

Fuck - you really learned to keep your cards closer to your chest.

Your silence must have been enough for them to connect the pieces, because a few of them tittered and giggled. A newer girl, who was still earning her way up to being on stage, piped up. “Have you ever talked to him?” she asked. “I mean, besides school-related stuff. Find out if he’s attached?”

“Absolutely not,” you forced out and stood to straighten out your costume. Your breasts were barely covered by the flimsy top and your ass hung out of the bottoms, both orange and black and white, like a monarch butterfly’s designs. Gold fishnet stockings lined your legs, leading down to a set of heels that had taken weeks to not tip over in. You were supposed to wear a cape, a gown-like train, but it was stepped on too much for you to bother with it. “He’s not there to cruise teachers, he’s just trying to help his kid through the third grade.”

“More than you could’ve asked from my dad,” Zara puffed.

God, you thought, yours, too. And your mother, while you were at it. They’d never come to meetings and games and plays like Miguel did. Hell, they hardly ever even remembered to pick you up from school on their good days.

Gabriella really had hit the father lottery.

Shawna shrugged her shoulders as she rose from her seat and picked up her own mask. “Even if that’s all he’s there for,” she said, then pulled the owl-designed porcelain over her face and fixed you with a stare through the eye holes, “doesn’t have to hold you back from at least trying.”

Her words rang in your ears as you carried on with your work that evening. They stuck with you as you danced for drooling men and women who oggled at you from behind their masks, as you ran your fingers down arms to chase bigger tips, as you followed a man who paid top dollar for a private dance.

Her words rattled like bells in your head as you mindlessly ground yourself against your customer, allowing yourself to get lost in your own imagination while you willed yourself to work. You shut your eyes behind your mask and let yourself fall into a dangerous little scenario you cooked up just for yourself.

You imagined not your boyfriend, who was out there in the city somewhere playing with his stupid fucking band to a crowd of three, not of any celebrity crush or model, but of Miguel O’Hara. You imagined him beneath you instead of some man whose breath smelled like expensive alcohol. You thought of him, and his hulking frame, and his powerful thighs you had found yourself staring at anytime he entered your line of sight.

Mind running away with this little fantasy of yours, you ground yourself a little harder against the lap beneath you, pushed your chest further against the chest parallel to yours. In your head, Miguel let out a huffy breath and rested those large hands of his on your hips, slowly but surely guiding your movements until you were riding his thigh. You tried to imagine, so intensely and desperately, how such an event would go.

He would gently, but firmly, help move your hips so that your exposed clit rubbed perfectly against the rough fabric of his jeans. You would keen and arch your back into him, hands running over his sinewy shoulders, as he hitched his leg and sent a powerful jolt of pleasure running through you and right to your core.

“You like that, pretty girl?” he would murmur in your ear, lips brushing along the shell before his tongue, warm and soft and pink and wet, licked against your lobe. “Ride, querida. ‘Til I say you’re done, and then I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”

You would grind your hips against his leg, moaning aloud and unabashedly when he tensed his corded muscle so that you’d have something to hump into. His hands, wide and spread, would wander along your bare back, memorizing the skin there like it was his and his alone, and he would dip his head to attach his lips to your nipple. He’d suck the nub into a hardened bud, then kiss and lick and nibble the skin around it until it was marred with love marks that would darken the following morning, and then he’d switch and give the other one the same kind of attention.

“Miguel,” you’d whimper in a certain kind of tone, and suddenly you’d be on the bed, pulled to the edge so that the globes of your ass hung off and when he kneeled he had access to your cunt bared for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he would say as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and up your inner thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most. “All for me and me alone. Isn’t that right, bebe?”

You wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer at first, not when he would lick a long, wet stripe up the center of your folds and up to your clit. He would expertly find that little bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and fondling with his tongue until you couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan and card your fingers through his dark hair to pull him closer. He would suck on your sweet spot for a while, alternating between licking stripes and adorning it with kisses, before he would slowly drag his long, thick fingers toward your sopping folds.

But he would stop just short.

“Say it,” he would tell you, dark, impenetrable gaze fixated on you from where he kneeled between your legs like a devout believer praying to his one and only love - his goddess. When you would whine and cry from the pausing of his ministrations, he would take his mouth, his wonderful, hot breath, away from your aching cunt. He would cock his head, allowing a bit of hair to fall across his face. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, chica.”

“Miguel,” you would say again, because, really, that was all you could think of to say. “Miguel, please… need you, please…”

He would pull his fingers from your heat, gaze stony and immovable as a mountain standing tall in the midst of a storm. God, not even that could sway him. “Tell me,” he would demand again, this time in a low baritone that made your cunt clench around nothing because goddammit, even his fucking voice could send you into heat like a damn dog. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Now.”

“You,” would come the small, high-pitched answer, tumbling from your lips without another thought that did not involve him. “You, Miguel. Belongs to you. All for you, no one else.” You would babble, desperate to reach your climax before he let you fall back down that incline so, so cruelly, yet so, so deliciously. “Please, Miguel, need you. Need your fingers, anything. Just fuck me, please, handsome, fuck me ‘til I can’t remember my own name.”

He would tilt his head even further, like a predator toying with the prey he’d been chasing after for miles upon miles, before placing a gentle, feather-light kiss upon the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl,” he would say, then attack your clit with his full, thick lips, plunge two of his fingers into your heat, and begin to fuck you into oblivion.

The sound of his fingers constantly edging in and out of your dripping pussy, so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and your ass, would pull the most wonderful and pornographic-sounding moans and whimpers and whines of his name from your throat. Your own slick would coat his digits like honey, so sweet that for a moment he would stop his assault on your divine bundle of nerves and crane his neck to lick up a bit of it from where it dripped down your ass. The flat of his muscle would raise goosebumps along your skin as you cried out for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other buried into the sheets of the bed.

“Miguel,” you would cry and begin to rock your hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers, practically humping his face. He would take it like it was his last meal, returning to his sucking and licking and circling of your clit to send bolt after bolt of pleasure and heaven and everything else in between. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“That’s it,” he would murmur between licks through your soaked folds, feeling as your slick dripped down his wrist. “Say my name, bebe, tell them who’s making you feel this fucking good.”

He would angle his fingers then at just the right angle, his fingertips hitting that perfect, fucking perfect spot deep inside you. Stars would dance in your vision as your mouth would open in a silent scream, unable to get anything out but a tiny wail of heavenly pleasure. You would swear you’d never felt this goddamn good in your life, like you would gladly trade everything in the whole world just to stay here forever. His pace would pick up, aiming for that spot inside of you, and he’d lap at your cunt in a feverish craze, like it was the only thing that would save him from losing his mind.

All too soon, your thighs would begin to tremble and you would feel that beautiful, familiar coil tightening and winding deep within your soul. “Miguel,” you would cry out for the whole world to hear. “Miguel, m’close, I’m so close!”

“Come on, pretty bebe,” he would say between your thighs that would try to wrap around his head in a feeble attempt to pull him closer. “Cum f’me. I want it. All of it.”

His words would send a shockwave of pleasure through you, one that would white out your vision so intensely you would have thought he’d killed you and sent you on your way to the pearly white gates, and you’d have been okay with that. He continued to work you through your orgasm, his pace slowing but never stopping, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along your thighs, your hips, your naval.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking it so well, all for me. Look so pretty all laid out like this, like I could just eat you up. Would you like that, hmm? You want me to just devour you ‘til you’re left shaking and crying my name?”

“Miguel. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“...My name’s not Miguel.”

Your eyes flashed open, suddenly brought back to the real world, pulled away from your fantasy. Through the holes in your monarch mask, you looked down to find your customer staring up at you with wide eyes and popping a boner put there by your mindless rocking against his hips. Feeling your cheeks flush, you slipped off of him and consciously tugged your outfit lower over your ass.

You pursed your lips, attempting to hide how mortified you were. “...That’s going to be another twenty bucks.”

It wasn’t until around one in the morning when you got home to your little apartment squished in a dilapidated little building wedged between two office towers because the landlord had refused to sell the place when they steamrolled the others ten years ago. The lights were off when you slipped inside, and a little piece of yourself inside wilted.

At once, you threw up a wall and dismissed that sinking feeling. Of course he wasn’t going to wait up for you. He’d had a show tonight, and he had another one tomorrow. He was tired.

Not nearly as fucking tired as you, though.

After wiping off your makeup and pulling off the fake little diamonds stuck on your temples, after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, and after pinning a new drawing from one of your students on the fridge despite the fact you knew they’d never see it, you tiptoed back to the cramped little bedroom. You poked your head inside. Ferris, your boyfriend of six months, was spread out across the entire mattress, snoring gently into the fabric of the crumpled sheets.

You swallowed thick. You didn’t want to disturb him. He needed his rest.

You grabbed your phone charger from the wall and your pillow from beneath his arm, then slid on your socks back into the tiny living room. Plopping yourself down on the couch and plugging in your phone, you rolled yourself onto your side and stared at the dark screen. Willing something to happen. Something to come up, someone to reach out.

Because in reality, though you would rather throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge than admit it… you had never felt so alone.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #sony spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv miguel

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey! Ps: love another Lie 🫶🏻 Your writing is so beautiful! I have some fiction ideas and I hope you'd like some 🥹

Imagine Charles in the middle of a race and there is a high speed crash. He's bruised and hurt and may have internal injuries but he wants to get back to the reader in the pitlane asap cause he knows the reader would lose it and as he suspects the reader is in the middle of a panic attack with everyone holding her back and on seeing him she is relieved and breaks down and he's like "you've been crying" and consoles and Hugs her in public. Ps: If you're up for it maybe it could lead to soft consoling nsfw smut?

A Little Longer

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, crash, panic attack, injuries, smut WC: 1.3k

F1 Masterlist

You only looked away for a second, but that was all it took to miss the crash.

One moment Charles was setting best sector timings, and on the way for the fastest lap, and the next his car was spinning off the track and slamming into the tecpro barrier.

A collective gasp had rippled through the garage and you had nearly broken your neck with how quick your head snapped back to the screens. For a moment you couldn’t even see him through the dust from the gravel pit he had caught the edge of. In that moment a hundred thoughts passed through your head. In that moment a thousand questions followed, growing darker and darker as everyone waited for the dust to clear.

All ability to function was erased as you remained frozen in place, eyes fixated on the screens, unblinking, waiting for any sign of movement.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think.

You hadn’t realised you were moving until Joris grabbed your arm and you found yourself under the harsh sunlight of the pit lane instead of the garage. “Let me go,” you begged with a broken voice. “I need to get to him.”

The edge of your sight was fuzzy, the images blurry as tunnel vision set in and Joris shook your shoulders. His lips were moving but no sound penetrated the noise in your head or the whoosh of your pulse that seemed to be thump in your ears.

“I need to get back to my girlfriend.”

“This is your health we are talking about, Mr Leclerc. You need to be thoroughly checked out at the medical centre.”

“Later,” Charles argued as he limped over to the motorcycle, his hand clutching his ribs. “You don’t know her, she will be worried.”

Every bump on the path sent a jolt of pain across Charles ribs and he bit back the groan that followed. He had to focus on his breathing as he ignored the crowd watching his return to the pits, he couldn’t spare a second to think about all the people he had disappointed with his crash. 

All he could think about was you.

He immediately knew he was right to worry when the motorbike puttered along the pit lane and he saw a ring of his crew trying to keep the media from seeing the scene behind them. Your cheeks were damp with your tears but your lips were cracked from the rapid breaths you were struggling to take. Joris was at your side, the relief in his eyes notable when he looked up and found Charles pushing his way through the crowd.

“Mon cœur, you’ve been crying,” Charles whispered as he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing soft kisses over your damp cheeks.

“Charles?” 

He hated how broken your voice was, broken because you had been screaming for him until your throat was raw. He held you tighter despite the protest his body made but he couldn’t stop the sharp intake he took when life returned to you and you threw your arms around his waist. 

“You’re hurt!” you gasped as you leapt back and kept him at an arms width so you could inspect him. “You should be with the medics. What if you’re bleeding internally? I can’t live without you, Char.”

He chuckled softly and cupped your face so he could silence your ramblings with a kiss. “I’ll see them soon, I just need to hold you first. Please?”

You couldn’t deny him, not when his green eyes looked so blue. Lacing your fingers with his you gave him a small nod and finally noticed where you had ended up. You couldn’t remember leaving the garage and Charles draped his arm over your shoulder, turning you back to the shelter of the garage when he saw your eyes widen in realisation.

“I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” you mumbled as he closed the door to his driver room.

“I know, mon cœur,” he replied softly as his hands ran up and down your back soothingly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your trembling fingers reached for his face, tracing the creaselines his balaclava had left over his cheeks and when his eyes fluttered shut your thumb brushed away the dust that had clung to his lashes. 

“I couldn’t see you.” His eyes opened at the sound of your voice. “It was the worst feeling in the world. I couldn’t see if you were okay or if…”

Charles chased away the lingering thought as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “I’m here, I’m here,” he reminded you as he stepped backwards, taking you with him to the couch where he sank into the soft cushions with a wince before tugging you onto his lap.

You tried to pull away as your legs settled either side of his thighs but his arms locked around your waist. “You’re hurt, baby. You need to let the medics check you.”

“Soon.” His hands followed the curve of your body until he reached the hem of your dress and they slowly began to climb once more. His palms were still warm from his gloves and the touch sent heat waves rippling across your skin as he inched higher up your thighs. “Please, let me hold you a little longer.”

It was unfair of him. Truly. He knew exactly how his touch affected you and when his thumbs teased the line of lace between your thighs you couldn’t think clearly enough to deny him. Your response was dragging the zip of his race suit down and his hands left your body only long enough to pull his sleeves down and shove the material past his waist. 

Time began to work strangely as the urgency to feel each other crashed into the need to savour the moment. Your panties were pushed aside in the rush as Charles’s strong hands guided your body down to meet his and then time slowed as you stared into the gold and green eyes of the man you loved more than anything.

Whatever he saw in your eyes made him swallow deeply and bury his face in the crook of your neck, kissing his way back to your lips where he reminded you once more, “I’m here, amour.”

You returned his kiss, combing your fingers through his hair as it deepened and your hips began to move slowly. There was an awareness of his injuries that kept you from moving any faster and after a minute Charles’ impatient hands gripped your waist and set the pace for you until you forgot about the crash completely.

“I love you, Charles,” you moaned as your core clenched around him and he stole the soft sounds with his lips as he joined you in ecstasy.

“I love you too.” He sighed contentedly as he pulled you as close as possible against him, your entire front pressed to his, but the sigh turned to a groan of pain.

“Medics, now,” you ordered as you climbed off his lap and offered your hands to pull him to his feet. “No more procrastinating.”

“What we did wasn’t procrastinating, amour,” he managed to tease as he held his rib cage with one hand while he pulled his race suit back up with the other.

You groaned and ran a hand over your face. “You’re not allowed to joke until the doctors have cleared you, Charles.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Lacing your fingers in his, he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the door. “Let’s go and ease your mind, my sweet.”

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc smut

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi #bts #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #bts scenarios #bts yoongi #yoongi angst #hurt/comfort #suga fluff #bts fluff #suga angst #suga fic #abandoment issues #bts imagines #bts fic

[barnes1031]

oh baby!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem! Reader. 

Summary: Reader found some pictures of bucky as a baby and ends up more in love than she already was. 

Before reading: English is not my first language so sorry for the spelling mistakes, Everything that is written here is with the help of the translator.

You was sitting on the couch using her phone when Steve walked in with a box in his arms. 

"Hey, Tony wanted to trash this old stuff, you want to take a look before you throw it all away?"

Steve smiles dropping the box on the table in front of her before giving her a smile and walking away. He nods again and says goodbye, you smile back at him before nodding as well,you put your phone aside and start going through the box, you open it inspecting what was inside before picking up a notebook, its cover had a red color with gold engraved letters almost blurring, You blow a little to disperse the dust and your fingers caress the golden letters and then you open the notebook after several pages looking for something interesting, you smile when you see several pictures among them some babies and what seemed to be Howard Stark with Steve and Bucky. 

With still a smile on your lips, you get up from the couch close the box and walk straight to the room you share with your boyfriend, without waiting for permission you enter the room in search of your beloved. 

"Bucky?"

You sit on the bed as you wait for him to come out of the bathroom, Bucky heard you and quickly came out to see what you needed. 

"Yes, doll?"

He smiles at you before walking over to you, you see him sit down next to you and take your hands.

 "Were you crying?"

he sits down next to you as he takes your hands and looks at your worried face. 

You let out a chuckle as he shakes his head. 

 "There's nothing wrong with me, just.... Look." 

You take the pictures next to you before showing them to him, Bucky smiles before taking the pictures in his hand and kisses your hundred.

"Where did you find them?" 

He raises an eyebrow as he continues to look at the pictures, he thought he had no memory of when he was a baby anymore.

"Steve handed me a box and I found them while going through them."

You shrug sheepishly, bucky laughs and pushes you onto the bed still holding the picture in his hand. 

 "doll, were you crying about that?"

You laugh and then deny as you stroke his hair falling over your face. 

 "No, it's just that you were SO CUTE as a baby!!! And even now, babe!" 

You let out a giggle and push him off turning him around, now you're on top of him taking over. 

 "you're so cute I cry, babe."

You say with a smile, bucky leans over to kiss you sweetly.

"that's not true, you are so cute and cuddly I can cry about it".

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

PS: I wrote it a long time ago, it's the first time i posted this so I'm embarrassed, I still don't know whether to edit it or fix things but this is how it turned out in the end. lol

Everything is here, it is written by me, I don't need anyone to translate it, so all rights reserved, if you see this same writing or similar to this please tag me!! It is my original writing.

Xoxo-shay 😽💋

#bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky x female reader #i dont fucking know #first fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #xd #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader

[prettylittlels]

Special Night

summary: while performing your latest song, Houdini, at the Golden Globes, your performance drives people crazy.

(tom blyth x singer!reader)

a/n: this song has been stuck in my head for the past few weeks and i needed to make a scenario w it. hope you like it!

ps: i'm akso running out of ideas so please send requests!!!

🪻🪩🌃🔮🎶

Tonight, I'm going to perform at the golden globes gala. My latest song, Houdini, has captured everyone's attention and soared thorugh the billboard Top 100. The problem isn't performing the song: I know every lyric and practised every detail of the choreography to the brim. The problem is who I'm performing it to. Hundreds of celebrities I admire and thousands and thousands of people around the world are going to be watching me sing.

-Y/n!- my manager interrupts my thoughts -You're on in two-

-Thanks, Diane - I say back, and start my vocal exercises.

In the middle of my preparation, I listen the host of the night announce my appearance. I smoothen out my little black dress and, slowly, I make my way to the stage. The lights are low and I still can't see anything farther than the edge of the stage. My earbud informs me the song will start in 3, 2, 1...

I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

The crowd immediately starts roaring as the song plays for the first time. My choreography is catching everyone's eye. I feel the confidence soaring inside of me. This wasn't so bad as I thought it would be, huh?

I come and I go

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows

Catch me or I go Houdini

The celebrities in front of me stand up one by one and dance to the rythm of the music. Since I was well known for interacting a lot with fans during concerts, why not do the same thing now?

Time is passin' like a solar eclipse

I descend the stairs in one of the stage's corners and the crowd screams even more. Searching for someone to dance with, I find first Anya Taylor Joy, dressed in a beautiful pale blue gown, singing along with me.

See you watchin' and you blow me a kiss

It's your moment, baby, don't let it slip

Come in closer, are you readin' my lips?

I make eye contact with her and blow her a kiss, following the lyrics. Her cheeks go red and laughs with me. I go closer to her and keep on singing along, until I signal to her to look at the camera and strike a pose with me.

They say I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows

Catch me or I go Houdini

Moving on from Anya, I walk up a couple tables more. Next, I set my eyes on Pedro Pascal, dancing to the rythm with his eyes closed. I look surprised and the camera points towards where I'm looking. The crowd laughs as we dance together.

If you're good enough, you'll find a way

Maybe you could cause a girl to change her ways

Do you think about it night and day?

Maybe you could be the one to make me stay

Pedro spins me around sloppily and I sing and I give him a kiss on the cheek and continue walking down the carpeted hall. The choreography makes an appearance again, with a sexy twist: I drop to my knees suddenly and sing the bridge. I get up again and the most beautiful man fills my vision.

Everything you say is soundin' so sweet (ah)

But do you practice everything that you preach? (Ah)

I stare and get closer to him while singing. He sends a big gummy smile towards me and I try to keep my composure. I notice he's sitting next to Hunter Schafer, my good friend. I make a mental reminder to ask her about it later.

I need something that'll make me believe (ah)

If you got it, baby, give it to me

I walk a little more until I'm looking down at his face and bend down while still singing. Out of impulse, I grab his chin gently and bring him in closer so it looks likr we're kissing. Our lips graze each other's and I feel like an electric discharge electrocuted my entire body. I pull away at the last second and continue walking and dancing, trying not to come back to him.

They say I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go (I come and I go)

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows (I'm not here for long)

Catch me or I go Houdini

Everyone's mouths are open after my little stunt. I smirk to myself and I decide that's it for today.

If you're good enough, you'll find a way

Maybe you could cause a girl to change her ways

Do you think about it night and day?

Maybe you could be the one to make me stay

I go up the stairs one last time to finish off the performance. The people are cheering for me again. But right now, I only care about one of them now. I search for the mystery man with my eyes all over the place, he's nowhere to be found.

I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go (I come and I go)

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows (I'm not here for long)

Catch me or I go Houdini

Screams and shouts fill the space when I finish the song. The camera focuses on the people who I've danced with and projects it onto the screens. First, Anya appears smiling and waves to the cameraman. Later, Pedro is still giddy from dancing and whoops loudly. Finally, Tom Blyth, as it says on the bottom of the screen, is clapping like everyone else. There are rests of a blush in his cheeks, but when he looks at the camera, he winks at it and lifts his hand with his pinky and thumb up, signaling a phone, mouthing the words "call me".

The camera switches back to me. I blow the last kiss to the audience and, before leaving, I make a "T" with my hands, and after a second I create a heart.

#Spotify #book recommendations #bookworm #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #x reader #tom blyth #singer!reader

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Sharing a flight with skz ‗ ❍

Pairings : OT8 X gn reader (Bang Chan x reader, Lee Know x Reader, Changbin x reader, Hyunjin x reader, Han x reader, Felix x reader, Seungmin x reader, IN x reader)

Genre/warnings : none :)

Summary : How I think the Stray Kids members would be like during a flight with their s/o

Word count : 2.5k

A/n : Just a silly little idea that came to my head as someone who's had her fair share of long and shorter/lonely and non flights. Very random but still hope you enjoy!

ps: There could be grammar errors. Please DO NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedbacks if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan ‗ ❍

Chan would absolutely be all giddy and excited about this vacation, but most of all to be able to spend time with his s/o.

You two would spend a lot of the time talking and discussing the trip, especially on the colture of the place and maybe try to learn a few words of the language!

Also, organization is a key word, for sure. He mentioned how he hates to not have things under control and prepared whenever he has to do something, so. You would probably already have a list, if not a whole routine prepared for each day.

You would also remind yourselves to not overdo it, or else it will become like a work trip. Mentioning work, you also made him promise to leave his job alone and get his mind off of it while you're on vacation.

During the flight you would watch something together, probably lighthearted like a romcom or an animated movie. You would also share earphones to stay even closer to each other, lovebirds

At some point you will have to rest though, and if you're lucky you'll end up hugging and napping quietly together. But If you were to fall asleep before him though, he would try to sneak out his laptop and work on his music, still making sure to have you close. Maybe hugging you to his chest with one arm, or even just reaching out to play absentmindedly with your hair (or ears, you know how he does it). He'd be the type to raise the armrest between you two to be more comfortable.

You would scold him (lovingly ofc) when you wake up but he'd defend himself saying that he had nothing else to do so might as well do something useful. You'd forgive him on the condition that he would get some sleep later :(

Minho ‗ ❍

I'm not a hundred percent sure if his fear of heights also impacts his mood during a flight, but regardless I lowkey think that he would make everything in his power to make the time pass faster. Also most probably would avoid the window seat or keep the lid shut.

He wouldn't be the most talkative in general I think, considering that you were sharing the space with strangers. He would rather sleep or watch something to distract himself, Something that he either has already seen and loves which will keep him entertained, or maybe something new that could get him interested/hooked.

He would absolutely have snacks in his bag regardless of the airline serving food on board. Especially if you had any favorites or happened to be a bit picky with food.

Yes I feel like he would definetly be quieter than usual, but it's okay because you understand him and don't really mind as soon as he's comfortable.

Would definitely let you sleep on him, but wouldn't want to mess with the security belt or make any changes with the seats. Just to be sure. Something that he would do though is trying to make you as comfortable as possible; folding a jacket in a spoecific way to make a pillow, or straight up bringing one with him, would allow you to put your legs over his, make sure that the headrest isn't uncomfortable for your neck and so on.

You, on the other hand, would also try your best to get him to relax and spend the flight peacefully. When the plane does land though, he'd start smiling and be in such an hilariously good mood that you couldn't help but laugh at him, teasing him just a bit for being so previously anxious.

Changbin ‗ ❍

Changbin would make the most of it. Literally. He would be absolutely delighted to enjoy what he essentially considers a few hours of rest. I feel like he's one of those people that would ask for food seconds or multiple refills for drinks, use every single one of the freebies that are offered by the airline like a sleeping mask, blanket, pillow, headphones.

Of course he would have his own stuff too but he would just refused to use them. He'd look at you with his arms behind his head, a raised eyebrow "This flight costed more than my left arm, might as well enjoy it" then he'd smile at you going "Relax, baby"

Would absolutely be knocked out after an hour in the air. I don't know, he just seems someone that values his sleep and even more when he has the chance to take a break. Also because he'd probably get hyperactive as soon as you landed.

He's the type to recline the seat (still respectfully ofc) and literally make his own little improvised bed to have the nap of a lifetime, even better if he has someone to hug.

Other than that though I feel like you would also be talking a lot about the vacation, telling each other the different places that you wanted to visit. The conversation would change direction about ten times though, because you just enjoy each other's company so much that you end up spending hours just chatting and laughing.

Changbin would probably be very phyisical, even in small things. And a gentleman at the same time. For example; Standing up to let you pass whenever you had to get up from your seat, keeping a hand at the small of your back when you walked, always lets you go first when walking/entering a car/going up the stairs.

Hyunjin ‗ ❍

Hyunjin is someone who I imagine would be pretty chill on a plane. He would have to keep himself entertained in some way though, for sure. So if he's not sleeping for most of the time (by choice, I think) he's definetly keeping his mind busy. I truly think that he would despise to get bored.

You would make conversation about your trip and especially the places that you planned on visiting. Museums and touristic places would be at the top of the list. He probably already looked them all up already and has plans on specific photos to take once he gets there.

I think that it would be likely for you two to watch a movie together. Something pretty serious like a drama or a romantic movie. Regardless of the movie being good or bad it would absolutely spark conversation, even more so if the people involved made some pretty questionable things throughout the movie, then the topics could go on for hours.

He would also most probably have a little sketchbook with him and a couple of pencils, just to practice, scribble or try to capture something interesting to him. I imagine him sliding it your way, silently asking you to play silly games, like tic tac toe, the hangman and so on.

If you were also an artist or someone that likes to play around with drawing a bit, I can imagine you two working on different things quietly for a while and then showing it to each other.

I'm not sure of how much of a cuddler he would be in this case, but he would do some small pda especially when it's just the two of you in your seats. Like playing with your hand or fingers, pecking your cheek/head/temple, or playing with your hair.

Overall I think that it would be a super relaxing experience, just really fun and wholesome :'')

Jisung ‗ ❍

Han is another one who is afraid of heights so I think similarly to Minho for the whole seat placement thing. But,,, maybe he would still want to peek at the sky every once in a while. Maybe.

He is also someone who would be pretty quiet and reserved in these type of 'public' places, but he'd instantly get way more relax when he is seated next to whoever he's with.

You would have some casual conversation about your trip but mostly I think that he would be someone that just wants to relax as much as possible. He wouldn't want to be 'tied' to busy schedules or too many planned things, he'd go 'with the flow'. But again you would definetly talk about how happy you are to be together and be able to have some fun in a new place.

Could go from very talkative to a comfortable silence. You could easily do two different things but still interact once in a while, for example you could be reading a book and he could be watching a movie (I think something intense? Like a drama or a thriller/horror movie) and suddenly you'd hear him gasp softly at a plot twist and when you look up he would be looking at you with an overdramatic expression, making you laugh.

Very likely to share earphones or a playlist to listen to the same things at the same time, again while doing different things or maybe playing a game together.

He would definetly be the person to get a coffe refill, get hyperactive for a solid twenty minutes and then fall asleep on you suddenly. He seems to have a thing for laying on people's laps so he could do that, even better if you played gently with his hair or stroked his arm to give that bit of extra comfort. He would definitely do the same for you though, "Of course baby, come here" the unprovoked english (he totally does that, fight me) would make you laugh before he held you in his arms :')

Felix ‗ ❍

One thing that's assured with him is physical contact. I genuinely think that you would constantly be all over each other no matter what you're doing.

But not in a gross/cheesy way like making out and stuff like that, I mean like sleeping on each other, playing with your hands, random small kisses or nuzzling, or simply involuntarily leaning closer or bumping onto each other when you're laughing. Just... touch.

I also think that you would come prepared with things to spend your time with. Like previously downloading games, music, videos and so on. Mainly to listen to/watch together. Doesn't have to be a movie necessarily, it could also be a sepcific youtube video about a topic that you're both interested in, or something along those lines.

He is also someone who I think is gonna be eager to search up places to visit. Photography spots, touristic sites, restaurants, shopping or fashionables streets. He would definetly want to buy something, if anything to have a memory of your vacation.

If you do end up watching something though, I think that he would like something that keeps him in a good mood and maybe have a few laughs over, like an animated movie, a superhero/action movie or a comedy.

Now, nap time would definetly happen and it's gonna be a tangle of limbs that's for sure. Him laying on you or you on him, hugging, heads against each other and all that. Would also definetly raise the armrest to stay closer.

He would definetly keep reminding you how excited he is for this trip, to see new things and places and mainly to spend time with you. I have an half idea that he would lowkey love to match clothing with you, even if in a subtle way, or just to lend you some of his things and maybe you to him? Like a pair of sunglasses, a jacket, jewelery and so on.

His main missions would be spend quality time with you, do lots and lots of photos, buy both you and himself a present and overall enjoy a new place. Cc

Seungmin ‗ ❍

In his case I feel like this trip wouldn't have been planned or chosen for no reason. Wether it was because one of his favoite sports teams were playing a match there, or because maybe that specific period of the year was gonna be special for the country that you were about to visit. Or again, it could be a place that he has already visited when he was a kid, or that he always wanted to visit. Wathever the reason, it must've been something meaningful to him.

This would definelty be a topic of conversation that could get more or less deep depending on the context. Regardless, he would be very excited for the trip and what it would mean to him.

He would also tell you how glas he was that he could share this experience with someone who means a lot to him. "Aw Minnie, so cute" you'd lovingly tease him for being so sweet and he'd roll his eyes trying to hide a smile and the blush of his cheeks.

On the flight itself you wouldn't do anything out of the ordinary. You'd watch a movie or a drama (even better if it's one that you were currently watching) and chill for a couple of hours until it ended or you got bored. You would be both pretty caugh up with the plot so you wouldn't interact much, but you'd definitely be leaning against him comfortably.

After that you would probably sleep for a while, still hugged and maybe sharing a blanket, You'd still try to keep some composure since at the end of the day you weren't in a private place, but other people were around you. I don't see an extreme amount of pda coming from Seungmin in public, if any at all.

After waking you'd ask for a hot drink, could be coffe or something else, but he would definelty ask for an americano. You'd make small talk comfortably and even before you realized it it would be time to land and for your special trip to begin, and for him to make new memories to write down in his diary.

Jeongin ‗ ❍

Innie seems like a person who also enjoys pretty things and having fun. So the destination would have to reflect that. I think that he would like to pick a big metropolitan city where he could find anything and everything.

He looks like the person that would want to make many experiences; from trying new foods, walk around pretty streets, the fashion district, some historical monuments, restaurants and cafés and overall have a relaxing time. He would probably want to take lots of pictures and make some nice memories, but nothing further than that.

You would talk a lot about it during your flight in a generalistic manner, joking around a lot and just having fun. He also seems to be the type to be keeping to himself with strangers and as a result wouldn't be big on pda either. At most he would allow you to lean on him to rest.

With Jeongin I'm not totally sure if he would even be down to watch something in the first place. I see him more as a chilling and listening to music type. He would just close his eyes and enjoy his own playlists to spend the time, or ASMRs if he wanted to simply relax or sleep for a while.

Overall he wouldn't throughtly enjoy the flight itself because he would get bored and pretty annoyed that he can't move around, so I think that his mood would improve a lot when you actually land.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz blurbs #silentcryracha #stray kids imagines #stray kids headcanons #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #my writing #lee know x reader #bang chan x reader #hyunjin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #changbin x reader #felix x reader #han jisung x reader #hyung line skz #maknae line skz

[milfsloverblog]

Life Eternal (part 1)

Can you hear me say your name forever?

Larissa Weems x former student fem!reader

A/N: Sapphic Yearning at its finest. Don’t fall for your teachers, kids, it will ruin ya! Might be inspired by real events…Title from one of my favourite Ghost song, which you should really listen to if you want to get the full experience. Thinking of turning this into a multiple chapter fic, let me know! <3

ps: really want to insist on the fact that Larissa and reader’s relationship was platonic. Larissa was nothing more than a mentor to reader.

You had been staring at the letter on your lap for the past twenty minutes. Reading it again and again, as if you had not read it a hundred times since receiving it nearly two weeks ago.

“Dear Miss…” You sighed loudly and pushed the letter away, your eyes falling on the signature at the bottom of the page “Sincerely yours, Larissa Weems.”

You emptied the glass of wine you’d poured yourself hoping to find some courage in it. Of course, you were expecting the invite to arrive at some point, it always arrived around the end of May. At least it had for the past five years.

Class reunions. You hated the mere thought of it. Surely the ones that used to be popular loved those reunions, but you…No, you couldn’t bare the thought of seeing her, not after leaving the way you had.

Would she recognise you, you wondered as you threw your jacket on and took a last look in the mirror. You hadn’t changed much in five years and it seemed like she hadn’t forgotten about you. And you definitely hadn’t forgotten about her.

You didn’t even know what made you change your mind after five years of not attending. Perhaps it was the fact that the letter had been handwritten this time instead of typed, or maybe you had been hypnotised by the scent of her perfume that lingered in your room after you’d opened the envelope.

Now that you thought about it, moving out of Jericho had been both a blessing and a curse. You hadn’t moved very far, only a twenty minutes ride, but it was enough to ensure you wouldn’t accidentally stumble on her while doing your grocery shopping.

It was silly, that need you’d felt to run away from Larissa. You knew it was silly and yet you couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t have kept acting like she meant nothing more to you than a mentor.

———

“Mom, please…” You had pleaded with your mother, refusing to get out of bed. “I’m telling you I can’t go. I feel too sick.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You did feel sick, but not physically. Your illness was way more insidious than a simple stomachache or a common cold.

“Principal Weems will be so disappointed not to see you.” Your mother had said, standing with her hands on her hips. “I’m sure the poor woman has been impatiently waiting to see you graduate. And now you will let a little sickness take that away from her?”

She always found a way to rub salt into your wounds, even unknowingly. She had no idea. She had no idea that Larissa was the reason why you were refusing to get out of bed that morning.

“Please.” You had said again “Just go and get my diploma. Tell her I will visit whenever I can.”

Now that was a lie. You knew you would never visit Larissa again. You’d made up your mind a while ago already.

Your mother had eventually given up and attended your graduation ceremony alone. Principal Weems had been nothing but professional, your mom had told you, although she’d noticed that Larissa’s smile had seemed a bit forced when she had explained that you were sick and couldn’t be there to receive your diploma.

—————————

You were snapped out of your memory by a car loudly honking behind you, signaling that the light had been green for a few seconds now. How long had you been zoning out for? You hadn’t been to Nevermore in five years and yet it seemed like your brain still remembered the road as if you had left yesterday.

The car park was already nearly full when you arrived and there was no doubt you would be one of the last invitees to show up.

A shiver ran down your spine when you walked through the gate under the Nevermore sign and entered the yard. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just walked into the lion’s den, that the trap was closing in on you.

Looking around at the people you recognised a few familiar faces, werewolves, sirens, and gorgons catching up together instead of segregating themselves like they used to.

Someone calling your name made you turn around, your eyes falling on a face you’d recognise anywhere.

“Enid!” Your lips immediately spread into a smile. She hadn’t changed at all, still that bubbly young woman dressed all in pink.

She pulled you in a tight hug and you grimaced a little, locking eyes with Wednesday who gave you a knowing look.

“So, you two…” You asked when Enid eventually let you go.

“Yes!” Enid answered excitedly as she wrapped her arm around Wednesday’s waist, a small blush creeping on the Addams’ cheeks.

And it made sense, you thought, that the gloomy girl would fall for the bubbly one. Isn’t that what had happened to you too, after all?

Enid excused herself, saying she was going to get some drinks for the three of you. A silence fell between Wednesday and you but it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“I knew you would come someday. Enid kept saying we would never see you at a class reunion, but I knew you’d eventually come.” The Addams girl said. “We can’t run from our feelings forever, can we?”

Wednesday smirked devilishly when you looked at her with wide eyes. If she knew, if she had been able to realise, who else had?

Enid reappeared before you could say anything, handing you a cup of what looked like white wine.

“The handwritten invitation was a nice touch.” You said after taking a sip and letting out a small chuckle. “I do wonder where she found the time to handwrite so many invitations though.”

Enid frowned and looked at her girlfriend before looking back at you.

“You received a handwritten invitation?” She asked. “Because we only got the good old computer typed one…Why would she send you a hand-“ Wednesday gently put her hand on the blonde’s mouth and whispered something in her ear, which had Enid nodding and keeping quiet.

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and all eyes turned towards the entrance door from which Principal Weems had just walked out to step onto the podium.

She didn’t need a podium, she was already towering over everyone there but that’s simply how Larissa was. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was or how she looked, something she had desperately tried to teach you when the two of you were close.

“All your life there will be people trying to push you down.” You remembered her telling you, her fingers holding onto your chin to make sure you were looking at her. “And yes, it will hurt. You may cry if you need to, but you can never give up. And don’t you ever be ashamed of who you are. You are incredible, my darling, don’t you forget that.”

Larissa’s voice resonated through the yard, commanding everyone’s attention. With unwavering poise, she delivered her speech, thanking everyone for coming that day. Every eye in the crowd was fixated on her, hanging onto her words.

The principal’s smile widened a little when she noticed Enid and Wednesday, only to falter for a second when her blue eyes eventually locked with yours.

It felt like time had stopped. Like it was just the two of you and the others had ceased existing. It always felt that way with her. She would look into your eyes and make you feel like you were the most important person in the room.

There was a short pause in Larissa’s speech, so short in fact that you weren’t sure anyone else had even noticed. It only took a split second for the woman to pull herself back together and finish her speech, her eyes falling on you a few more times.

Larissa ended her speech by telling everyone to help themselves with the food and drinks and reminding them that Nevermore would always welcome them if needed.

You were out of the yard as soon as Larissa stepped down from the podium. You needed to get out of there before she decided to come and find you, because you knew she would.

Coming here today hadn’t been a good idea. You should have stayed at home and buried that damn invitation in the drawer of your desk as you had done with the past four ones.

You heard the familiar sound of heels approaching the alcove where you were hiding and barely looked up when the sound stopped right next to you.

“I knew I would find you here.” Larissa spoke softly.

Of course she did. You always used to hide here whenever you needed to be away from everything.

“Your mother said you would visit whenever you’d feel better…I’m glad you finally do” The tall woman added.

It didn’t sound like she was reproaching you, and when you looked up at her face and your eyes met her gentle ones, you knew she wasn’t. Larissa was simply stating a fact. You were here, and she was glad that you were.

She hadn’t changed at all, you thought as you quietly observed her face. You noticed that the lines at the corner of her eyes and around her lips had deepened. She was as beautiful as ever.

“It’s very good to see you, Principal Weems. Thank you for the invitation.” You wished you had the courage to use her name, to call her Larissa like she had allowed you to do when in private. But time had passed and you weren’t sure if you were still allowed to.

“Of course, I’m glad you joined us today. Will you follow me to my office? There’s something I’d like to show you.” The older woman said, not waiting for your answer before spinning around on her heels and walking away.

Stepping into the office felt stranger than you thought it would. You were almost immediately hit with a wave of memories. Sitting down on the sofa by the fireplace, reading a book while Larissa furiously typed some emails on her keyboard. Spending whole evenings debating on the most absurd subject either of you could think of.

You’d fallen asleep there one time when Larissa hadn’t noticed how late it was. You’d woken up the next day still on the sofa but with a blanket covering you and a pillow comfortably tucked under your head. God, you loved her.

“There it is!” Larissa said, pulling you out of your reverie.

She handed you a small rectangular red box tied with a ribbon. You read the tag that was hanging to the bow and felt your stomach drop. Congratulations, darling! You make me so proud. She had bought you a graduation gift and you hadn’t shown up. You didn’t deserve her.

“I kept it all those years. I was hoping that you would visit during the summer after your graduation.” Larissa explained “And when you didn’t…I suppose I kept hoping that you would someday.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had been as hard for her as it had been for you. Had she missed you like you had missed her?

You pulled on the ribbon and watched as the bow fell apart, your hands slightly shaking when you lifted the lid to reveal a pair of black leather gloves.

“You always said you loved mine, remember? The beige ones?” Larissa asked.

If you remembered? You couldn’t count how many times you’d watched Larissa put her gloves on, admiring the way her fingers flexed in the leather. You had dreamt of helping her take them off only to kiss her knuckles.

“Do you like them?” The woman whispered, unsure what your silence meant.

“I love them.” You answered almost immediately. I love you, you thought. “Thank you so much, Miss Weems, this means more than you could ever imagine.”

Larissa’s smile widened and her body slightly moved forward, panic rising in your chest when her arms moved from her sides and you realised she was about to embrace you.

Don’t, please don’t. Because if you do I will fall right back in love with you, and I’m not sure I will ever be able to let go again.

But you didn’t say anything. You let her wrap her arms around you and pull you close against her. And it felt so right. You hadn’t felt this alive in years, yet it killed you to know that this meant nothing more to her than a hug between two old friends.

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit you sooner.” You whispered as you embraced her. She still felt the same in your arms. She still smelled the same. She was still her.

“I know.” Larissa whispered back, her body gently swaying from side to side as she held you close.

You felt like you were eighteen again, sobbing in her arms after a particularly rough day. She had never let you down, not once had she refused to help you and you had run away without an explanation.

“Larissa…” You whispered, wanting to explain yourself furthermore, needing to tell her how stupid you had been.

“I know.” She repeated and your ear that was pressed against her chest caught her heart beating faster.

You weren’t sure what she knew exactly, but it didn’t matter. Not now. Not while she was holding you close and shielding you from the world. There would be plenty of time for explanations. But for now, it was just you and her, tightly embracing each other.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #principal weems #no beta we die like larissa #the yearning is exquisite

[propertyofyoutube]

So here’s my idea! Sam x Colby x Reader but with temperature play!!

My vision is Sam and Colby both being on the dom side and reader being sub and one of them uses/chooses something really cold like using ice and the other using something hot like wax play candles and they use them at the same time on the reader and its just pure love and smut and filth with maybe a sprinkle of after care?(the reader may go into sub drop???) (Also I kinda imagined her tied up to kinda intensify the sensations but she doesn’t have to be at all!)

Im sorry if this is to specific! I just love your writing and think you would do amazing with this! (Ps if you want not Sam x Colby x Reader requests I have SOOOO many ideas and could send as many as you would like 😂😂)

Tap once for no, twice for yes - EXPLICIT

Summary: Sam and Colby never competed for your love, never once made you feel like one was better than the other. One day, you decided to tease them, whilst they were both not home on separate outings. After sending them saucy photos, you made it officially a competition.

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom!sam, dom!colby, sub!reader. Temperature play, hot wax, ice cubes, READER GOES INTO SUB!SPACE, squirting, slut, whore, princess, baby, swallowing, oral, rough sex, restraints, vibrator, overwhelming multiple orgasms. PURE FILTH! Aftercare.

Not edited. Requests open!

Authors note: I hope you like this! I will be doing a part 2 to this request, where reader goes into sub!drop and uses her safe word. I didn’t want to go too hard/negative for the first story in this book… follow to keep up!

Tumblr:propertyofyoutube

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

You sighed as you tossed over in your bed. As you picked up your phone it was only 2:30pm. “Ugh!” You groaned as you tossed once more. 4 more hours until Colby was due home and god knows how long until Sam. It was Saturday, which meant business meetings, personal meetings and so much more. But for you, a Saturday was a day off. You hated Saturdays… but you loved Saturday nights. That moment, Sam and Colby returned home, having missed you as always, and making up for the lost time in every sensual way possible.

As you thought about what you had coming later on, your thighs pressed tightly together, thinking about the basement. Damn, to YouTube their basement was the react channel set, but on the other side of that camera was a sex dungeon. Imagine Christian Grey’s red room times one hundred.

Before you met Sam and Colby, you were what most people say “vanilla”. You hadn’t had many sexual partners who explored all areas in the world of intimacy and pleasure. Once you and the boys became an agreed throuple, Colby wasted no time to introduce you to all new levels of passion. And once Sam got a taste, he couldn’t resist seeing you, obeying their demands, on your knees ready for whatever they wish. You could almost feel their hands tracing your curves, your toes curling as they brought you closer to each and every orgasm.

Suddenly your eyes snapped open, bringing you back to reality. “Fuck.” You breathed out as you felt your body desperate for them, for whatever they had in store for you. Your phone suddenly dinged as you looked down at the text message that flashed on your screen in the group chat named, ‘Our girl’.

Colbs🖤: hey baby, how’s your day going?

You began typing out instantly: it’s okay, I just can’t wait for you to-… Your frown quickly turned to a mischievous smirk as you had a bright idea. You held tightly on the back button as the message quickly disappeared. You jumped out of bed running to your dresser. As you pulled on the top drawer, your eyes fell wide as the range of the hottest lingerie sets. You fumbled through the sets and one pieces until landing on the brand new, laced corset top and matching panties. “Bingo.” You said as you chuckled to yourself. You quickly changed into the beautiful set and you couldn’t lie, you looked fucking hot. You bit your lip as you replied,

You: how long will you both be?

Colby’s typing bubble made your stomach flip in excitement. This was a risky move you were about to pull, this was punishment material. But you couldn’t wait to crumble at their touch.

Colbs🖤: I’m not sure baby… why what’s wrong? Is everything okay?

You smirked, trying to think of the best way to get them home. You walk over to your full length mirror, lowering down onto your knees. You begin to type,

You: I’m just trying my best to resist going down to the basement…

You bit your lip in anticipation as you awaited his reply, or Sam’s. It was less than a minute before Colby’s message appeared.

Colbs🖤: fuck… someone’s horny😂

You chuckled as you read his text, but before you could start type out another message came through.

Sammy❤️: wait, what’s happening?

You giggled as you definitely had both of their attention.

Sammy❤️: don’t you dare go to that basement without us, y/n.

You bit your lip, it was working, and only after one message. You sat back as Colby continued, you admired the way Sam and Colby never fought over you, for love, for sex, for anything.

Colbs🖤: agreed. Don’t y/n, or there will be consequences when we get home.

You rolled your eyes, truly not giving a fuck how badly they gave it to you. You quickly positioned yourself in the mirror as you snapped a photo. You attached the saucy picture of you in your sexy set.

You: either one, or both of you, get home now or I’ll sort myself out…😏

You waited in anticipation as both of their typing bubbles popped up. The messages instantly came through within seconds of each other.

Sammy❤️: y/n what are you doing… I’m in a meeting with the merch team.

Colbs🖤: fuck, you take that off right now. I’m in line to get some lunch.

You giggle to yourself, as you removed the corset, placing your arm across your breasts, taking another photo.

You: okay baby, it’s off😉 fine if you’d rather eat that lunch. Stay there.

You teased knowing Colby hated when you tried to boss him around. As you began typing a reply to Sam, you knew exactly what would get them both.

You: please Sammy, please come home. I need you to feel for yourself, just how soaked I am… 🥺

You waited, as Colby’s bubbles popped up first.

Colbs🖤: I know what you’re trying to do y/n…😒

Sammy❤️: baby… I wish I could, but I don’t think I can get out of this one. Believe me, I want to… so badly😢

You sighed loudly, you had to go further. They needed more convincing.

You: I usually wait for you both, everyday… but if one of you doesn’t get home in the next 20 minutes, I’ll quick frankly make myself cum

You quickly ran to the basement, your need for them intensifying every second. Before they could reply you took a photo of the large 4 poster bed, covered in satin sheets.

You: first one home gets to do whatever the fuck they want to me 😏

A couple of minutes passed and you knew that they were probably on the phone discussing the situation. They never competed.

Colbs🖤: fuck Sam, she’s done it now… you’ve been very bad y/n. You better have yourself on your knees, waiting for us.

Sammy❤️: we’re on our way. First one home gets to show you just how bad you’ve been…

Your eyes lit up in excitement.

You: yes sir.

You quickly headed back up the stairs to grab a lighter for the candles and an ice bucket, accompanied by a bottle of champagne and 3 glasses.

You had heard the front door open as you kneeled in front of the bed, facing your back to the door. Your long hair covering your bare back as you left yourself in just the lace panties. Your body tingled with excitement as you anxiously waited for who ever was about to walk through that door. Sam always went a little bit easier on you. You had them both wrapped around your finger, but you definitely knew Sam’s weak spots. He was easier to break than Colby. You knew you’d pushed them to their patient limits today and lowkey hoped Sam came first for the punishment.

“You’ve been very naughty, y/n.” Colby’s voice echoed through your ears as a smirk spread across your face.

“I would say I’m sorry… but I’m not.” You said cheekily.

“And now she’s back talking?” Sam said with a scoff of disbelief. Your eyes fell wide as you hadn’t heard the both of them arriving.

Colby smirked at Sam before slowly walking around to stand in front of you. Your eyes still facing forward, not looking up at him. Colby slowly placed his fingers below your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “You tried to make us compete for you, y/n… and that is our number one rule…” Colby said his voice low.

You tried so hard to fight back a smile, “I’m sorry…” you said softly.

Sam sighed from behind you, as you began to walk around to join Colby, “you can apologise by being a good girl for us… now get onto the bed and keep that pretty little mouth shut.” Sam said, his voice demanding and dominant, taking you by surprise. Damn, you really had pushed all their buttons. ‘Oh shit.’ You thought to yourself. You nodded before stand up and climbing onto the bed, sitting in the centre facing the boys who were now stripping down to their underwear.

“Lie down.” Colby demanded as you instantly laid your head back. Your heart beating a million miles per minute as you stared up at the ceiling.

Suddenly, both Sam and Colby appeared either side of you. Restraints in hand. “We had no control today…” Colby said with a slightly annoyed tone.

“I thinks it’s time we reimplemented who is in control here.” Sam continued as your body squirmed at their touch. You nodded slowly as they took one arm, and one leg each wrapping your wrists and ankles in the leather, strapping each of your limbs to a corner of the bed. You tried to close your legs, your thighs desperate to squeeze together as your panties grew even wetter, but it was no use.

Colby stood tall as he walked back up to your head, a red satin blindfold in hand, “you treat us differently.” He said softly as he placed the blindfold over your eyes. “Like we’re polar opposites.”

You swallowed hard full of a mixture of excitement and nerves.

“So I think we should show you, the effect polar opposites can have on you.” Sam said with a smirk.

Sam and Colby looked at each other before nodding with smiles. “What’s your safe word?” Colby asked as your breath shook.

“Red.” You whispered.

“Louder.” Sam said firmly sending shivers down your entire body.

You obeyed instantly, “red.” You spoke clearly.

“Good girl.” Sam said softly.

Colby picked up a candle from the dresser that you had lit. He walked over to the bed as Sam bit his lip, ready to watch the pleasure radiate through your body. “Sam… I think our little slut here needs her pussy eaten.” Colby said as Sam licked his lips. “She’s so desperate, look at her.” Sam couldn’t help but smile at your squirming body, stretched out across the bed as your knees tried their hardest to close.

“Always so desperate.” Sam said as he moved to the bottom of the bed, between your restrained legs. Sam looked up at your panties, he could see just how wet you were through the Lacey material. “Such a slut, you’ll do anything for us to fuck you senseless.” Sam smirked as he spoke watching how his words made your clit ache even more.

Colby leaned down by your head as he spoke softly, “do you want Sam to taste you, baby?” He asked. You nodded your head as Colby shook his, “words baby. Tell Sam exactly what you want.”

Sam’s hands suddenly touched your legs, as he slowly dragged them higher and higher, across your thigh towards your pelvis. “P- please Sammy. Please taste me.” You begged. You could feel your core pulsating at the thought of it.

Sam looked up at Colby from between your thighs as Colby nodded. Sam wasted no time, moving your panties to the side and connected his lips with your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue instantly.

Your back arched off the bed in pleasure, the feeling of Sam’s mouth working away on your core was like a dream.

“Fuck baby, you are soaked…” Sam groaned against your core as Colby licked his lips at how your body moved.

“You know those photos got me all hot baby…” Colby said looking at the candle in his hand. “And you’re going to get just as hot and bothered as I was…” Colby bit his lip as Sam’s eyes looked up at him, his mouth still devouring you. “Remember to use your safe word if you need to.” Colby reminded us as suddenly he tilted the candle over your torso. The hot wax hitting your skin as you moaned louder, a string of curse words leaving your mouth. You felt a knot in your stomach as the hot wax trailed down your body and Sam’s tongue entered your core.

“Fuck!” You cried out as Colby looked down on you and Sam gripped your hips, holding you in place.

“You thought you were so smart to tease us…” Colby grunted as he continued to pour once again, “using your body like a little whore.” His voice sent you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you full speed as you suddenly covered Sam’s face in your juices.

“Fuck baby…” Sam gasped as he sucked you up, “little warning next time?”

You breathed heavily as your heart beat strong and your body shook uncontrollably, “I’m-I’m so sorry.” You moaned out.

“You will be…” Colby grunted as Sam stood up from between your legs. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Colby said, his voice even lower as his hard cock was finally freed from his boxers.

Colby didn’t give you a chance to recover, he wanted to take out his frustrations in the best way he knew how to, making you cum, again… and again… and again. Colby lined himself up, hovering above you. He suddenly pushed himself deep inside of you as you cried out. “Fuck Colby!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head beneath the blindfold as your stomach was in knots once again.

Sam walked over to the ice bucket with the champagne, taking out 2 ice cubes. “After all that wax, you must be a little hot there baby…” Sam said with a smirk. Colby groaned loudly as he fucked you. You could hardly take in what Sam was saying as Colby hit your g-spot with his dick every time he pushed deep inside of you.

Sam climbed up onto the bed after removing his boxers, positioning himself up near your head. As Colby pounded into you, Sam took the two ice cubes as your body froze as the two ice cubes were placed on your nipples. “Oh shit!” You cried out, your back arching once again. Sam began to move around your chest, the ice leaving freezing cold trails of water.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.” Colby groaned as his face scrunched from the pleasure of your walls wrapped around him. He suddenly sat up slightly, positioning himself so he could continue to fuck you whilst grabbing the candle.

“If you’re going to treat us like opposites, then we’re going to treat you with opposites.” Sam breathed heavily as Colby bit his lip starting to pour some of the hot wax once again. The feeling of both the hot and cold touching your body was sending your senses into overdrive, your head becoming lightheaded with pleasure as you moaned louder.

Suddenly you felt that knot about to explode, “fuck… I’m gonna cum!” You cried out, trying to give them warning this time.

Sam suddenly leaned down, the ice pressed back onto your nipples as the hot wax trickled down your stomach, “cum baby. That’s our good girl.”

“Fuckkkk.” You groaned as you came once again, your body exploding into a whole new world of ecstasy.

“That’s it baby.” Colby groaned louder, but he didn’t stop, he continued to pound into you at a strong pace, not allowing you a second to cool down. “Now be a good girl and open up for Sam.” Colby demanded as you parted your lips. You could cry from the feeling they were giving you, the pleasure, the passion, the overwhelming mix of emotions.

Sam positioned his cock against your lips, “wider.” He said his voice horse. You quickly dropped your jaw as Sam pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, “fuck, princess.” He moaned.

Colby watched as Sam began to fuck your mouth as you continued to get thrusted into by him. “God she’s such a slut for us Sam” Colby said between moans.

“She’s our slut… our girl.” Sam moaned as he pushed his cock further into your mouth hitting the back of your throat.

Colby threw the candle aside as he picked up a vibrator that rested on the edge of the bed. He turned it on full whack immediately as he quickly put it against your throbbing clit. You moaned louder against Sam’s cock as he threw his head back from the feeling. Out of nowhere a surprise orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks as you squirted all over Colby's cock. He pulled out for a moment as you sprayed him and covered the sheets, leaving a puddle.

“Fuck baby girl.” Colby said as he breathed heavily, his eyes wide at the sight. He suddenly re-entered you as he began thrusting harder and faster than ever, the vibrator instantly back in place. Your body was exhausted, you were afraid of how much more it could take.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum… and you’re going to swallow every bit.” Sam said as he ran his fingers into your hair. You nodded slowly, hardly able to move from the lack of control on your body.

“Me too.” Colby grunted louder as he pounded fast. “One more time baby, you can do it.” He said as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit. You felt as you walls clenched around Colby once again, your back arching off the bed as Sam leaned across and grabbed a handful of ice cubes, dropping them all onto your body as you cried out louder.

Sam twitched in your mouth, “fuck…” he ground as he suddenly came filling up your through with his hot cum. He pulled out slowly as you lifted your head slightly to swallow. “That’s a good girl.” Suddenly your body was once again filled with pleasure from head to toe, your entrance begging for some relief, for a break as you came once again.

“Fuck Colby! Cum… please cum!” You cried out. As Colby looked up at your scrunched up face.

“You got it princess.” He grunted as he pounded deeper into you one last time fucking you harder than ever, he was right, there was no way you were going to be able to walk. “Fuck y/n.” He shouted as he pulled out spilling his cum all over your lower stomach.

Everything went silent. Apart from the sounds of you all panting. Sam instantly jumped off the bed, grabbing a towel to clean you off. You couldn’t help it, you completely disappeared, reverting into sub space. Your mind escaping to a place of quiet, happiness and calm. Your body lay still, your heart pounding. “Are you okay baby?” Sam said but you didn’t respond. He looked at Colby, they both knew exactly what was happening before they both jumped into action unbuckling the restraints and your body was completely limp.

Colby kneeled next to you on the bed, taking the blindfold off slowly, “baby?” He said softly, but your eyes looked as though you were no longer there. He looked up at Sam, this has happened before but it never worries them any less.

Sam crouched the other side as he took your hand, “y/n… y/n can you hear me? Tap once for no, twice for yes.” He said concerned.

Suddenly he felt two small taps on his hand from your index finger. They both sighed in relief. Colby reached up to stroke your hair as he used his other hand to take yours. “Do you want us to take you upstairs, princess?” He smiled as he felt two small taps on his hand.

Sam jumped up, grabbing a blanket as he wrapped it around you, your whole body no longer in action. Inside your mind, you knew what was happening but it was as though you completely disconnected from your body. Colby picked up, bridal style, the blanket wrapped rightly around you. He walked you up to your bedroom, he slowly lowered you to the bed, beneath the covers. “Do you want us to leave you baby?” He asked reluctantly as he knew sometimes you preferred to be alone when you went into subspace. Suddenly he felt a small tap on his hand. No, thank god. Colby climbed into bed with you, as Sam entered the room, water and food in hand ready for when you came back to them. Colby place you on his chest as Sam climbed in the bed on the other side of you. He leaned down kissing your cheek.

“Do you still love us, baby?” He said with a smirk as he always did when this happened, he chuckled as he felt two taps. “Good.” He kissed you once more before sitting against the headboard as Colby did, your hand held tightly in his.

“Take your time baby…” Colby whispered, “we’ll be here when you’re ready.” He kissed the top of your head as you tapped the both of them twice. Sam and Colby looked at each other with a sigh, as even though you loved the sex you all had, they always felt guilty when this happened. No matter how many times you tell them it’s not their fault.

Sam picked up the remote control as he headed onto Netflix and began to play your comfort movie. Both of them holding tightly onto your hands as your head lay comfortably on Colby’s chest. “We love you.” Colby said, honestly.

“So much.” Sam added as you tapped them both twice. You laid there, allowing your body to relax ready for you to come back to reality.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

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[theonewiththefanfics]

Dare to Hope, Dare to Dream (Part 2/?)

Synopsys: For three years now, Astarion and his love have been relegated to living in the shadows as he lost his ability to walk in the sun. But one day hope is reignited, and the vampire can't help but reminisce how he got where he is now.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: violence, abuse, talks of SA, character death, SMUT (if there is anything else that should be tagged, please do let me know)

Word count: 5830

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 1

The composing of the letter was quick work, as excitement thrummed through their veins, but every passing day diminished the accumulating hope.

It was agonising, waiting for Gale to respond. Where usually Astarion’s mind was preoccupied with Y/N, now it was occupied by that damned tome and that damned fucking page he couldn’t read.

There was a huge possibility it could be nothing but a simple song or a poem. It could be a curse for all he knew, but something in his still heart screamed it could be the thing that set him free from living in eternal darkness and making his love live like that too.

He’d give anything, pay any price for Y/N to be able to walk in the sun again, and if his hand was in hers, wrapped around her waist or tucked against his chest as they enjoyed the wonders of the world in colour, not the perpetual greys of night, he would beg on his knees if he had to.

His love didn’t seem to be fairing any better. She was fidgety all the time, where she used to be able to sit and watch Astarion patching up a shirt of hers or adding gorgeous swirls of gold and silver, now she organised and cleaned his whole tailoring room over and over again. Y/N cooked almost obsessively, way too much food for just one of them to eat, and it almost drove him mad how restless she’d become during sleep as well.

Worry ate at him that Y/N hadn’t gotten proper rest in days, all because of that damned book. Would it be worth it? Would her losing sleep be worth it in the end? Nothing that hurt her was, not in Astarion’s mind, but whenever he asked her to leave something be, said that he’d pick it up, she’d simply shrug and say, “No time like the present.”

Taking into account his feedings as well, his heart twisted at the thought that all of this was weighing on her shoulders, but luckily at least some of the burden of wait was lifted when Gale’s answer came.

To their relief, the wizard gave them good news and apologies, as he’d travelled beyond the Sword Coast with his grandfather, but would be taking the first available ship to Baldur’s Gate. It would take at least three weeks of travelling, but he would waste no time beyond that and go straight to their home, and that left the two anxious lovers to occupy their time however they could.

Y/N had already rearranged the whole library twice by then, half in search of figuring out where this mysterious book had come from, half in absolute boredom, while Astarion had taken to sowing and stitching dresses and tunics and shirts and trousers and even a gorgeous set if not a scandalous one of lingerie for Y/N (which he had promptly ripped to shreds that same morning she’d donned it to go to bed).

She’d admonished him through a desperate moan, as his tongue had skimmed against her neck, lace scraps still around her ribs and hips, nothing more left of the intricate design he’d so patiently made. Not that it’d covered much in the first place.

“I’ll make you hundreds more just to rip all of it off again,” Astarion groaned as her hips ground up against him, delicious friction causing him to respond in kind.

“But it was so beautiful!” Y/N whined when Astarion took her wrists in one of his hands and held them in a tight grip above their heads.

“Nothing is as beautiful as you completely bare and uncovered for me. So… delectable…”

Let’s just say neither of them could get out of bed after the sun had set, as their legs wobbled at the lightest touch to the ground, leading them to another day of sleeping in, and a night of passionate debauchery.

However, as much as Astarion wished to stay like that with Y/N, both of them naked and twined in bed, other things had to be done around the house, and at that moment, he’d asked Y/N to model a dress for her.

He didn’t dare say the cut was based on a sketch hidden deep in his drawers, and originally it was made of white lace with an accompanying veil, not the jade colour he’d cut it in now.

“Do you think we’re harbouring false hope?” she asked, colour-coding his threads and placing the box neatly back on the table after Astarion allowed her to redress and was happy with how the skirt flew around her hips.

“In what way, my dear?”

“I just,” Y/N huffed, sitting down on the arm of the chair next to him, watching how his quick fingers stilled their needlework so as to not poke her accidentally. “I don’t want you to be disappointed if this… if this isn’t what we think it is. I know how much you miss the sun.” Y/N gently threaded her fingers through his moon-white locks. “I know how guilty you feel for me having to forego it. You don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted whatever was on Astarion’s tongue. “I can see it on your face.”

He looked down at the green gown’s hem he was embellishing. He’d tried so hard to hide the guilt seeping through his veins. He didn’t want her to know that; he already burdened her life as is.

“I can’t say it wouldn’t hurt if what we hope doesn’t come true.” Astarion put the needle and dress on the table, turning to Y/N and pulling her into his lap. “I wish I could give you the world, but I can barely give you half… if even that much. You deserve so much more than what you’ve deemed enough. I just want to… give you more…”

“My Star, please don’t even think you’re not enough for me.” Y/N brushed a pale curl behind his ear.

He gave her a rueful smile. “A little mind-reader you are, aren’t you?”

She simply shrugged, melting against his chest, his undead heart beating just a tad stronger at how much comfort she got from simply being held by him. “It’s not so hard nowadays when you’ve become an open book to me.”

Astarion had nothing to respond to that because he knew he had, at least with Y/N. He might not voice it out loud, but his heart was open. Yes, fear still lingered in bleeding gashes around the edges, but he knew, she’d always be there to dab at the pained spots and heal them with a kiss.

“I’m not leaving,” she mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not now, not ever. Not when the sun sets or rises. An army would have to come in and tie me up before dragging me away from you. And even then, I’d be kicking and screaming, biting my way out to get home.”

Astarion’s breath stuttered, but he didn’t mention what the words of her referring to him as her home did to him. “I just want if only a minute to stand in the sun with you. If that’s all I’m given for the rest of eternity, it’s what I’ll take. Just a moment with you in the sun.”

Y/N took his chin between her thumb and pointer finger, tilting his head up so their eyes could meet – his scarlet ones brimming with unshed tears, her own Y/E/C ones filled with nothing but sure-fire determination. “Whatever is in that book, spell or no, we’ll figure it out. But one day, I know, you will be able to walk in the sun again. I’ll make sure of it. Even if I have to raise all nine hells, I’ll find a way.”

“I know you will.” Astraion sighed, letting the tears roll down his cheeks. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Y/N’s laughter was the most gorgeous symphony to his ears. She gave a light kiss to the very tip of his right one, a shiver of pleasure rushing down his spine. “We’ll figure it out, my Star.”

That morning, just a couple of hours after their conversation, as Y/N was closing all the shutters to their home so as to not let in the sun of the new day, Astarion slid his palm into hers, tugging her to their bed while kissing every inch of her skin he could get to.

He needed to be close to her, he needed to sink into her and fuse together, become as close to one body as possible, otherwise, it was like he was going to combust from the love unless he could bathe her in it.

“I need you,” Astarion whispered against her cheek, as Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You have me,” she responded in kind. “All of me is yours if you want it.”

A shudder went through his body as he swiftly, but tenderly rid both of them of their clothes, gentle hands running over Y/N’s hips and sides, as she lightly squirmed away from him when he playfully dug his fingers against her ribs, before trailing their way to her stomach, where a jagged scar stood slightly raised against the rest of her body.

“And I’m yours. Body and soul,” Astarion said, still looking at that scar while he slowly slipped his frame to rest atop, his cock sliding through her already slick folds, lightly nudging his tip against her clit in a teasing manner.

“Mine,” Y/N sighed out dreamily, as he filled her, her legs locking around his hips, ankles crossed over the small of his back to pull him deeper until their hips rested flush against one another.

A slight whimper escaped him as he affirmed. “Yours… just yours, my love.”

He’d never thought that such a word as “mine” would bring him such feelings of love and adoration.

Astarion had always wanted to belong. He’d always wanted a family, friends or a true lover to build his life with, but for a horribly long time, all because of Cazador, that wish was locked away in a tomb just like him. And after a while of pain and misery, he just gave up on the idea as a whole. Belonging to someone became a despised thing, a notion he had no free will. He was a pet, a thing to be had and done with as his master pleased.

But then that Nautiloid ship happened, and he gained allies. Who morphed into friends, and then Y/N, the oddest one of their group, became so much more than that.

That night when he’d offered himself to her, he’d been ready to use his body as coin, as he’d been taught, if it granted him food, shelter and protection. Astarion was used to whoring himself out, but that wouldn’t be the worst he’d done. At least Y/N was nice to look at. She included him in conversations during the day and asked for his opinion. It would most certainly be lovelier than the other times.

Yet she’d surprised him and said no. She still offered him all the things he asked for, even her neck if he needed to feed, but Y/N was adamant she would not take sex as payment for such things.

Astarion took a surprised step back. “Am I – do I not appeal to you?”

Why did it sting? Why did the thought of the answer being “yes” hurt so much?

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s just that you don’t have to ask for those things and sleep with me as payment.”

“Oh.” That stumped him truly. His mind reeled at her words. “Then what is it that you want?” A cheeky comment was right there for him to spit out, but he refrained.

Y/N shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe patch a hole in a shirt, if it gets too ruined? Help me carry part of my loot if it gets too heavy? We’re friends, or at least good travel companions, I’d like to think.”

That moment had changed everything for Astarion. It had changed how he looked at himself and what he could ask of the world. She’d helped him learn he could say no.

When Y/N had been close to decapitating that vile Drow Araj after she looked at him like he was a puppet for Y/N to use, Astarion had confessed that night – his whole plan of seducing her, securing his safety and getting in her good graces so he always had someone to have his back if suddenly the rest of their party decided to turn against him.

The kiss they’d shared, initiated by Astarion himself, felt like the first kiss of his life. He was jittering like a youth as Y/N’s lips pressed to his. And for the first time in ages, he thought maybe he had someone, to be with not belong to.

When she cried out in ecstasy as Astarion started to move, slowly dragging his hips back and forth, allowing her to feel every ridge and dip and immersing himself in the warm, wet feeling surrounding him, his thoughts couldn’t help but wander to that moment in the Szarr Palace when Y/N had cried in pain instead as Cazador’s knife dug deep into her gut.

She’d gone in for an attack in an attempt at freeing Astarion from the grasp of the Ascension ritual, and she had almost gotten Cazador, had the vampire not moved in the last second, twisting away from her sword and delivering the critical hit himself.

Someone screamed so loud, the sound verged on popping Astarion’s eardrums. It was only when his throat went raw he realised it was him screaming.

Cazador didn’t even bother to pull the knife out, letting Y/N drop to the ground in a heap, her blood trickling out of her wound and pooling around her body, staining the tiles a deep red.

Astarion wanted to retch at the sight.

“Pathetic,” Cazador spat. “Both of you.”

Nothing but white-hot rage coursed through Astarion’s veins as he watched his master walk around Y/N’s crumpled form, nudging her with his foot as if she were nothing more than a worm.

“I cannot deny,” Cazador mussed. “For a brief second, I did consider turning her into a new addition to our family. It would have been fitting – my prodigal son, returning and bringing the last piece I need. A fitting punishment, for your disobedience, Astarion, wouldn’t you agree? You’ve broken pretty much all of my rules, and someone has to pay.”

Cazador turned his back on Y/N, obscuring Astarion's view of her. “And how poetic would have it been, had it been you draining her, taking every last drop of her blood, only for me to sire. I think I would have enjoyed your screaming immensely, but no matter. It would only be a waste of time.” The vampire master smirked at a struggling Astarion. “Tell me – was her blood sweet? It smells absolutely delectable. Maybe I should have a little taste.”

“Fuck you!” Astarion roared. “Damn you to all nine hells!”

Cazador only chuckled. “Maybe a couple of decades in that tomb of yours will do you good. Remind you of manners. Or maybe I will let Godey -,” but he didn’t manage to finish whatever horrors he was already painting in his mind as he choked on the words.

The vampire’s dark brows furrowed as he slowly glanced down and saw a blade protruding from his stomach, the hilt buried deep against his spine.

Surprise, anger and confusion all flashed across the immortal’s face as Y/N yanked the dagger out. Cazador slowly turned and found Y/N standing before him, a hand clutching against her stomach.

“That,” she gasped. “Is for what you did to me and this,” she thrust her hand again, this time letting the blade go clean through Cazador’s neck, “is for what you did to Astarion.”

She left the blade there, taking a few steps back on swaying feet, but it was enough of a distraction to break Cazador’s concentration and Astarion dropped free.

He was on his feet in an instant, pulling the knife Y/N had plunged back out and then smashing it deep into Cazador’s gut over and over and over again until there was nothing left of him but a mangled, almost cut-in-two, corpse.

Astarion dropped to his knees, chest heaving with exertion, his whole body covered in blood, all of it Cazador’s. Who was dead.

Cazador was dead.

His master, his torturer, the one who robbed him of his life and choices was finally gone.

Relief rolled through him like a tidal wave, his body slowly but surely wracked by sobs as catharsis set in. Two hundred years of pain and misery, two hundred years of not owning his body or mind, and now he was suddenly free.

He didn’t know how to process such a realisation. It seemed almost easier to live his life in fear, to constantly look over his shoulder and go to bed with the thought his miracle of a chance at life could be taken away at any moment. In that way, he didn’t have to create friendships or relationships, he didn’t need to get close to anyone and risk losing them. He could just always keep peeking through the tiny slit from the boarded-up window, instead of poking his head through the crack in the door.

So what was he to do now, when that door had been blasted wide open?

“Y/N,” Astarion whispered her name, his head snapping up and scanning the hall, quickly landing on her body.

She’d collapsed about fifteen feet away from Cazador, but it took him less than five seconds to be by her side. With trembling hands, he took her by the shoulder and turned her on her back, so he could see her face.

A sob raked through him. “Please,” Astarion begged, pulling her head to rest on his thighs. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Star,” his name was a moan of pain from Y/N’s lips. And he hated it.

It was supposed to be a sigh of pleasure as his tongue lapped against her sweetest spot, a groan of delight when he sank into her, his hands holding hers, lips pressed together in a reassuring kiss. It was supposed to be a laugh between hiccups as he joked and snarked. It was supposed to be anything but this.

Her body was covered in so much blood, and had it been Cazador’s he would have been fine, but he knew it wasn’t. It was her own, that sweet and tantalizing scent of it running up his nose. Usually, the tiniest drop of it, could turn him feral, but all it did now was make bile rise in his throat as more and more of it coated his hands and the floor around them.

“I’ll complete the ritual,” he choked, brushing a strand of matted-down hair away from Y/N’s face. “And then I’ll save you.”

“Don’t,” she gasped, begging him. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t let you die,” he could barely manage the words, but she still heard them and shook her head.

“And I will not let you kill innocents just to save my life.” Y/N clutched at his arm as tightly as she could with all her remaining strength that was weaning with every passing second. “If you do this, I will never forgive you. You’ll become just like Cazador. And I know you are so – so much more than that. Than him. Don’t let Cazador win. You – you fought so hard,” she sobbed out, half at the implication of what he’d overcome, half at Astarion pressing down on her wound as he attempted to staunch the bleeding, but to no avail. “Don’t throw all of it away. Not for this.”

Astarion swivelled his head around desperately as if a response on what to do could be found in the room, yet nothing but Cazador’s mangled body and the pool of blood it’d created answered.

“Please,” he whispered, leaning down and pressing his forehead to Y/N’s and once again repeated. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” her response was barely a puff of air. “I will always be right here with you, Star. To the very end.”

Y/N placed her palm right where his undead heart broke into pieces, and when she closed her eyes, the only sound left was the echoes of his screams.

He might’ve been screaming for ages, Astarion didn’t know nor did he care. All he knew was that his love, his sun, his reason for living was gone.

The sound of the door being broken down invaded his mind, as many pairs of footsteps entered, but Astarion paid no mind to his friends. They could all go to the nine hells with Cazador for his sake, as long as he got to stay with Y/N.

He heard Karlach, the gentle giant of their group gasp out Y/N's name, and even Lae’Zel’s hiss of surprise was unmistakable, the scene before them rendering the rest speechless.

“She almost looks like she’s sleeping,” Astarion muttered, tracing his knuckles against Y/N’s cold skin. So close to his own temperature he didn’t feel the difference. A tear splashed against her cheek, rolling down her temple and disappearing into her hairline.

“Astarion, Shadowheart can help,” Wyll said, stepping closer, but the pale elf just shook his head.

“No,” he muttered, tracing her unmoving features with his thumb. “No one will hurt her. Not anymore.”

“Astarion, she won’t hurt Y/N,” Gale piped up. “We can bring her back.”

But he wasn’t listening anymore. He didn’t care what they were saying. No one else would ever touch her. No one would ever dare hurt her again. He’d set the world on fire if they so much as touched a hair on her head.

His friends however had different ideas. With apologies on their lips, they grabbed him, ripping him away from Y/N, her body unceremoniously dropping to the ground from where her head had been resting against his thighs.

“I’ll kill all of you!” Astarion screamed, trying to bite and scratch as he was pulled further and further away from Y/N. “Some friends you are!”

It took Karalch physically ripping him away from Y/N’s dead body, Lae’Zel and Wyll helping her pin him to the ground as Shadowheart and Gale crouched beside his love, while Astarion trashed against their hold.

“He took her,” Astarion wailed and roared, his pain echoing in the chamber around them. “He took her!"

There was no need for elaboration. Not even Lae’Zel, always so quick to show her disdain against emotion, spoke. Instead, she moved a bit to the side, so Astarion could at least be granted the gift of seeing Y/N’s face as Shadowheart and Gale hovered over her dead body.

“He killed her, and I could do nothing about it,” Astarion whimpered, eyes focused on the serene look his lover had in death. He only hoped she felt at peace wherever she was.

A pale blue light glowed from Shadowheart’s hands, Gale’s power feeding hers.

“It won’t work.” He let the tears fall freely from his eyes. “She’s gone.”

It was a resigned statement from someone who was completely exhausted. He’d prepared for never leaving the Szarr palace, for dying, if he had to, but he’d never prepared himself for losing Y/N. She had become such a staple, such a sure thing in his life, he no longer could imagine how a single day without her smile could go. But now she was gone and –

His brows furrowed. It had to be a trick of his mind, a hallucination his grief-stricken heart was conjuring up, but there it was – the sweetest sound in the world he never thought to hear again – Y/N’s heartbeat.

A ragged intake of breath shattered through the hall, and he watched as her lashes fluttered. Her lungs stuttered as if they needed a minute to reconnect with her brain before they levelled out and remembered how to breathe.

Karalch, Wyll and Lae’Zel released their hold, and Astarion slowly sat up on his forearms. When Y/N took in her first full steady breath, Shadowheart slumped over, Gale already having expected it, dropping into a crouch and allowing her to lean on his side.

He couldn’t believe it. Y/N had died in his arms, he’d watched her life’s blood seep across his hands, and yet there she was – on the ground, her heart beating and lungs dragging in short breaths, barely but still.

“She needs rest,” Shadowheart said, running a soothing hand down her friend’s cheek. “As do I.”

“Let’s get back to the inn.” Wyll approached and helped the exhausted cleric, as he wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her up, without much of a fuss. Lae’Zel and Gale hovered over Y/N until Astarion was capable of getting to his feet, knees trembling like a fawn's. Whether they were there for him or her, Astarion didn’t know but appreciated nonetheless.

“Would you like me to carry her?” Gale offered, a gentle look on his face, nothing but concern evident, but Astarion shook his head.

“I’ll do it.” His voice was raw from the screaming and crying, but he didn’t care to clear it as he gently lifted her up.

Y/N’s head lolled to rest against his chest as if on instinct and he had to push down a sob as he felt her warm, alive body curl into his own, like so many times before now.

Karlach laid a leather jacket across Astarion’s naked shoulders, but all he could concentrate on were the shallow breaths entering Y/N’s lungs, her slow but steadily beating heart and the way her fingers curled against where his still one rested.

The whole trek back to the lodgings they’d procured previously, Astarion was numb, completely and utterly numb save for the incessant need to check if Y/N was breathing. He was struggling to figure out his emotions.

As he laid her down in the bed, Karlach lighted a fire and Gale promised to bring a cloth and some warm water for Astarion to clean Y/N up, he couldn’t help but grieve Cazador.

He didn’t stray from his love’s bedside not even for a second, keeping vigil day and night, but most importantly watching her chest rise and fall with deep, even breaths, yet some part of him mourned his master as well.

Three days after the events of the Szarr Palace, Astarion had reluctantly agreed to have a quick wash while Karlach watched over Y/N. He regretted that decision more than anything because sometime during the ten minutes he allowed himself to get rid of the crusted blood, she had awoken.

When he re-entered the bedroom, Astarion almost fainted at the sight of her beautiful Y/E/C eyes boring into his scarlet ones.

“Hello, Star,” she croaked through a smile, and he almost crumbled then and there by the doorway, had it not been for the tight grip on the knob.

Karlach made a quick exit, but not before placing a warm palm against his shoulder, giving him a slight nudge in Y/N’s direction, though he didn’t need one. It was like she had a magical pull, making him stumble across the room before his knees gave out with a hard thud and his hand desperately sought out Y/N’s. When their fingers entwined in a tight hold, he swore to himself to never let go of her again.  

“I thought I lost you,” his voice broke. “I – I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I’m sorry,” her own tone was quiet, barely a whisper. “But I couldn’t just let him hurt you more.”

“I know. I know you… I just…” He huffed, brows furrowing as he searched for the correct words. “I thought when I got my freedom back, you would be there by my side, but instead you were the cost of it.” Astarion choked on the word “cost”. “But at the same time, I couldn’t help but mourn the loss of him.” He didn’t say his name, he’d decided Cazador wasn’t worth having the honour of a name spoken aloud.

“And it felt disgusting. He hurt you. He took you from me, and yet… I didn’t even have him left after your… your… heart stopped,” Astarion took a shaky intake of breath. “I was completely and utterly alone. When Shadowheart appeared, I was almost tempted to ask her to revive him just so I could kill him again for what he did to you… and maybe, just so I wasn’t alone.”

Astarion lifted his gaze, resting his cheek against the palm Y/N had untwined from his, so her soft thumb could brush away the rivers of tears spilling down his face. “Please don’t leave me again. I’m – I’m not strong enough to go through it once more.”

“You are, my Star,” Y/N kissed his forehead. “You are so strong.”

“Let me rephrase that then – I don’t want to go through anything in life. Not without you by my side.”

“I promise,” she muttered and leaned forward pulling Astarion to lay next to her, sealing the vow with a kiss.

And though he still struggled with nightmares of that fight, though he still woke up breathless at times, arms desperately searching for the warm body that always occupied the other side of the bed, the deepest reassurance he could ever have that everything was alright, that Y/N was safe and sound, were moments like these when her body melted against his, where she was panting and gasping and so full of life, especially as Astarion hit that one spot that made Y/N throw her head back in a moan of pleasure.

Her nails dug into his shoulders with such a delicious taste of pain, never drawing blood though, but always leaving crescent imprints he wanted to keep on his body forever. Like Y/N’s touch could erase everything Cazador had left on him.

Y/N’s back arched, and Astarion used the moment to slip his hands underneath and pull her upwards from the bed so that she was resting in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, chest to chest, and him buried so deep, it made both their eyes roll to the backs of their heads in pleasure.

She’d taught him sex could be wonderful. It could be meaningful and lovely, instead of a means to an end or a bargaining chip to be used. It had taken a while for Astarion to grow comfortable with even the thought of her touching him, but nowadays, he became quite the grump if he ever awoke not in Y/N’s arms, even if it was for such a simple reason as nature calling her.

Her touch was the balm on sunburnt skin, her kiss was a reassurance that it needn’t go further than that and he could always say no and would be listened to. But in moments like these, all Astation wanted was more. He wanted to feel her squeeze around him, to hear her breath choke at the back of her throat, he craved to feel her pulse race as she climbed higher and higher, closer and closer to her orgasm with every thrust of his hips.

Sex had been something repulsive and vile to him. Now it was the most beautiful thing he felt blessed to participate in, all because of the woman moaning his name above him.

“I’m so close,” she whispered in his ear as Astarion kissed her neck, heart thundering in her chest.

“Let go,” he muttered, a shiver rolling down Y/N’s spine at the pleading tone of his words, making her grip his back tighter, and dig in her nails more. “Let go, I got you.”

She whimpered at his coaxing words and tightened so much around his cock, it became almost impossible for Astarion to keep pumping in and out, so he slid a hand down across her chest to her clit, just to push her over that edge she was teetering on.

Two deft fingers circled around the swollen bud, once, twice and that was it for Y/N to break. With a sigh of his name, she came, hard, taking him along as well, the orgasm surprising Astarion with its intensity and how quickly it’d crept upon him.

Bliss exploded through his veins, and his nails dug into the small of Y/N’s back, always careful to not hurt her, but deep enough to leave moon-shaped marks on her body, the same ones she no doubt had left along his back and shoulders as they both succumbed to euphoria.

A moan got stuck in his throat before slipping past his lips as Y/N ground down one final time, before stilling her hips and relishing how he filled her until the mix of their pleasure ran down their thighs and stained the sheets below. Never mind that though. It was a problem for future Astarion and Y/N.

They both were trembling as, slowly, the orgasmic wave subsided, and as they came down from their highs, Astarion couldn’t help but place a cheeky kiss on Y/N’s neck, letting his fangs skim along her skin and feel her pulse spike at that.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, her hands slowly skimming up and down his spine, body still rocked by pleasure. “If you want a snack, you know all you have to do is ask.”

“I’m fine,” Astarion mumbled, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. “I just… I just love you. That’s all.”

At least that’s what he said, but underneath laid a thousand other words – I need to feel your heart beating. I have to feel your skin against mine. I need to hear you breathing and know that you’re alive and here with me. That he wasn’t imagining it as some sort of a hallucination and wouldn’t wake up back under Cazador’s control with her body lying dead on the ground by his feet.

Y/N hummed in content, pressing a kiss to Astarion’s chest. “I love you too. So much.”

A smile bloomed on his lips as he pulled away just a bit so he could cup Y/N’s face between his hands. “I don’t know what I may have done in my previous life, and I certainly don’t know what I did in this one to ever deserve someone like you, but whatever it was… I’m glad I did.”

The way her eyes shone would have brought Astarion to his knees, had he already not been kneeling on the bed. Y/N was just about to pull him in for a deep kiss when their moment was disturbed by the bell of their house ringing.

They knew it was daytime. And only one person would ring it then.

Astarion looked at Y/N.

She lifted a brow. “Ready to figure out what’s in that book?”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “With you, I’m ready for anything.”

Tags:

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

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: I am in love with pixels on a screen...

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x y/n #astarion x you #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #neil newbon #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion angst #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion smut #astarion ancunin smut #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion

[diejager]

I dont know if you write about it and it’s fine if you dont but I just wanna share my thoughts, if it’s alright with you. 🙂

Know what would make the siblings with Ghost fic? Inc*st. You’ve already laid the groundwork for it, tbh.

Being together most of the time in public and in private settings, men not being able to approach Doc due to Ghost intimidating them, the physical intimacy that is present and constant, and both being closed off to anyone else but to each other. It’s all there, just a bit more darkness and…tada!

I wont say anything anymore as I do not wish to offend you if this is not your cup of tea. But if it is, then I will look forward to your great work, as usual. Thank you and have a good day. 🥰

You, anon, are so blasphemously brilliant. Inc*st isn’t something I’ve done, and isn’t good per se irl, but this is fictional works. So, yeah, here ya go :D And like I said, I’m pretty loose with what I’m willing to write. PS. I am SO going to hell for this-

Pairing : big brother Simon “Ghost” Riley x lil sister reader

Cw: DARK, INC*ST, smut, yandere, DUB-CON, fingering, self-hate, tell me if I missed anything. Wc: 1.4k

NOTE: You've been warned about the content, if you don't like Inc*st, don't read it. Just don't report it, cuz that would be annoying.

YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY AND YOURS ALONE.

He knew it was wrong, the sheer sinful shame of his acts towards you made him a monster, a vile creature, one worse than the abusive father you shared. His intentions, his thoughts, his needs, they were so wrong, too wrong that he had to choke down the disgust that riled in his guts. 

I’m disgusting, he repeated those words a dozen times, a hundred times, a million times, how many times he needed to get them to stop himself. I’m so fuckin’ disgusting.

Being able to look at himself in the mirror made the sinking feeling worse, he could see the face of the monster he was, not the one who wore a mask or hid behind a moniker; the face he glared at was Simon, the face that shared similarities to yours: the blond hair and the brown eyes. He had red-rimmed eyes, unlike your softer ones, full of life and power. He’d felt the need to break the mirror, shattering it into small pieces and watching his face crumble into fragments and blood, but it would make you worry so much. The blood in the bathroom tiles, wall and sink, his bloodied and roughly wrapped hand and the missing and broken glass would give him away; albeit a shattered mirror was enough for you to rush to him in a flurry of worried words and hushed comfort. 

He felt so fucking disgusting, you cared so much about him, so much care and dedication you devoted to him and him alone since you’ve been young. The words you’d whisper in his ears at night when his regrets crawled out, burdening his mind with bloody and visceral images that terrorised him. You were his solid link, the anchor that held him firmly alive and sane, able enough to keep going. 

You were his lifeline as he was yours, you clutched onto him for love and comfort while he latched on you for the same, but he had needs, dark ideas and images he made with you. His sacrilegious dreams and thoughts violated his image of you, the sweet girl he protected from your abusive father that would beat you and him. 

Stop, this is disgusting, he kept reminding himself, screaming the words to himself in the bathroom, the shower head pouring scalding water upon his request as punishment. Stop it. Stop it, Simon, he screamed, but it never helped, the burning water, the frozen winter, or the pain from wounds, they all numbed until he seaked you out. Then, he couldn’t stop himself, his hands and mouth were so hungry.

You were always with him, and he was always with you; you were stuck by the hip. He came to you by habit, by instinct, by heart. You were his comfort and the only thing that mattered. That's why he was doing this, his need for a physical relationship, the carnal hunger he had, the darkness he wanted to share, all for you. The more selfish side of himself told him that he deserved it and that he was doing this for you. For you, anything.

“Si, are you sure?” you mumbled, breathing in the sweat and cologne on his throat, the thick muscle of his neck bulging when he gulped down harshly. “Si, I’m- I-“

“You trust me, don’t you, love?” he asked, wording his words in a way that would make you less hesitant, and question his intentions less whenever he called you love. It was the nickname everyone at home called you, the youngest of the family, the baby. “Do you?”

“‘Course I do, Si. Of course, I do,” you had a quirk of repeating your words when you got stressed, became so nervous that you’d stutter. It only happend with him or the team, feeling comfortable enough to let them in, to let down the wall you built around you and him enough so that they could see the real you. Task Force 141 truly became a new family, to him and to you.

He shushed your nerves, hands trailing down your backed back to your hips, thumb rubbing circles on your warm skin. You straddled him, he told you that it would make him feel better, it would help him relax and take the edge off. One hand went back to cradle the back of your neck and pushed your closer to him, his head laying on top of yours. His other went further down your back, cupping the fat of your ass, kneading with the softness. His blunt nails dug into your ass, index finding the tight rim of your anal hole. 

You whined and clutched the back of his shirt tightly when he went lower, fore and middle finger bumping into your shaved lips, sliding to your slit and rubbing your clit. You opened your mouth to ask him once more, still hesitant to Simon’s idea, but a moan left instead. His hand rounded your thigh to deftly circle your button between his clothed torso and your sheer nakedness. You wanted to hide, feeling his rough, calloused pads writing eights on your sensitive nerve.

You fidgeted, writhing quietly over him, hip bucking forward and mewling when his forefinger would dip slightly into your cunt, tip sliding in before he pulled back to tease you. Although his intentions were to tease you, pleasure you, you felt the nagging discomfort of sharing this with Simon, he was your brother, the eldest of your family and the only one who you could seek comfort with. It never felt the same when you went to the other men, Simon never liked it either. 

This wasn’t what siblings usually did, or should at all, but how could you deny him, tell your only family no. The burden of pulling back from him in his time of need would hurt more than the discomfort you felt at the moment, the buzzing in your mind and the tingling pleasure he was giving you. This was anything but normal, but for him, for Simon, you’d see it through. 

“Si-!” you jerked back when he slipped a finger in, voice breaking when you cried out, huffing loudly onto the skin of his neck, where he kept you. “Wait-“ your nails sunk into the meat of his back, tapping him, telling him to slow down or wait a bit. 

“I got ya, love,” Simon whispered calmly, adding another finger to pump in and out of your soaked cunt, your body reacted naturally to stimulus even if you’d cried no or stop, please, the body and mind were separate things. “I know, (Name), let me help ya.”

Help wasn’t what you’d qualify this as; although your body reacted to him, any body would do the same if they were on the receiving end. You wanted out, you wanted him to stop, but you also knew no one would love you the way Simon did, or the way Ghost did. He was your haven, your safe space that no one else could become, you already had him, why would you need anyone else. 

“That’s right. Ya got me, so ya don’t need anyone else, right?” 

You couldn’t reply, lost in the drowning sensation of being so full and stimulated by Simon, his big fingers dragging over the spot that made your mind numb and curling just right to make you see stars. Your body shook, crying out his name as pleasure washed over you, walls clamping on his digits, your hips bucked as you rode his hand. 

This is wrong, this is so wrong, Si, you wished you could tell him, but the orgasm made all thought disappear. When was the last time you fucked someone, or dated? You couldn’t remember having anyone significant other than family in your life. Sure, you’ve laid with some soldiers and boys when you were younger, more spry than your current age, but those were long ago and none were as big as Simon was. Men were rarely his size and height, he was a rivalling force in the military and in life. 

He was loving and tender, slowly pushing you over the edge a second and third time before he felt the need to stop, too ashamed of himself to relieve the unbarring and painful sensation of his hard cock straining against the tightness of his brief and pants. You were his priority, your pleasure being the sole purpose of this moment: locked in your shared room, walls reinforced to be sound-proof from the inside and being at the mercy of his skilled fingers. 

He gazed at you, eyes squinting at the fiery blush on your cheeks, warm and sweaty, your eyes dazed and teary from him, tired even, and your breath and heart rapid, loud and gasping. Your eyes met his and you smiled at him tentatively, unsure of how he felt now. Did he feel better? What happened that made him so riled up, mad? 

“I won’t let anyone touch ya, (Name),” he swore, caressing your cheeks sweetly with his clean hand. He loved you too much to lose you to someone else, he couldn’t let another man or woman take you from him like they did with his family. “I love you, (Name),” he said those words like they were a mantra, sacred words meant for you alone. 

“I love you too, Si.”

Only for you, Si. It’s wrong but for you, anything.

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #ghost x reader smut #simon ghost riley x you #mw2 smut #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon x reader #yandere ghost #yandere simon riley #yandere x reader #tw dubcon #tw: incest

[shiftingparadise]

I don’t know if your busy rn but there is a shortage in FEITAN x readers books and ya girl is dying. I know your inbox is like huge probably but anyways.. IF YOU DO TYSM AND IF YOU DONT TYSM FOR READING ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😻😻😻🥲🥲🫶🫶🫶🫶

Sorry it took so long. I hope you like this :) In this story, Feitan is similar to my others works. So he isn’t particularly very kind in the beginning. I’m working on your requests now, so if you have one don’t be afraid to send me a message or to ask one! Keep in mind that I have a couple left to do, so I’m only asking for some patience :3.

If you enjoy my stories it would be really great if you could buy me a coffee with the link in my bio 😇. HOWEVER DON’T FEEL OBLIGED TO DO SO. I’m only saying this because someone did a week ago and it felt really nice 🥹. I really enjoy writing for you guys either way 🤍✨

PS: I wanted to write another part of this, let me know if I should :)

Warnings: smut and angst.

Word count: 3455

“Be careful, don’t let your heart fool you”, my father took another sip from his coffee, “You’ve got to be sure he isn’t after our money”. “How can you say something like that?”. “I only want what’s best for you. You know that”. “I know him. He would never do anything to hurt me”, you slowly stood up. For some reason, your father’s office never seemed so small before. “Fine”, my father sighed, “Invite him over for dinner”.

You closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks as you remembered the conversation with your father. You didn’t know. You really didn’t. How could you know that he was a Spider? That he was only playing a part? Right, in hindsight everything did seem a little fishy. The way he was suddenly there when you needed a shoulder to cry on. Or the way his name didn’t seem to truly ‘fit’ him. Jacob. He didn’t look like a Jacob at all. How could you be this dumb? Life isn’t like the fairytales and you were an idiot to think it could be.

“Where is she?”.

You couldn’t help but shiver. That voice used to be so familiar. So warm and soft.

“Boss told us to keep her in here”, the blonde that stood in front of the door answered. “It’s nice in there, Fei. She has a nice bed and lots of books”, a misguidingly soft voice answered.

The girl seemed so sweet, with her big glasses and her soft eyes. You couldn’t understand how she could be part of a gang like this.

“I don’t care”, Feitan coldly replied before walking past his comrades.

Your stomach started to turn. You couldn’t look at him. You wanted to keep your memories clean from any stains; to remember him the way you knew him. Kind and soft-hearted.

“Look at me”. “No”, you softly answered as you kept your gaze locked on the ground. “I said look at me”, his hands roughly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t want to”, you almost whispered as you tried not to cry. “Look at me”.

You flinched as you felt the tip of his knife against your cheek. The same place he used to kiss you before wishing you goodnight.

You looked up at him with glossy eyes, not daring to say anything. “Are you scared?”, his cold eyes pierced through your skull. “Yes”, you softly agreed while studying his face. He was nothing like the man you used to know.

His facial features were so cold and distant. As if he was frozen in ice for hundreds of years. You couldn’t see half of his face, as it was covered with the coat he was wearing. It was decorated with a skull, making him even more morbid.

“Good”, he roughly pulled away as he lowered his knife to your throat. “Why are you doing this?”, your chin high. “Why?”, he repeated the question while once again lowering his knife. Letting the cold metal rest just beneath your collarbone. Your breathing got heavier as fear’s grip tightened around your body.

You didn’t know he wasn’t the head of this organization, that this wasn’t his plan. To you, he was the man with all the answers. The one who planned this whole scheme.

“If you want money-“, you were cut short by the back of his hand. “Only speak when I tell you to”.

He wasn’t that tall, but the way he hit you made him seem like the devil. Even though you couldn’t see, you knew there was this cruel grin on his face. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed.

“Too hard”, his thumb grazed over your cheek. “Or you’re just too fragile”, he lowered his collar to lick up the drop of blood on his thumb. “Don’t cry”, he kneeled before you, “We’re going to have a lot more fun than this”. “Fei?”, the sweet-looking girl suddenly stood next to him. “What, Shizuku?”, Feitan sighed before standing up again. “Boss said not to hurt her, remember?”, her finger resting on her lip. “Tsk”, he clicked his tongue before leaving. “Don’t worry”, the girl cheerfully smiled, “We only need some kind of code. I’m sure your father will give it to us soon”. “Code?”, your eyes widened, “H-he won’t give it!”, you hastily got up from the bed you were sitting on. “Huh? He won’t?”, the girl widened her eyes.

You knew your father. He would never risk the nation’s, no the world’s, safety. Not even for his own daughter.

“You’re after the code for the nuclear weapons, right?”. “I guess… I don’t remember to be honest”, she looked down at the ground. “Listen, my father will never give that code. J-just ask our president-“. “But only your father knows that code, since he’s head of security”, the girl happily smiled, causing you to shiver. “Yo, Shizu”, the blonde angrily yelled from the door. “Huh?”, she looked behind her. “Shut up before you tell her our whole plan”. “Oh right”, she giggled before leaving.

——

“Get the girl, Phinks”, Feitan coldly sighed from behind your door.

You tucked your knees even tighter to your chest. You didn’t know what was going to happen. Were they going to kill you? Torture you?

“Get up”, Phinks roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you from the bed. “Let go!”, you tried to struggle, to break free from his grip. “You want me to get Feitan?”, he gritted his teeth. A threat he didn’t have to make twice.

You hastily stopped struggling, now following him into the main room of the abandoned building. The stones underneath your feet felt exceptionally cold, and the nightgown you were wearing didn’t really help to keep you warm.

“She’s freezing”, a voice too soft now greeted your ears, “Put this on her”.

You looked up to a tall figure. His hair was pitch black and there was this kind of cross tattooed on his forehead. He was an exceptionally good-looking man, but somehow his skin was just as cold-looking as Feitan. It didn’t match his kind voice at all.

“Here”, Phinks threw the coat at your feet. “I said put it on”, the dark-haired man smiled, “She can’t put it on when her hands are tied, can she? “Tsk”, the blonde picked up the coat before throwing it over your shoulders.

You scanned the room. There were about 10 people in the room. Some of them just looked evil, but others looked as innocent as a child. Especially a blonde-haired guy with big, green eyes.

“Your father won’t give us the code. Do you-”, the soft voice broke through your thoughts. “Who are you?“.

“Huh?”, you froze in fear as Feitan’s knife was once again pressed to the soft skin of your neck. You didn’t see him move. It felt as if he had just teleported to you.

“Tsk”, his eyes found yours, “How dare you interrupt boss?”. “Come now, Feitan”, the man now walked towards you, stopping before you. Without any warning, his fingers glided over your cheek, “You couldn’t contain yourself before, but you have to now”. Feitan immediately stepped away from you, discontent hidden in his eyes. “Feitan has a hard time holding himself back from… Fun”, the man smiled, “But it seems he did his best with you. I rarely get to see a hostage without any cuts or broken fingers”. “Lucky me”, you sarcastically answered while holding eye contact. “Yes, but keep in mind that luck doesn’t last forever”, he chuckled. “I’m Chrollo. Head of the Spiders”, he walked back to the stairs he was sitting on earlier. “My father isn’t going to give up the code. Not even for me”. “Yes, he made that very clear”, Chrollo replied. “Let me go and I promise my father will give you a generous reward”, your heart racing. “We have more than enough money. Besides, we can’t let you go. You know all of our names. Well… you’ll get to know them”. “What does that mean?”, you took a step back. “Feitan wanted you as a reward during this mission. So whether we’ll get the code or not, you’re not leaving”, Chrollo’s eyes glittered in the dark. “I-I don’t want to”, you started to panic. “Don’t care”, Feitan’s voice was only fuel to your fear. “From now on, you belong to Feitan”, Chrollo signaled Phinks to free your hands. “Keep the coat. I don’t think Feitan cares if you’re cold. You’ll be at least warm that way”, Chrollo spoke as if Feitan wasn’t there. “Right”, Feitan smirked. “At least get her some proper clothing, Fei”, Chrollo coldly looked at his Spider before dismissing everyone.

——

“Here”, Feitan threw a couple of bags on your bed the next day. “Proper clothes”, he leaned against the door.

After Chrollo dismissed everyone, Feitan took you with him to the house he was currently living in. It was a big and luxurious house. It wasn’t really decorated with furniture, only the necessary things like a couch, a dinner table, some paintings on the wall… And the room you were staying in was just as empty. There was a bed, a luxurious bathroom, and a big, walk-in closet that was empty of course.

“Proper clothes?”, your brows pulled together as you pulled a dress out of one of the bags. “This is a Prada dress?”. “I want you to look pretty”, Feitan looked up at the ceiling. “I’ll get you clothes every week. They won’t last long anyway”, his eyes now darted to yours.

Your stomach turned. You could only imagine what he was going to do to you.

“Wear this one for now”, Feitan slowly walked to your bed before handing you another bag. “For dinner. Hired some chef”. “I’m not hungry”, you clenched your jaw. “I don’t care”, he once again grabbed your jaw, “You’ll do as I say. Got it?”, his lips hovering next to your ear. “I’ve been kind until now, haven’t I? I behaved, so you’ll behave too”.

You didn’t answer, you just nodded in response.

“Good. Now put it on”, he leaned back. “N-now?”, you looked up at him with fear in your eyes. “Yes, want to see your body one last time before I have fun with it”. “What do you mean?”, you tried to keep your voice steady. “Put it on”, his cold gaze let you know his patience was running thin.

With shaking hands, you pulled out the nightgown you were wearing from when Feitan kidnapped you. You weren’t wearing anything underneath it, but that didn’t faze you. Feitan had seen your body many times by now. He used to place kisses all over it, making you feel like no one ever had before.

“This one?”, you covered your breasts with your arm. “Yes”, he got closer. You pulled out a beautiful, black dress from the back.

It wasn’t especially short, but it wasn’t long either. The fabric ended just above your knees. It was a tight dress until your belly, where it opened up like a flower. It was a beautiful dress, no doubt about it.

“I’ll close it”, Feitan guided you to a mirror before his hands glided along your waist.

His touch didn’t seem rough at all. It felt just as before.

“You like it?”, he took a step back when he zipped up the dress for you. “Hm”, you nodded in agreement. “Dinner’s at 7”, he cleared his throat before leaving you again.

——

You couldn’t eat. There was this lump in your throat that made it feel like you’d throw up if any kind of food entered your mouth.

“I thought sushi was your favorite”, Feitan was sitting on the other end of the table. “It is”, you hastily picked up some food, fearing what might happen if you didn’t eat. “It’s really good”, your eyes widened.

You didn’t realize how much your body needed some kind of fuel. You didn’t eat for at least 2 days now, and you only realized now how hungry you truly were.

“One of the best sushi chefs”, Feitan looked at the kitchen behind him where the chef was preparing more food. He seemed in distress, probably because Feitan made sure he wouldn’t tell a soul you were with him.

After dinner, Feitan guided you back to your room.

“Can I go to sleep?”, you softly asked as you sat down on your bed. “Sleep?”, he tilted his head, “No, it’s time for me to have some fun”. “Fun?”, your breathing started to fasten. “Fun”, his eyes lit up before roughly grabbing your arm and pulling you to another room.

There was nothing in the room except for a chair and a bed. Without any warning, he threw you on the bed and tied your wrists to it.

“What are you going to do?”, your eyes already glossy. “Whatever I want”, a knife in his hand as he slowly crawled on top of you. “I’ve wanted to take you like this since the first time we met”, his nose taking in the scent of your hair. “You know how hard it is to hold back when you’re this pretty? It was almost hard for me to finish at times because you were so boring… Always begging me to kiss you, to take you slow, … I hated it”.

You didn’t answer. There was nothing for you to say. Even when he showed some kindness earlier, you should’ve prepared yourself for this.

He swiftly cut the straps of your dress with his knife, causing it to slide down just beneath your breasts. “Stay still”, his knife firmly pressed against your throat as he noticed you were starting to kick your legs. “Please”, tears streamed down your cheek as he licked up a drop of your blood. “Don’t worry, you’re going to like this”, he looked into your eyes before cupping your cheek, “I’ll be rough, but I won’t be a monster. I know you’re body and when it’s ready for me. Even though you won’t admit it, I know you’ve been craving my touch. I saw it earlier when you were undressing in front of me… Your legs were rubbing against each other when I zipped up your dress. You only do that when you want me”.

Yes. No. Maybe. You knew he was right. Earlier… You wanted him, but you tried to push those thoughts away as much as you could. He wasn’t the man you knew. He was a psychopath, how could you want someone like him?

“Now, stay still”, his nails dug into the soft flesh of your waist as he pulled up your dress with the other. “Feitan, please”, another tear was streaming down your cheek. “Say it. Tell me you want me to stop”, his knee pushed your legs open as his digits hovered over your most sensitive spot. “I’ll stop if you do”, a devilish smirk in his eyes.

But you didn’t want him to. You didn’t care if he was going to be rough, or if he was even going to hurt you. You wanted him.

“See?”, he chuckled at a lack of answer. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’ve never been this wet for me”, he softly bit on your shoulder. You closed your eyes as you were still trying to fight yourself. “I asked you a question”, his hand wrapped around your throat as he bit your shoulder again. Only harder this time. “S-shit”, you cried out in pain. “I’m going to cover you in bitemarks for ignoring my question”, he loosened his grip around your neck while his fingers slowly entered you. “Fuck”, you arched your back as he left bite marks on your body.

You couldn’t deny it any longer. He made you feel good, better than he ever did.

“Tsk”, Feitan frowned when you came undone around his fingers, “Wasn’t expecting you to enjoy this”. “I-I’m not”, you avoided his gaze as your cheeks turned red. “Liar”, he softly hummed while undressing himself.

Your eyes were glued to his body. Now it was clear why he never took off his shirt.

“Who did that to you?”, you quietly whispered as you noticed his scars. For a second, his eyes widened while his lips were slightly parted.

There was this short-lived moment in his mind where he wanted to let you in and where he wanted you to care for him. An unwilling memory of your arms wrapped around him flashed before his eyes.

“Shut up”, his eyes went dark again, “Don’t talk”.

Afraid of being enchanted by your warm voice again, he thought it better not to hear your voice at all.

He didn’t ask if you were ready for him. It was unnecessary. By now, your legs are already wrapped willingly around his waist. “Feitan”, your eyes closed as his forehead was pressed against yours. “Don’t”, Feitan grunted as he got even rougher, “I don’t want you to enjoy this”.

That was a lie. He wanted you to, more than anything. It wasn’t his intention for you to enjoy this, and he surely didn’t want to leave you so perfectly. In his mind, he wanted to hurt you, to make you bleed, just as he did with all those before you. That’s what he enjoyed. Torture. Not this. This wasn’t like him, and it made him mad but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, more so, it would even make him feel bad about himself.

“Sorry”, your lips pressed against each other as a whisper left your chest. “Fuck”, he grunted in agitation.

He didn’t know what to do, but this didn’t feel right.

“Tell me”, he clenched his jaw at the realization of how soft he had gotten for you. “W-what?”, you looked to the side. “Tell me you want me, please”, his eyes were glued to a bitemark he left.

He couldn’t lie. The bruises looked so good on your body, but only because you enjoyed it. If he did something like that while you were crying, begging him to stop…

“I want you, Feitan”, your soft voice melted something inside him as if a fire was lit inside his heart. “Even now? Even when you see who I truly am?”.

“Even now”.

Without thinking twice, he cut the rope that was holding you down.

“Touch me. Like you used to”, he softly grabbed your wrist before placing your hand on the back of his head.

You obeyed as you softly tugged at his dark hair.

“I don’t want to take you slowly like I used to, Y/N”. “You don’t have to”, your legs tightened around his waist.

That was all he needed to hear. Without any hesitation, his lips crashed against yours.

“You feel so good”, your breathing got heavier as you could feel he was getting close. “Yeah?”, his voice low, “Want me to breed you?”. You hastily nodded as you could feel yourself getting closer to your own climax. “Really?”, he chuckled, “You never let me come inside you before. Always crying about being scared to get pregnant”. “P-please Feitan”, you arched your back. “Don’t worry. I’m going to fill you up this time, whether you want me to or not”.

Your legs now started to shake as you came undone around him.

“That’s it. Good girl”, Feitan grabbed your jaw, “Now look at me and beg”. “P-please Fei, want you to come inside me”. “Want me to put a baby in you? Making you mine forever?”. “P-please”.

Feitan couldn’t contain himself any longer. With heavy breaths and low grunts, he let his head rest against your shoulder.

“Never felt so good”, he slowly pulled out, before placing a soft kiss on the bitemark he left on your shoulder. “Hm”, you happily smiled.

He didn’t know why he decided to act cold again. Honestly, he hated himself for it, but there was something inside him. A feeling he never felt before. Was it fear? Was he scared that you were going to leave him? No. You couldn’t leave him. He kidnapped you and you had nowhere to go. It was something else. He knew you weren’t going to leave, but he was scared you were going to hate him for what he did. Or rather, for who he was. You didn’t know the real him.

“Don’t think this will happen again”, he coldly got up, “You won’t enjoy this next time”.

You lowered your eyes as you watched him put on his clothes.

“Can I-“.

“Go to your room and shower. I don’t care what you do for the rest of the night”, he clenched his jaw before leaving you alone.

#feitan x you #feitan headcanons #feitan smut #feitan x reader #feitan hxh #hunter x hunter feitan #hxh feitan #feitan portor #feitan #feitan x y/n #feitan portor x reader #hxh phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter x you #hunter x hunter x y/n #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter imagines #hunter x hunter fanfic #hunter x hunter #hxh smut #hxh fanfic #hxh #hxh x reader #hxh x y/n #hxh x you

[starsandhughes]

Personification of Love- Platonic! Jack Hughes

ft trevor zegras x reader and best friend!quinn x reader

summary: even though your dating trevor, and have never seen jack as anything more than a friend, you call jack ‘my love.’ and everyone wants to know why.

a/n i don’t love this but i’ve been thinking about it so much i could not get hw done so i busted it out rq! (ps it’s highly unedited)

the door to the bedroom you and your boyfriend, trevor, were currently residing in at the lake house was thrown open, waking you both up in the process.

this shouldn’t be a problem, right? wrong.

see, you’re quinn’s best friend, and you had your own room at the lake house for the summer— a room in which you were not currently in. apparently alex let slip that you and trevor are dating to quinn, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled that you two kept it a secret for three months.

“quinnathan, what in gods name are you doing waking us up at 8:30 in the morning?” you groaned into trevor’s chest.

that’s when it hit you.

you jolted up halfway and pulled the comforter up to your chin.

“are you wearing clothes?” quinn asked flatly. you pulled down the blanket and snapped your underwear band for him and jack to see, “i’m wearing a shirt and underwear.”

“good. trevor, come with me, jack, go to y/n.”

you slid away from trevor and out stretched your arms, making grabby hands at jack, “come here my love!”

jack climbed into the bed and collapsed on top of you and the blanket and wrapped his arms around you. your hands went straight to his upper body and you started to pet his hair.

“now hold on, before i get the best friend grilling, i gotta know why you still call jack your love,” trevor said as he sat up.

you tightened your hold on jack and buried your face into his neck, “i don’t wanna say.”

“as your boyfriend,” trevor said, poking you teasingly as he emphasized boyfriend as a tell that he’s only intrigued, not mad, “i would like to know why he is your love.”

jack sat up to look at you, and quinn also looked like he wanted to know. you sighed and sat up against the headboard. you had a legitimate reason. it wasn’t just a pet name you said one day and it stuck.

“it’s sappy and mushy and cringy, you guys really don’t want to know.”

“well now i have to know,” jack said.

“spill it, y/n/n,” quinn echoed.

“fine. but when i say this, know i’m talking about love as an umbrella term, not as i love you, z, okay?”

when everyone agreed to your terms for listening to your reasoning, you began.

“when i think about the personification of love, or if love was a person, i think of how kind love would be. love would make you feel safe no matter where you were, and would go out of their way to make you feel that if a situation arose to where you didn’t feel safe. love would make you feel like anywhere could be home with them. your home, love’s home, a target parking lot.

“love’s laugh would be so contagious that it could pull you out of the worst of moods, even for just a second. and their smile would light up a room and make you dread the day someone put out that flame. love would put everything they had into a hug, or even a simple touch on the shoulder, to make you know that they mean it. there’s feeling and purpose into every touch they give. love somehow would always know when you need them, even if you didn’t explicitly say so. love would be there for you in ways you didn’t even know were possible, even from hundreds of miles away.

“being loved by love would be a privilege and a gift. love would love to fiercely, that you never question whether they do or not. love would express their love in a way that deserves its own word. and if that isn’t jack hughes, i don’t know what is.”

you were looking down the entire time you spoke, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt around your hands. you looked up when you felt the bed dip and locked eyes with quinn, who looked like he could cry.

“you’re a poet, did you know that?” quinn said earnestly.

you chuckled and blushed at your best friend’s words, “thanks quinny.”

“that’s the biggest compliment i’ve ever received,” jack said. he gathered you into his arms and hugged you tightly from behind, with everything he had.

trevor caught your attention by grabbing your hand and holding it close to his heart. you were kinda scared the whole time you spoke that he would be offended. it wasn’t that you didn’t think of him when you thought about love. it’s that when you think of how you want to love, you think of how jack loves.

“hey babe?”

“yeah?”

“i jack hughes you,” trevor smiled.

you all erupted into laughter until your stomachs hurt. your fears were immediately wiped away, and you weren’t embarrassed anymore that you told that to them.

“i jack hughes you, too, trev.”

trevor leaned over and kissed you softly, grinning into the kiss.

“alright, off to get the protective best friend talk, wish me luck!”

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #hughes brothers #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl players #jack hughes #trevor zegras imagine

[gwnwrites]

Losing | Oliver Wood x GN!Reader

Summary: Gryffindor loses the match against Hufflepuff.

Words: 1,8k

Warnings: None, just fluff. + Angst if you squint.

A/n: I rewatched Prisoner of Azkaban a few days ago, and suddenly became inspired to write. No use of y/n. Reader doesn’t have a specific gender. No specific Hogwarts House. Although, reader is supporting Gryffindor during the Quidditch match. Oliver and the reader are close friends. I might write a part two where they confess their feelings.

PS: I believe ‘Mo ghràdh’ means my love in Scottish Gaelic. Please correct me if I’m wrong!

This is based off the following conversation in the book:

“Where is Wood?” said Harry, suddenly realising he wasn’t there.

“Still in the showers,” said Fred. “We think he’s trying to drown himself.”

—

Oliver was nervous before the Quidditch match. He usually was. So after years of being friends with him, you knew all of his tells.

The first one was pacing.

The second one was running his hands through his hair.

The third one was rambling, which resulted in your extensive knowledge of Quidditch.

Oliver was usually consistent with his tells. However, today was different.

Oliver was oddly silent as the two of you sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He rarely looked up at you, and when he did, it was because you weren’t looking directly at him.

You weren’t the only one who noticed Oliver’s strange behaviour. Throughout breakfast, a few students sent worried looks toward Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain.

“Oliver,” you said. He looked up from his untouched porridge. He noticed that your bowl was empty.

“Are you okay? You seem awfully quiet today.” You paused, “Is it because I asked you last week to stop talking about Quidditch? I didn’t mean it. I was only trying to finish my Herbology essay.”

“It’s not that,” he sighed. His gaze traveled up to the ceiling, which mimicked the stormy weather outside. After a moment, he looked back at you.

“It’s Gryffindor’s last chance to win the Quidditch cup while I’m still at Hogwarts. I’ll never have another chance.”

Oliver had always wanted to win the Quidditch cup. And ever since he became the captain in fourth year, he had been working harder than ever. Practices took place regularly during the school year, and during the summer, while everyone rested, Oliver spent his time devising Quidditch plays.

“Oliver,” you began, “you’re an amazing Quidditch player, and the best captain that Gryffindor has ever had. You’ve got an amazing team, and that’s because of your leadership.”

He smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

—

The rain. Of course, rain was not usually a problem during Quidditch matches. But with the fact that there were hundreds of Dementors roaming the school grounds, you knew ‘calm’ wouldn’t be the word to describe Oliver.

As you sat among other students in the Quidditch Stands, you hoped Oliver was ok. You wanted to stay in the Gryffindor team’s tent before the match began, but Madam Hooch said it was best not to distract the captain. Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought back. Why would you ‘distract’ him? You never-

“I’m sure he’s fine,” a voice beside you said. You jumped slightly, before realising it was Percy.

“You think?” You clung tightly to your jacket’s hood to prevent it from flapping around in the wind. You turned to the side to get a better look at Percy.

“He puts too much pressure on himself. And still, Gryffindor wins the matches. Harry’s great, he’ll get the snitch in no time.” His gaze remained on the field. He held onto the hood of his own jacket.

“I hope so. This weather is awful,” you said. You looked up at the sky. The dark clouds gave no indication of sunny weather any time soon. You looked at Percy. Despite the rain his glasses were dry. He must have used the Impervius charm, you thought.

“I thought you said you didn’t watch Quidditch matches,” you said.

“I don’t.”

—

The stands filled up with students as the minutes passed. You were beginning to wonder if the match was actually going to begin, but then you heard the commentator’s voice.

“Starting off the first Quidditch match of the season is Gryffindor against Hufflepuff,” Lee Jordan said into the microphone.

“I’m sure all of us are excited to see what happens today, especially after last year’s match was cancelled due to the Basilisk attacks. Although, I think- Oh, sorry, Professor. I’ll just stick to commenting on the current match.”

Specks of red walked onto the field. Six of them mounted their brooms and flew up. A few did tricks as they passed the stands. The crowd supporting Gryffindor began to cheer.

“Here they are!” Lee exclaimed. “Gryffindor flies onto the field. Gryffindor’s captain, Wood, must be feeling intense pressure, after all, this his last year at Hogwarts.”

“Someone really needs to take that microphone away from him,” Percy said.

The only remaining Gryffindor -who was Oliver- stood on the ground near the tent.

The other team emerged from the neighbouring tent. Like the Gryffindors, six of the Hufflepuff got onto their brooms. They flew toward their positions, while their captain walked toward Oliver.

“The opposing team, Hufflepuff, makes their way onto the field.” Lee said as the crowd supporting Hufflepuff burst into applause. “Their newest captain is Cedric Diggory.”

You watched closely as the cloaked Madam Hooch walked toward the captains. The box, containing the Quidditch balls, was already on the field. The captains quickly shook hands, and got onto their brooms. Oliver, being Gryffindor’s keeper, flew toward his goal post, and Cedric darted to the middle of the field. As the Hufflepuff seeker, his job was to look for the snitch.

Madam Hooch’s whistle was blown.

“The match begins!” Lee said. The crowd cheered louder.

—

As the match went on, the storm became worse, and eventually Lee’s commentary couldn’t be heard over the wind. You and Percy watched as the specks of red and yellow flew back and forth across the field, again and again.

The weather made it hard to tell who was who. When either of you thought you saw Oliver, the speck of red flew in the direction of the bludgers, meaning it was either Fred or George.

About 10 minutes into that game, you heard the whistle blow. The Gryffindor team huddled under an umbrella in one of the far corners of the field.

“Harry’s a good seeker, but I don’t think he’ll be able to see the snitch in this weather,” you said loudly so Percy would be able to hear.

Percy sighed, “I just hope he catches it soon, otherwise the match will continue all night.”

Soon after, Madam Hooch blew her whistle again, and the match resumed.

The crowd stood in the rain as they watched the match. A few lightning strikes were seen in the sky, causing some of the younger students to scream.

“I think Diggory’s spotted the snitch!” A Slytherin boy called out. He had been sitting a few seats to the right of you and Percy.

You looked for the Hufflepuff seeker, and eventually saw a yellow speck darting up into the sky. A red speck, who you suspected was Harry, followed him closely. They flew so high up that the crowd was unable to see them.

Chatter erupted among the crowd.

One of them became visible. Falling. Gryffindor’s seeker, Harry, had fallen off his broom and was plummeting toward the ground. You pushed past the people in the stands, and hurried to the stairs leading to the field. Percy followed close behind you. By the time you reached the bottom, Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team were gone.

“They must have already gone to the Hospital Wing,” he stated. You nodded, and rushed off in the direction of Hogwarts.

—

The corridor outside the Hospital Wing was crowded. Everyone was worried about Harry. A Ravenclaw prefect stood in the doorway.

“Madam Pomfrey says no one is to enter the Hospital Wing until she says so,” he grumbled. He didnt seem in a good mood. A few surrounding students mumbled, and left.

“The Gryffindor team is in there, aren’t they?” You asked, standing in front of him, and trying to peak inside.

“They are, but you’re-” he was interrupted. George appeared next to the prefect in the doorway.

“There you are.” He said, “Thought you’d arrive soon.”

You ignored his comment. Whatever it meant. “Is Harry ok? That fall was pretty high.”

George’s face was pale, he nodded. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Hufflepuff-” He hesitated, “They won the match.”

“How? Harry fell off his broom. There should be a rematch.” You frowned slightly.

He sighed, “Diggory caught the snitch before Harry fell. Hufflepuff won fair and square. Even Oliver says so.”

Oliver. You tried to look over George’s shoulder. “Can I talk to him? Is he in there with the team?”

“Oliver isn’t here. You don’t know where he is?”

You shook your head, “No. Where is he?”

—

You knocked on the boy’s changeroom door. George had told you that it was only occupied by Oliver, but you didn’t want to barge in.

“Oliver, can I come in?”

There was no answer, the only noise was the running water in a shower.

“Oliver.” You stood outside for a moment before sighing. You pushed the door open.

The boy’s shower room appeared to be empty. Then you saw Oliver’s bag and Quidditch broom on one of the benches against the right wall.

“Oliver?” You said, looking toward the showers.

“Mo ghràdh?”

You looked toward where his voice came from. He sat with his legs to his chest in one of the shower cubes. He was still wearing his Quidditch robes. The shower tap was turned on, and the water caused his clothes to cling to him.

You approached him, and turned off the shower tap as you stepped inside the shower. You sat beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You knew how much this match meant to him.

He lifted his head, “How’d you know where I was?”

“I went to the Hospital Wing first. I thought you were there since the team was. George told me you were here.”

He nodded. He still hadn’t looked at you.

“Oliver, I know this is about the Cup,” you said, looking at him. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

He sighed, “It’s just- I’ve always wanted to win the Quidditch Cup. It’s been *years* since we have, and not while I’ve been apart of the team.”

“But this wasn’t the Quidditch Cup final, Oliver. This was the first match. Gryffindor still has a shot to win the Cup,” you said.

You paused, “You put too much pressure on yourself. Even Percy says so, and he rarely leaves the library.”

Oliver looked at you, raising his eyebrows. “Percy said that? When?”

“Right before the match started. We were already seated.”

“Is Harry alright?”

“He’ll be alright. The team’s with him.”

Oliver was silent for a moment. “George told you I’m trying to drown myself, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

He shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Of course he did.”

“You’re not?” You said, “Trying to drown yourself, I mean.”

He laughed softly. “No, I’m not. If I wanted to, I think I would’ve gone to the Black Lake.”

“You had the shower on.”

“I was cold. The shower was warm,” he said. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Being a good friend. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

-

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want a part 2.

#oliver wood x reader #gwnwrites #oliver wood #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood angst

[multifandommilfs]

Our Last Hundred Years

Pairing: Andy x reader

Wc: 2377

Angst, fluff ps sorry Nile

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It had been long since Andy took off to the pharmacy, way too long. It caused worry to brew in your chest. It was usually after a battle that Andy would stay as close as possible to the team to check in on everyone time and time again. Damn it, you buried your face in your palms, paranoia gnawing at the pit of your stomach. What if another wave of army storms in right now? You grit your teeth in frustration, forcing your mind to listen to Nile and Booker's faint conversation. 

 

The door to the old mine creaked open, natural light pouring in. You leapt up instantaneously, giving your teammates an open palm telling them to wait. One step, two steps, you made sure your gait was light as you unsheathed a knife. Yeah, it could very well be Andy, but at this point, you weren't ready to take any risks. 

 

The door to the open space was a narrow flight of stairs and a blind spot just off to the sight where you hid. Thump, thump, thump came in quick succession. In the darkness, your heart sped, the grip on your blade tightened. 

 

The brown coat was what you saw first which was enough to make you launch at her, encasing her in an embrace with relief. She yelped at the blitz attack, body tensing when your arms wrapped around her neck. "Ow shit." She swore softly when your elbows hit her shoulder and you pulled back quickly. Ow? You hadn't heard that since forever. 

 

"Hey, I'm taking Andy out! Just outside!" You hollered while scrutinizing the woman before you. 

 

"Sounds like a bad date!" A round of snickers came from them, and you rolled your eyes. "Says the person who doesn't have a date." 

 

"Ooh! Burnt!" Nile said, but you were dragging Andy upstairs by her arm, hearing her sharp inhalation was more concerning than her absence. Though it might be undetected when it came to others, you had been with her since the birth of everything, you knew her, you could have her tell you what she held back with a look. That's why your glance at her wasn't returned.

 

You chose a shrouded spot where greenery thrived. 

 

"You have something to tell me." You said with arms akimbo, but let your features remain lax, so she wouldn't feel so asphyxiated by your demand. Nevertheless, she chewed on her lower lip, eyes meeting yours momentarily before they darted back to the grassy ground. She couldn't tell you about it. 

 

You let out a breath, dropping your hands from your waist. "Andy..." Your fingers tipped her chin up softly, her gaze remained everywhere but you. "Look at me please?" You manoeuvred into her line of sight, luring her eyes to you. It was then that you noticed a sheen of tears gleaming in her irises, the downcast of her lips. "I'm worried, I have been worried, will you please tell me what's wrong?" 

 

She let out a bitter laugh, brows furrowing as the tears thickened, threatening to fall. You had always been her weakness and her strength, but most importantly, you were the one she trusted to ravage her mind after Qunyh. 

 

She had to tell you but her lower lip wobbled in fear even when she was mentally preparing herself. A glance to the entrance of the old mine and around it proved that there were no traces of eavesdroppers, so her gaze trailed back to you. 

 

"I went to get medicine for my wounds." She winced at how indirect she was being but you were listening intently. 

 

"What are you saying?" 

 

"My wounds, i- they-" She squeezed her eyes shut. How could something she had desired for so long become something so dreadful? "They won't heal." Her voice turned into a whisper because even she couldn't believe the fact. Six thousand years she lived, and suddenly her immortality was stripped away by the stab of a knife. 

 

When she peeled open her eyelids, she was met with a deep furrow cutting in between your brows. "T- that's ridiculous, no, no, that's not supposed to happen, Andy, are you sure you're not misreading it?" 

 

"I'm sure." She saw how tears prickled your eyes, with red rims already forming around your eyes.

 

"Let me see it." You said firmly and scuffed your foot as if you were losing balance. Before she could even reply, you tore the coat off her shoulder, immediately sensing the faint scent of metallic. Your eyes were next to see the damage, red seeping out of the fresh bandage. 

 

"Okay?" She asked, shrugging the coat back up as you staggered back in disbelief. 

 

"No." Your exhale was shaky, and your knees dropped you onto the ground. Six thousand years together and you were left with less than a hundred with her. It was laughable but your mind could only connect to the newest member of the team. Shit has been falling ever since her arrival. 

 

"Is it the girl? Is it Nile? It was yesterday- yesterday when she really accepted herself and today- " Tears gathered in your eyes as you dared a look at her.

 

"I don't know, darling." Her arms wrapped tightly around her midriff. She paused before her eyes drew to you. "We'll figure it out." 

 

"It's her and you know it! Ever since she came, shit's been going down the fucking hill!" Your voice rose, and Andy glanced at the basement door in nervousness. "Stop it!" She hissed.

 

"She's leaving." Your demand made Andy's gaze flit to you in shock. "No, that's- she has nowhere to turn to, y/n!" Her voice turned into a yell because you were slamming the door open to the mine, heading straight for Nile with Andy on your tail, shouting something. But you were mad, heart pounding, seeing red, mad. 

 

In a quick motion, you dragged the girl up by her shoulders, slamming her against the wall and yelling something you couldn't hear yourself say. All you could remember was Andy telling you, "It won't heal," and the look in her eyes: fright. It was enough to kick up your defence. 

 

"You did this! You did this!" The words mustn't be yours, your voice was never that raw.

 

Then you were flying back too fast for your legs to catch up. There was pressure around your shoulders. A sharp pain jabbed the crook of your knee and you kneeled. Andy held you in a vice grip on the ground as you thrashed until you ran out of strength. With wetness on your face, you sobbed as Andy hoisted you into her lap. 

 

"I can't live without you, I don't know how to live without you." You pushed your face into the crook of her neck, breathing raggedly. 

 

"You'll live-" she started softly but you cut her off. "I'll exist! I- I don't live without y- you. I won't have a fucking life, I won't have anything, I can't d-do anything!" Your hands gripped her coat. It was an old coat you got for her, it was one of the first coats that were made, but it was still too new to preserve the memory of Andy when you had thousands of years left to live. 

 

Booker could only comfort Nile and stare at the both of you. He was never really a witness to your emotions, having avoided them after he left his family. But here Andy was whispering something in your ear as you held on as if your life were vanishing before your eyes. 

 

The following weeks were never the same, even after the 'experiment for the greater good fiasco', and Booker's hundred year excommunication. You were pulling Andy out of Nile's proximity in hopes that she'd regain her immortality. Joe and Nicky were well-informed of your feud with Nile. They were all adamant it would blow over, but there came a day when enough was enough. 

 

Today was that day. 

 

"You've got to stop this." Nicky leant against the kitchen counter, a small smile on his lips as you busied yourself with dinner. 

 

You made no sound, moving from the stew to put dirty dishes into the sink. "Am I getting the silent treatment too?" Nicky spun you over by your waist when you passed him so that you couldn't avoid him anymore. 

 

You huffed. "You want me to stop cooking? Fine, you take over." You shoved a ladle in his hands, but he crushed you into a hug. "You shouldn't hurt others because you're hurting." 

 

Your fingers balled up his shirt as your chin adjusted to a more comfortable position. He swayed a little, arms tied around your waist. "It isn't Nile's fault that Andy is now a mortal." 

 

"It is, I think it is. You would do the same if it were Joe." 

 

"For a while, yes, I would presume. But you cannot create an answer to an unanswerable question. Nile is not the answer y/n. There is no answer to why we lose our immortality." 

 

He heard you sniffle. "The stew is boiling." You pulled away slowly, putting out the flame and moving to wash the dirty dishes.

 

"Okay?" He asked when he joined you, pulling you in to kiss your cheek before taking his fair share of dishes. You looked at him, teary-eyed, letting yourself work automatically. "What happens if I don't know? Andy, she's out there right now, with Nile and Joe, and-" you grabbed the kitchen knife, slathering it with dish soap.

 

 "And- I can't function. It's not like I will die but how do you function with the knowledge that you'll lose everything in the next few decades? Not even a century, just five or six decades and she'll-" The blade slipped, cutting your finger as you hissed in pain, garnering Nicky's attention to your wound. Blood seeped out of it, a sight you've seen a thousand times.

 

Just then, the house bustled with energy as they barged in. Andy and Nile laughing at Joe's joke as they dumped groceries onto the table. Your attention was diverted, and the pain subsided when you had to catch rolling apples and oranges before they hit the ground from the toppled paper bags. 

 

"Watch your head." Andy said softly, resting her hand on the edge of the table when you ducked out from beneath the table. 

 

And you had to savour her affections when there was not enough time to accept them absentmindedly. She saw the exhaustion on your features, the worry that was wordlessly telling her to stop caring about you so that you wouldn't have to miss her that much. 

 

Frustration built up in her, she wanted to care with the time she had left. "Come here for a second?" She requested. 

 

You wasted no time in avoiding her, heading in Nile's direction. God knows you owed her some clarity even if you didn't forgive her. 

 

It was a split second touch, Andy's fingers slipped to yours and you winced in pain. "Fuck!"Your hand was now cradled in another, close to your chest. 

 

The chit-chatter dropped in an instant, everyone's heads creaked in your direction like a nightmare, their widened eyes hovering. "Fuck." You whispered under your breath when you understood the situation. 

 

Then, unexpected to yourself, a sliver of happiness curled up your lips just when everyone started panicking and crowding around you. 

 

Andy was gripping your hand as blood slipped from your finger to touch the back of her palm, leaving a trail of red. Nile, in shock, was left behind when Nicky and Joe, with worry present in their expressions, mumbled something, then closed their eyes, praying and begging for your wound to heal. But it wasn't healing, not in the least when Andy's grip tightened and more blood seeped from the cut. 

 

You were smiling, lipless, as your eyes drifted to Andy's frustrated ones, and you wondered if that was the expression you were wearing when she became mortal. 

 

"I'm sorry." Nile said aloud but it only caught your attention. You turned to her, remembering her pariah because of your doing. "I mean, it's me, isn't it? I'm doing this, I'm causing all your... immortality, I'm..." Tears surfaced in her eyes. "I'm killing you guys." 

 

"No- no. No, Nile, you're not killing us, and you shouldn't be sorry." You paused, glancing at Nicky for affirmation he granted. "I am the one who should be sorry for making you the answer to an unanswerable question. So I'm, I'm so sorry, Nile, for casting you out of our family." You breathed, ignoring the tickle of pain on your finger, and continued. "Being a grownup, I expected more of myself than to outcast a fellow soldier, and I know you do too. I was emotional and irrational during the unexpected. So I owe everyone an apology." You let your gaze linger on each member of your family, your troop, "I'm sorry, Nile, for not treating you the way I should've. Nicky, Joe, I'm sorry for having both of you in the middle of my problems. I'm sorry, sweetheart, for not being more accepting of your change." 

 

Tears dripped down Nile's cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you for that apology." She gritted out through her emotions, wiping away her tears on her sleeve. Nicky and Joe gave you a watery laugh of relief while Andy's nails dug lightly into your wrist, reminding you of your wound. "So, um, I'm mortal." You shook your head in disbelief. "What do I do?" 

 

"Well, first of all, don't outcast me again." Nile said, and you broke into watery laughs. 

 

"No, I won't." You assured her, then turned to Andy, her sad eyes desperately searched yours, tears filling up. "What do we do?" 

 

"We die." You gave her a soft smile. "We get our dream, and we die, together. And when we do," you swivelled over to the rest of your team momentarily. "You make sure to bury us together in the same grave, six feet deep, or I swear I'll haunt your asses until you die. And god knows how long that'll take." 

 

Wet laughter filled the room. Andy took her bottom lip in, nodding in acceptance. "That's the best plan I've heard in six thousand years." 

#charlize theron x reader #charlize theron #the old guard #andy #andromache of scythia x reader #andromache the scythian x reader #andromache the scythian #andy x reader

[tomsparkyr]

𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

summary: after a match, mason has to be interviewed as per usual. this one a little more exciting as the woman behind the camera is his girlfriend.

masterlist

mason mount x fem!reader

I LOVE THIS CONCEPT !! ps sorry i deleted it

writing this while pretending that loss didn’t happen,, fucking hell roll on west ham😅

warnings: fluff, there’s literally none, oh my bad writing

word count: 1K+

please don’t steal any of my work, thank you !

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 won their first match after a sour spat of defeats at the beginning of the season. The team was buzzing, the fans were wild, the stadium was loud as ever as the Liverpool fans poured out the premises as soon as they could.

Mason had carried the team, scoring two goals and gaining an assist with the third for Sterling. To say you were proud was an understatement. You watched him celebrate with the fans at Stamford Bridge, a home win for his belt of pride.

You could have stood their and stared at him all day like that. His wide smile and laugh you could practically hear from here, the crinkles around his eyes showing just how much joy he was in in that moment; leaving you content as you couldn’t wait for his big bear hug you would receive the second you were in private.

Your relationship with Mason was far from public, absolutely. Imagine the scandals if rowdy football fans found out that Mason Mount, Chelsea’s Starboy, was secretly living with his longterm girlfriend, who— might I add— is the voice you overhear on every Premier League match, before and after. The one holding the microphone to your favourite player spilling positives and negatives, after commenting on their performance for the previous 90 minutes.

People would jump straight to conclusions, assuming Mason was sleeping with you just to earn the positives from the press. Or if you making out with Chelsea’s heartthrob just to earn this job. It was a relationship written for the headlines. Hence, why you kept it so quiet for the current year long relationship.

A hand on your shoulder brought your attention off of Mason, turning around and seeing one of your fellow colleagues signalling that it was time for the interviews.

Now it wasn’t like you got unprofessional during these interviews, never to put it lightly. But yet again, have you ever had to interview your boyfriend who was probably the most annoying person to keep a secret? The man would crack a smile at anything and those wide eyes could be read by borderline everyone at home watching this on TV, not knowing the guy personally.

This was far from your first time interviewing Mason. But seeing his giddy run over to the platform and goofy smile on his face as he watched you set up the microphone for him, you knew you’d be in trouble this time.

You both straightened your posture as the voice of the cameraman was heard behind you, “And we’re rolling!”

You both looked at each other for a moment before starting, his smile widened and cheeks turned a blush rosey. You felt your skin get hot under his gaze, even though you’ve done this hundreds of times, Mason always had that effect on you.

You cleared your throat, “Hello, Mr Mount.” Mason snorted at the nickname and ducked his head down to laugh momentarily, realising he was on national television and had been called that name multiple times by tens of other people.

You closed your eyes and shook your head to restrain yourself from giggling along with him. “Congratulations on your two goals and assist.” You nodded at him adorning a smile, letting him know that you truly meant that comment.

He looked to the side to hide his growing grin and responded with a remark to your previous comment, “Thank you, Ma’am.”

“That’s—“ You cut yourself off with a small giggle that erupted from nowhere and coughed slightly to cover up your mistake, face turning red as you saw Mason pull his features together to stop himself from bursting out laughing. It wasn’t all that funny in reality, but when you’re in the moment, it seems like the funniest thing in the world.

Mason’s lips were pressed together tightly to stop laughter before it began, nodding at you to continue what you had started saying before you interpreted yourself.

“That’s alright, Mr Mount.” There was the nickname again, you paused to breathe before continuing. “How do you feel after a win so important like this? Liverpool are a tough team to beat, correct?”

Mason looked up at you with a grin, dimples prominent and hair messy on the top of his head. “Yeah, it was a tough game, great team and we just got lucky I guess. You know, when your missus is in the crowd, you gotta impress her somehow.” He winked, hinting at you but leaving the audience oblivious.

You blushed profusely, itching your neck to calm your nerves, the only man to make you feel this way watching you. “Lucky woman, huh?”

“The best.” He tilted his head, responding. His gaze was fixated on you, thinking you were the most beautiful person the ever grace the earth, wondering if he was lucky enough one day to call you Mrs Mount, ironically.

A hand on his shoulder shook him from his thought, looking up a meeting eyes with his Head Coach, Graham Potter.

“I’ll take it from here, Mason.” He nodded with wide eyes, initiating that if he answered one more question, the entirety of people watching on their TV screens right now would 100% figure out the relationship between the two of you, no one looks at someone that way if they’re only gonna spend the next minute and a half with them; more like the rest of their life.

Mason nodded at his Manager, smiling at you before he left. The cameras cut not long after you interview Potter, the man welcoming and open to answering your non-pestering questions.

As you were packing up your things, Graham tapped you on the back and said “You know you could just make out with Mason on camera and it would be just as obvious to what the Hell I just watched.” Chucking and slipping out the room as if it was nothing, leaving you stunned as it seemed that everyone was already aware of your relationship with Mason behind the camera.

this was SO BAD IM SO SORRY

#mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount #mason mount angst #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x you #mason mount masterlist #mason mount x footballer!reader

[junosmindpalace]

hi! i've been rewatching a few tdliosk eps every once in a while and i kinda missed kusuo 😩 and since it's christmas season i was wondering if u could write a saiki x fem reader one-shot in reference to season 1 ep 16 where saiki dresses up as santa and distributes presents to the kids in their neighborhood? so uhm when he was about to go home, he sees reader walking in the street (she lives nearby) also dressed up as santa for some reason lol. saiki and her are friends to say the least but there's an unspoken mutual pining stuff going on between them. saiki walks her home then she suddenly sees a mistletoe on one of the houses... reader froze and blushes hard and saiki got confused so he read her mind and he was like oh... he's hesitating on whether he'll kiss her or not but much to his surprise reader makes the first move 😆 tysm and pls take ur time! ❤

hi there! Thank you so much for your request! I couldn’t resist writing one of my more recent requests especially with the holiday theme…i hope you enjoy!

ps., dialogue in italics are kusuos inner thoughts/talking via telepathy!

warnings: angst? maybe? if you squint?

wc: 1.4k

The last person Saiki wanted to see today was you. 

It was already a pain going door to door dealing with all the brats in his neighborhood, but suddenly it was a hundred times more embarrassing when you were nervously eyeing his Santa get-up in confusion. 

But something that sort of lessened his dread upon running into you was that you too were also wearing a costume like his.

Saiki had spent his entire evening playing this Santa delivering presents to the children in his neighborhood, courtesy of his parents. He flew around the sky with a sack full of presents, just like the real deal. He’s dealt with all sorts of headaches tonight- a scared child, a non-believer, and a family conflict, to name a few. By the time his sack was empty, Kusuo was exhausted and ready to head home, opting to simply walk with his empty bag instead of teleporting as he didn’t live far. He regrets this decision immediately, however, when he runs into you. Which leads him to the dilemma he’s put himself in right now. 

“Oh no…of course I'd run into Y/N at this very moment. Why didn’t I just teleport home as soon as I finished?”

Just like with the rest of his friends, Saiki found you a nuisance, someone who interfered with his ability to lead a “normal” and peaceful life, but for a different reason than the rest of his peers. The two of you had been friends for a long time, longer than any of his current ones, but your relationship has felt different recently, and it’s been stressing Saiki out. 

As of late, Saiki has taken notice of some new uncomfortable feelings that only arise around you. Tightness in his chest, a weird sensation in his stomach. He doesn’t get sick, so obviously these symptoms alarm Kusuo. What was even more alarming was the fact that they were recurring, and most alarming of all, they were only recurrent around you. 

He’d been trying to avoid the most dreadful conclusion for these feelings ever since he noted that they only arose around you. He’s heard the signs a million times thanks to his love-crazed classmates. Clammy hands, he’s got it. A burning feeling in his chest? A blazing feeling, even. It brought him a sense of horror unlike any other, but after being unable to rid himself of his troublesome feelings, he’d come to the conclusion that yes, he, of all people, has a crush. Even worse, it was a crush on one of the only tolerable people in his life.

Maybe this conclusion wasn’t all that shocking, but it certainly didn’t make Kusuo feel any good. He’d been friends with you for years, spending all that time getting to know you and growing comfortable with you, and now suddenly he feels something more than friendship? Him of all people, the psychic who thought that it was his very nature not to be romantically involved with anyone? It turned his view of himself upside down. 

Saiki reached this conclusion not too long ago, and he’s still trying to figure out what to do with it. What was even worse about the ordeal was that your thoughts, as of late, have also been worrisome, seemingly more eager than usual to be around Saiki and questioning yourself whenever you caught yourself thinking of him in a not-so-just-friends kind of way. He's been trying his best to avoid you until he can figure out how to dispose of these feelings without them growing and without you catching on, as it seemed that they only intensified each time he saw you, and that wasn’t something he wanted.

Yet here you were, and for some reason, you were also in a Santa getup like Kusuo.

And after recovering from your initial moment of shock, you spoke out into the quiet, frigid atomosphere.  “Kusuo? Is that you?”

-

As you lived near Kusuo, the two of you accompanied each other on your walks home. You both removed your beards and hats to see and talk to each other properly, and you anxiously explained to Saiki the reasoning behind your getup after he explained his own, flustered that he caught you at such an embarrassing time. 

“Well, my work required me to wear something festive, and I got stuck with Santa out of all our costumes. I would have preferred an elf or even a snowman over Santa. I’ve been sweating all day.” You laughed nervously as you held your gaze to the ground and your beard up in defeat. But then you let your arm drop to its side and you turned toward him with a small smile. 

“I think it’s nice what you did, even if your parents coaxed you into it. Not many people would step up like you did tonight.”

Saiki stared at you exasperatedly. Usually Saiki doesn’t care for any sort of praise he receives, and he really (and I mean truly), doesn’t mean to brag, but he usually receives a lot. He doesn’t think much of it, but something about it coming from you makes him reflect, which pained him. He hates the effect you have on him, which is why he’s been trying to stay away. But somehow, he always keeps finding his way back to you, and you to him. He has to deal with a lot of irritating people on a daily basis, but you were his ultimate headache. Just how was he about to go about this new development in your relationship? It made him uneasy to think that things would have to change between you two, that things were already changing. Was it because he let you so close to him that he developed these feelings for you? That he’s gotten so vulnerable, so much more anxious and scared? Was he right about relationships in general being nothing but an inconvenience? 

Your house came before his, and out of respect, Kusuo walked you to your doorstep, deep in almost dark thought about his feelings. You didn’t mind Kusuo being quiet, and for the most part, your dynamic has usually consisted of you being the more talkative one. Besides, you were both exhausted from your eventful evenings. What you didn’t expect was for Saiki to follow behind you as you climbed up the steps to your porch. When you turned around behind you, your eyes widened in alarm.

“Oh no, Saiki, it’s okay, you don’t need to-!”

By the time he stopped in his tracks, your warning was futile. Saiki stared in confusion over your panicked face, your eyes carrying a sort of frenzied look in them. “What? What’s with the sudden dismissal? I only-”

And suddenly his own eyes widened in panic as he realized his error, his miscalculation. He’s beating himself up for not being more cautious, especially during this time of year. How could he be so careless?

Kusuo slowly turned his head up, almost in fear, to get a better view of the mistletoe that hung above the two of you. 

“My family thought…it would be sweet…”

Saiki stared in horror with his mouth open at the plant before quickly turning his attention back to you. What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t entitled to kissing you, he could obviously refuse. But his stomach churned. Did he really want to be turned down? The thought, even if it cropped up for a second, made him want to slap himself and hurl. 

The two of you stared at each other nervously in silence for a couple of moments before you suddenly took a deep breath. Saiki’s eyes widened even further. “Are they seriously going to kiss me? I didn’t think they’d have the courage to make a move like that. Their thoughts never indicated-”

Warm lips met his cheek for the swiftest moment before only a tingling sensation lingered. It had happened so quick it left him feeling dazed from being pulled out so suddenly from his thoughts. His surprised gaze still firmly held your nervous one, and silence fell between the two of you for a brief moment. 

“Thank you for walking me home. Merry Christmas, Saiki.” You quickly sputtered out these final words before turning on your heel and quickly heading inside, thankful that the door was left unlocked by one of your family members like you had asked earlier that evening. 

Saiki couldn’t help but linger at the porch for a few seconds, staring at the closed door before slowly turning around and continuing the path toward his house.

There was good reason for him to want to avoid you, especially tonight. When he got home and headed into the kitchen to greet his mother, she commented absentmindedly on the deep rose that settled into his face from the cold, and talked to no one in particular about how wonderful and joyous the Christmas season was.

wishing you all a happy and healthy 2023!! thank you for all the support i’ve received this past year <3

#tdlosk x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k oneshot #the disastrous life of saiki k headcanons #kusuo saiki x reader #kusuo saiki headcanons #kusuo saiki hcs #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki x reader #saiki k hcs #saiki k oneshot #saiki k imagines #saiki k x reader #kusuo saiki oneshot