#these are literally all muses i had at one point or another

[hxnbi]

「 A FALLEN MIRACLE 」

ღ okkotsu yuta x gn. reader — wc. 2.5k

synopsis: never did he think that he would have to say goodbye so soon. not like this...

After losing Rika, Yuta felt his life crash down on him like a pile of bricks. And since then, he approached everything and anyone with a sense of caution. After all that he had been through his entire life, who could blame him?

Even so, Yuta still genuinely cared about people, and he especially found himself being increasingly attracted to you.

When Yuta was taken to Jujutsu Tech, you, also a first-year student, were initially asked by Gojo to mentor him and just generally help him get through life. You wondered why it was you, but when you looked back at it, and also at the rest of your classmates… it’s no wonder. There weren't exactly a plethora of options to begin with.

It was the option between a talking, horny panda, a boy who could hardly even communication, if you could even call it talking through the phrases of onigiri ingredients “communication,” and a girl with borderline anger issues. 

You never had a choice on the subject—not while Gojo was at the helm—but that was beside the point. Your friendship with Yuta started off rough. He was a timid young boy constantly struggling to find his voice, quite literally. There was nothing he would say no to, and even less if that order came from you.

But over time, that awkwardness slowly morphed into something of a true friendship. A sort of bond forged in the trust you built for him, with a connection that grew stronger with each passing day. Up until then, at nearly any point of the day, wherever and whatever you were doing, you would have another figure following you wherever you went. It was to the point where everybody knew of Yuta’s undeniable infatuation with you. It was indeed a surprise to even the likes of Gojo. Well, it wasn’t like Yuta was particularly known for hiding his feelings. 

Yuta admired you so much. You had nerves of complete steel. You were confident, resilient, and strong. And above all that, you were selfless. You would, without a second thought, put yourself at risk rather than allow any of your fellow sorcerers and friends to get hurt.

But that would be your biggest weakness.

What all of the first-years expected to be a simple mission to exorcize a single rouge cursed spirit that was terrorizing the townspeople, turned into a complete and utter nightmare. One that no one would’ve ever expected. 

And especially not to someone so young…

It all started off lighthearted. The first-years, you, Maki, Toge, Panda, and Yuta, walked along the path where the cursed spirit was said to be, or at the very least around the area.

“Maybe we should split up,” Maki ordered when, by that point, they had been walking around for 30 minutes, and yet there was no sight of any spirits.

“I agree,” you nodded.

Maki placed her hand over her hips, looking over the others as she unofficially took the handle of the leader. “So, as for who gets paired with who, how about—”

“Yuta and [Y/n] should be together!” Panda piped in with a ginormous grin, shoving Maki to the side with his body.

“Why, you…” Maki scowled. If looks could kill, Panda would be flying off the face of the earth.

Ignoring the fire that was burning from Maki, the panda then slung his arm around Yuta’s shoulders, musing, “Yuta and [Y/n] would make a good team, especially when paired with their techniques. Besides, they’ve gone on missions together plenty of times. It’s a no-brainer! Right, Yuta~?” 

It was painfully obvious what Panda was trying to get at. And unfortunately for Yuta, Panda hit the exact nail on the head.

The poor boy gaped, scampering with his words, only managing to find a couple that he could even say out loud. “I-I mean… I’m okay with it.”

Ignoring the blatant ear-piercing noise happening around you, you nodded your head. “Me too.”

And there it was, the two of you together, walking side by side. You had your hands clasped together behind your back, humming to a tune that Yuta was all too familiar with, having practically been attached to your hip since getting to know you.

Yuta clutched his katana tightly against his chest. It was embarrassing enough that Panda had brought up the topic, but now there was even more pressure to prove himself to you.

“…Argh!?” Yuta’s foot almost slipped as you suddenly paused right in front of him. “[Y/n]?!” he sputtered, taking a frantic step back to put some distance between you two. 

“Yuta~,” you mused. “I thought we were closer than that. Don’t tell me that I was the only one feeling this way?”

Yuta’s cheeks went red. “I, uh…”

“Haha, I’m just kidding around. I hoped that would lighten the mood. But I guess I was mistaken. Sorry about scaring you. Are you alright?” Your foot inched ever closer to his flushed face, pressing him into an undeniable blush.

His mouth was agape. “I-I-I!?”

“C’mon, let's go,” you hummed, already beginning to walk off, leaving Yuta speechless.

“Ah… r-right!”

And it didn’t take long, as just as you two were walking along a new set of pathways, and Yuta hesitated but quickly scurried beside you. 

Before long, your footsteps were opposed to the ground, suspiciously cranking your eyes to the alleyway next to your two and narrowing your eyes at the dark alleyway. Though it appeared barren without a soul in sight, what you were sensing was anything but. 

Yuta, now with his hand over the sheath of his katana, took a cautious step closer to wherever the obscurity was in that alleyway, feeling the chills.

“Hey, guess today is our lucky day, huh?” you grinned, readying your weapons. 

He meekly nodded. “Yeah.” Yuta tightened the grip on the handle of his katana. Looking upward, something was floating in the air—a second-grade cursed spirit—and just as lucky, it was precisely the one they had been looking for. Though the darkness of the alleyway hindered his sight, its size and presence were easily distinguishable.

“Let's bring this one down together.”

But just as those words left your mouth, another strong presence came from right behind you.

You clicked your tongue. “Another one? That wasn’t what they mentioned to us earlier.”

Yuta looked side to side, and then back at you, but you weren’t panicked at all. In fact, far from it. “Yuta, you handle that one over there. I’ve got this one.”

“R-Right!”

He trusted you. 

Side by side, you both covered each other's backs. And it didn’t take long for blood to be shed. Nasty welts and bruises spread across the cursed spirit's body, and with a swift swipe, you finished it off with your cursed technique with ease. Horrifying screams of agony blasted through the sound barriers of both the student's eardrums from the curse as it flopped onto the bloodied ground, dead in its state.

“Phew.”

You turned your head, seeing that the cursed spirit was also just as still, lying lifeless beside Yuta as he speechlessly sent you a grimace.

“Good work,” you nodded. You wiped away the blood that was on your cheek. “Hah… well, guess that's it.”

Yuta meekly nodded his head, wiping down the blood from his katana.

“Yuta, how's it going over ther—” your head turned.

A shadow had appeared from below to loom over right over him.

 “Y-Yuta!”

It wasn’t dead.

“Yuta! Get out of the way!”

“H-Huh?” Just as everything was cooling down, he thought, Yuta heard a voice coming from his right, and then another. 

With one glance thrown the other way, he was shoved to the ground, giving him full access to the horror he would see next.

In just a second, blood poured from your throat and splattered to the ground. A cursed spirit had gotten after him, and yet it was you who was now collapsed onto the ground, holding onto dear life.

Yuta’s eyes went bloodshot red, and with his katana, immediately went for it, stabbing it. He looked on in terror as he saw your entire body slashed and crimson fluid dripping from all ends. Your trembling mouth was trying to say something. 

“Huh? W-What is it…?” he shook, stumbling over his words. Yuta knelt and tried to place his ear close by. 

But instead, you puked blood, and Yuta was forced to watch as the light in your eyes slowly dipped and your heartbeat fell.

“I-I can’t stop the bleeding…!”

Yuta was on the verge of tears as he embraced you in his arms, fearing for your life. You could feel the warmth of your blood leaving you and dipping onto the cold, concrete ground. The sticky consistency of the crimson liquid became thicker. Your body grew colder by the second. 

“Yuta…”

“…!”

“Are you... all right?” you managed to cough up.

His face paled. “Why… Of all the times to worry about me!?” His grip tightened, making you gasp.

“...”

You could feel his embrace around you tighten with desperation. His body shook from fear, possibly despair. It was all just a dream, right…? 

“...Why would you try and save me like that…?!” “I told you! I’m fine getting hurt! But…! But why did you—?!”

Unable to utter a word, you replied to his question with the voice in your heart, and, just barely, with a smile. And perhaps, your final one. ‘My feelings for you will always be the same. Even if we were to turn back the clock. Even if you told me not to save you. I still would have done it…’

“...”

“What…? I can’t hear.”

“I’m glad… you’re safe.”

His lungs filled with air, his voice trembling with anguish, heartache far worse than just emotion, pure sorrow, knowing that the time you left remaining would be taken away at any point. “How can you be glad!? You promised! Y-You promised that—” he broke the flow of his words, knowing that it wasn’t the right time.

You slowly let out a breath of relief. You didn’t feel any pain now.

“No… please… Please don't leave me,” he choked.

You had never loved him as much as you did in this very moment as he held onto you, pressing deeply onto your wound, hoping that it would do something, anything. Because if it hurt, it meant that you were still reactive. But even he knew. There was no chance. 

You wanted to dry the tears that spilled down his cheeks, but you couldn't move your hand. It was like your body was no longer your own. The body that you once operated was no longer in your control. 

Instead of words, your mouth involuntarily vomited more blood. Your trembling hand cupped Yuta’s soft, youthful cheeks—the same youth you wanted to keep alive, all so that you could see him smile.

You were just a mere friend to him. Someone who was acquainted to care for him in a world that was so unforgiving. So why—why was he looking at you with such sad eyes? Eyes filled with terror that you’d leave at any moment.

And perhaps you would.

There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but you couldn't move your lips, nor could you find the strength to.

“Save your energy, please!!” he pleaded with you, begging for you to just wait. Just a bit longer...

“I’ll—” 

Abruptly, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

‘I want to live, and… I want you to live, too…’

You whispered your last wish inside your heart, knowingly, that he would never be able to hear it. But maybe, just maybe, understood it.

Tears trickled down from one face to the other, dribbling onto the increasingly pale and bloody face of the only person who ever took care of him. 

Yuta cried. Just like he would always do. Whenever he cried, he would ball his eyes out, but the one who always calmed the storm was you. His eyes caught sight of tears falling down your face. It was the first time he had ever seen you cry. It was so foreign. It was beautiful, and it was dying.

You were his miracle. But that miracle of his was dying, and there was nothing he could do.

With everything that your throat could muster, you whispered one last time, “Everything is going to be okay…”

And then those pupils were closed forever.

And just as slowly, light reflections from Yuta’s irises disappeared. Yuta stood back up, still. He eyed the cursed spirit. That thing.

The pain that thing did to you, he would avenge that, tenfold. 

“...Rika,” he muttered. “Kill it.”

Rage engulfed him. Alive or not, he wanted to make it suffer, along with everything else in his vicinity. Why should they deserve mercy when you didn't receive any?

That one mistake from him cost him everything. It was all his fault. 

Again. Again. Again.

“.....”

“Okkotsu!”

“.....”

‘Die, die. Die die die die die—’

“Oi! Okkotsu Yuta! Snap out of it!” 

Only when he felt the grip of Maki grabbing onto his collar and lifting him in the air with an expression of fury did he finally snap out of it.

And he regretted it.

“...What—” he scampered, finally turning his head to face what happened. What he did. “What is this?”

Maki clicked her tongue. “What do you think?”

He knew what he did… Whether he wanted to or not, he did exactly the thing you despised… using his power for harm—not good.

Shit…

Regret flooded him. You would hate him. You wouldn’t want this. This wasn’t what you stood for. But, at that moment, all he could think about was the pain he caused you.

He wasn’t a good person. Hell, he shouldn’t even be considered a person if he couldn’t even save the one person who brought such joy in his life—even if that was just a couple of months. Yuta, in his mind of delusion, had unintentionally called out her name and, with it, killed the cursed spirit in that instant.

But that didn’t bring you back. Nothing could ever bring you back.

Within moments, he ran up to your body, collapsing to his feet and gathering you in his arms. Your head rested on his chest, and he kept on shaking you back and forth. 

“[Y/n]... [Y/n], please.”

But that didn’t work. Everything felt cold. Nothing—not even his words would ever work.

His hand pressed on the gash with all his might—anything that his shaky, now bloody hands could do. Yuta peered back and forth, from the wound back to your pale face, hoping that, somehow, his efforts would arouse a reaction from you. If it hurt, it meant you were still conscious. It told him you were still alive.

But Maki, who had just seen the aftermath, clenched her fists as everything unfolded before her very eyes. She already knew, and perhaps, even Yuta himself already knew, but refused to admit it. It was too late to save you.

“You promised…”

That promise was desolate. 

“You promised that you would be by my side…”

The only fulfilled promise would be to follow the coffin with you in it.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fanfiction #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen angst #gn reader #angst #scenarios #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta angst #death #headcanons #jjk angst #jjk x you #y/n #x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuta death #yuta okkotsu angst #yuta angst

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Bumping Beach Bikini - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 0.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Pregnancy; References to Sex/Suggestive Jokes; Flirting; Use of Second Person POV “You,” No Physical Description of Reader (Minus Pregnancy), No Y/N

Summary: Rooster admires the view of his pregnant wife on the beach.

Master List

Bradley had a mental list of the best outfits that he had ever seen you in. There wasn’t a set ranking, just general levels of appreciation.

There was a step above your normal beauty and allure, which mostly included random casual outfits that for whatever reason just got him going. Like the yellow sundress that you wore when it was exceptionally hot out that was super easy to slide his hands under. Or those jean shorts that he loved to slip his hand into the back pocket and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. Or anything of his that you chose to wear.

And the step above those were your slightly dressier outfits that got him even more excited. The backless black dress that you wore out in Vegas when the two of you went out with the Dagger Squad. Or the blue floor length dress that you wore to Maverick and Penny’s wedding that looked like it was literally sculpted for you and your figure. Though he did rip the zipper on that one.

Then there were the more special outfits. Your wedding dress mostly, since he literally burst out into tears the second that he saw you step out in it. The photo of you that he kept in his cockpit was from your wedding day with your veil spread out around you, giving you a completely angelic appearance. And, well, Rooster was also very fond of the matching white lingerie set that you wore underneath it that night too. He did rip that one too though.

And at the very top of the pyramid of his favorite outfits was, of course, your birthday suit. Nothing would ever top that one.

But seeing you in a maternity bikini with one of his Hawaiian shirts wrapped around your shoulders and your baby bump sticking out from between the folds of his shirt—now that was a sight that he ingrained into his mind for the rest of his life. That one really challenged your birthday suit in his mind.

“What?” you laughed, shooting your husband a look as you applied more sunscreen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re glowing,” Bradley praised, still taking in your beauty.

“With sweat,” you giggled, rubbing in another layer of sunscreen. “It’s only spring and I swear I’m melting already.” You set down the tube of sunscreen and shot your husband a playful look. “You just had to make sure that I was heavily pregnant during the hottest months of the year in Southern California, didn’t you, Bradshaw?”

“Maybe you should have done the math before you begged me to get you pregnant,” Bradley replied, a bit smugly.

“I don’t beg,” you scoffed, shooting him a look. “And besides you offered about fifty times before I let you. If anyone was begging, it was you, Bradley.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rooster mused, smiling over at you.

There was one rule to surviving with a heavily pregnant wife—it was to let you win. On just about everything. Anything health or safety wise, he would argue back, but Rooster took a rain check on all of the little things. And frankly he got more satisfaction out of seeing you happy than being right.

“Do you have enough water?” Rooster asked, sitting up some more.

You reached over and lifted your giant water bottle into the air. Taking a long sip from it just to prove your point to your husband, you set your water bottle back down on the sand.

“I’m fine. Just need some time to relax,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Before it all really sets in.”

Reaching down to pick up your ankle, Rooster started to massage your foot, earning a sigh of relief from your lips. Practically melting into your chair, you turned to your husband with a small, thankful smile as you curled your toes a bit.

“I could get used to this.”

“I’m sure you could,” Rooster chuckled, rubbing the back of your calf.

“There’s only one thing that would make this better.”

“What?”

“Take your shirt off.”

“Mrs. Bradshaw,” Rooster jokingly admonished, causing you to smile wider. “Be careful suggesting that. I knocked up the last woman who asked me to take my shirt off in that tone.”

“I’ll take the risk,” you replied with a smile, rubbing your bump slowly.

“So long as you understand the risk,” Rooster returned with a wink.

“Jesus Christ, the rest of us are trying to eat here,” Phoenix cut in, sounding annoyed.

You and Rooster turned to the other Daggers, Maverick, and Penny, who was hiding an amused smile behind her hand. Maverick turned to Penny with a similar expression, shaking his head. But most of the other Daggers, those who were single anyways, shot both you and Rooster somewhat disgusted looks.

“Sorry,” you called sheepishly, waving to them.

“I’m not,” Rooster replied, reaching up to take his shirt off.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm fanfiction #tgm #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x wife!reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun rooster #rooster x you #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #rooster fluff #rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader

[theemporium]

[1.7k] they want to believe jack when he says he has a girlfriend. they really do. it's just kind of hard to do so when they never see her. or, in which everyone is worried jack has found himself in a parasocial relationship.

.

“Fuck.” 

Jack raised his head, finding his attention drawn to his captain sitting on the aisle across from him on the bus. He watched as the man began patting himself down before he let out a sigh, standing up to reach for his bag on the overhead shelf. Yet, whatever he was trying to find was a fruitless endeavour as he settled back in his seat with a frown on his face.

“You good?” 

“Hm,” Nico hummed, letting out another long breath as he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, I just forgot my headphones.”

“Nico Hischier not being organised?” Jack teased, a smile growing on his face. “Someone alert the authorities.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Just messin’ with you, cap,” Jack mused, deciding to be the better person and not point out the fact he could see Nico’s dimple even if the boy tried to act like he wasn’t laughing. “Here, I’ll share my music with you. Because I’m nice like that.”

The older boy raised his brows. “Your music for the full five hour drive?”

Jack raised his brows in return. “Do you have anything else better to do?”

“Fair enough,” Nico murmured before he reached over, taking the airpod and slipping it into his ear. “But I get to add some songs too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved him off before handing over his phone. “Maybe try more English rap songs so I can understand them too, yeah?” 

“Sure, because I’m nice like that,” Nico said with a grin before he turned to shift his attention to Jack’s phone. He clicked on the queue, his brows furrowing slightly when he saw the songs lined up. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Nico murmured. “I just thought you were a country music kind of guy. Never thought you’d be into the rock scene.”

Jack’s cheeks burned as he let out a slightly strained laugh. “I was, uh, broadening my horizons.”

Nico turned to look at him. “So you chose one band? You know, I know a couple of bands if you want them—”

“I’m fine with that band,” Jack said, flashing his captain a smile. 

“You’ve liked every one of their songs.”

“Mhm.”

“So, you know you like the genre, at least. Maybe you should try—”

“I’m good.”

“Jack—”

“Start queuing songs before I take my phone back, Hisch.”

Nico stared at him for a few moments, noting the way he fidgeted in his seat with his cheeks flushed far brighter than they should be with the bus AC blasting. But, Nico decided he would be nice this time around and not bring it up.

Not yet, at least.

Plus the band Jack had chosen was pretty good, if he did say so himself.

...

liked by jackhughes and 837,278 others

yourusername ready to rock north america❤️🖤

view all 13,738 comments

user i am going to the nashville show!!!

user she is THE moment

user omg i can't believe the tour has already started

user BKEWBFJBWEKFBKWEJBF

jackhughes congrats on the tour!! ur gonna kill it!!❤️‍🔥

user JACK HUGHES????

user who the fuck is jack hughes?

...

“What are you giggling at?”

“I’m not giggling at anything.” 

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You literally giggled as you said that.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately for Luke, this had been a recurring conversation over the last few weeks because, despite what he said, Jack spent the better part of his free time giggling at his phone. It was sickening and annoying and Luke was so done with trying to scroll through TikTok with his brother snickering like some teenage girl in the background. 

It was starting to grate on his last nerve.

“You’re so full of shit,” Luke grumbled as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, narrowing his eyes on his big brother from over the kitchen counter. 

“Maybe you should find someone to text and stop bothering me,” Jack retorted, the words slipping past his lips so casually, almost like he hadn’t realised what he said. 

But Luke heard loud and clear.

He straightened up in his seat, his annoyance now replaced with curiosity and he flashed his brother an inquisitive look. “Who are you messaging that has you giggling?” 

“I am not giggling,” Jack huffed out before he lifted his head, finally looking away from his phone screen to catch his brother’s gaze. “And, for your information, I am texting my girlfriend.” 

A few moments of silence passed as both boys stared at each other.

Luke blinked. “When the fuck did you get a girlfriend?” 

“It’s new,” Jack said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. 

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “How new?” 

“Just a couple of months or so,” Jack murmured, at least having the guts to look a little sheepish as a light blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Months?!” Luke repeated with a scoff, the bowl of cereal he was snacking on now long forgotten. “How come this is the first time I’m hearing of it?” 

“We are keeping things private!” Jack defended. 

“I’m your brother!” Luke retorted. “You’re meant to tell me shit. I’d tell you if I had a girlfriend! Quinn would tell me if he had a girlfriend!” 

“But neither of you do,” he snapped back with a shit-eating grin. 

“And you supposedly do,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “What’s her name?” 

“That’s not important.”

Luke blinked. “Uh, yeah, dude, I think it is.” 

Jack shrugged again. “Maybe I don’t want you to know.” 

“Why not?” Luke questioned, watching his brother just shrug again—not that he was getting fucking sick of that or anything—before he glared. “Is it someone I know?” 

“Maybe.” 

“You’re being ridiculously vague right now and it’s annoying as fuck,” Luke told him. 

Jack’s grin widened. “I know!” 

“Fine, keep your stupid secrets,” Luke grumbled as he reached for his spoon again, rolling his eyes when he heard Jack laughing. “Like I fucking care anyways.” 

But he did. 

He really fucking did and he would find out who this secret girlfriend was if it’s the last thing he did. 

...

liked by jackhughes and 213,839 others

yourusername las vegas, you ALWAYS make me feel at home❤️🖤

view 12,930 comments

user MOTHER!!!

user hot AND talented. your fav could never

user new music when!!!

user THE SHIRT-

jackhughes ur so pretty😍😍😍

user not this guy again

user not a man

notzegrasipromise JACK???

...

...

“Yeah, I mean, I love my parents but I wish my girlfriend could’ve made it out. It would have been nice to have her here for the family skate too.” 

That was all it took for the hustling and bustling of the locker room to come to a screeching halt. 

Jack frowned, his hands holding his jersey in his hand that he had just taken off as he glanced around the room. All of the boys were giving him different looks: some concerned, some amused, some confused. It was throwing him off. 

“Uh, what?” 

“You have a girlfriend?” It was Dawson who eventually asked, his brows furrowed together in questioning.

“Yeah,” Jack nodded, feeling an odd sense of deja vu from the conversation he had with Luke a few weeks ago. “Geez, I didn’t realise we had to announce stuff like this now.”

“I mean,” Jesper spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re close, yeah? We usually just tell each other these things. You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Don’t bother asking for her name,” Luke grumbled from the other side of the locker room.

“She’s not coming to the family skate?” Nico questioned, focusing the attention back to Jack who simply shrugged.

“She travels a bunch for work,” Jack explained. “Or, at least, for right now. She’s out in Nashville right now so she couldn’t make it.”

“But I thought you were all over that rockstar girl,” Simon spoke up from his stall, leaning back against the cubby, half dressed and legs spread. “Every time I open Twitter, I see it.”

Jack’s cheeks burned. 

Jesper gave him a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been commenting on another girl’s instagram when you have a girlfriend. What does she think about it?”

“She likes them!” Jack defended. 

Jesper frowned. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of desperate on instagram,” Simon continued with a snort.

“Well, she hasn’t told me to stop,” Jack huffed.

“Yes, because a rockstar with a couple of million followers would personally reach out to stop you,” Luke drawled, a heavy layer of sarcasm dripping from his words.

“She would, considering she is my girlfriend.”

Once again, the locker room fell silent.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” Luke eventually spoke up, shaking his head. “You really think we believe that you pulled her?” 

Jack frowned. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”

“She’s an international rockstar and you’re just a dude who plays hockey,” Luke retorted. 

“So are you!” 

“Yeah, and I’m not sitting here trying to tell people I’m dating Taylor Swift, am I?”

“This is different,” Jack huffed before looking around the room. “I’m dating her! I really am! We met at that rock bar in Jersey City a couple of months ago and we’ve been chatting ever since.”

The boys all gave each other various looks.

“Fine, don’t believe,” Jack grumbled as he leaned down to start untying his skates. “I know I’m telling the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me.”

For the record, only Jim and Ellen Hughes showed up to the New Jersey Devils’ family skate. 

...

liked by jackhughes and 362,373 others

yourusername east coast, we are coming for you!!❤️🖤

view all 14,737 comments

user i cannot believe the tour is almost over

user NEW MUSIC WHEN

user i'm seeing you in eight days!!!!

user oh my god she is so hot

jackhughes coming back to the better coast❤️🖤

user omg he is copying the hearts too

user he is delusional

user it is the devils colours

user you sound just as delusional as him

...

“So, I’ve been talking to Luke.” 

“Oh great,” Jack grumbled as he sunk further into the pillows of the living room couch.

“And I went on Twitter.”

“You must have been pretty bored to redownload it,” Jack commented, suddenly finding interest in the strings of his hoodie, instead of his brother’s face on the phone screen. He should have known it was odd when Quinn messaged to check he was home alone before he called.

“Jack.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack whined as he tried to hide himself deeper into his hoodie. “Whatever Luke told you is bullshit.”

“So you’re not telling people you’re dating an international rock sensation?” 

“Well, I’m not telling everyone,” Jack corrected. “But I am dating her!”

“Uh huh.”

“Not you too,” Jack groaned, throwing his head back and finding his gaze locked on some random part of the ceiling. “Quinn, why would I lie about this?” 

“Because you took a rough hit to the head.”

His head quickly snapped down to glare at his older brother who had the audacity to smirk in response. 

“We’re just worried, Jack. You don’t mention a single thing about talking to her. Then you’re showing up in her comments. And then you’re claiming to date her. All whilst playing and training like normal.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine if you have a little crush or something but—”

“She isn’t just a crush, she’s my girlfriend,” Jack repeated for the umpteenth time. “You’ll see soon.”

Quinn didn’t look awfully convinced  but he knew better than to push Jack on the matter any further. He instead shifted the conversation to a power play from the game before and, thankfully, Jack took the bait. In fact, he was far too busy rambling to even notice Quinn typing out a message straight to Luke. 

quinnifer: ur right 

quinnifer: he’s a fucking lost cause

...

liked by jackhughes and 983,373 others

yourusername tour was a dream but happy to finally come home to you jackhughes ❤️🖤

view all 37,373 comments

jackhughes glad to have my girl home❤️🖤

user WHAT

user a hard launch post tour??? oh she is sick

user i can't believe we lost her to a man

user IS THIS NOT THE HOCKEY DUDE

user omg he actually stood a chance

trevorzegras WHAT THE FUCK

trevorzegras WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

user omg one sings rock and the other plays at the rock

user IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS

lhughes_06 holy shit

_quinnhughes didn't see that one coming

trevorzegras HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY

user i think hockey dude broke his hockey friend

jackhughes he will be fine

trevorzegras NO HE WILL NOT BE FINE

trevorzegras ANSWER YOUR PHONE ROWDY

jackhughes leave me alone, i'm trying to spend time with my girlfriend

yourusername it's true :) very little clothes included

trevorzegras i'm going to go throw myself off a cliff

user what the fuck did i just wake up to

.

#jack hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[apomaro-mellow]

Hospitals still weren't Eddie most favorite place to be, even though they had technically saved his life once. He didn't give doctors the credit though. No, he reserved that praise for his husband who had literally carried him through hell, holding his guts together.

But alas, he was still only human. And thus prone to human ailments. Which was why he was currently in a hospital bed, preparing for a tonsillectomy.

"Steve, my love, my muse", Eddie took his hand and kissed it. "Should I not return from this-"

"Oh shut up. It's a routine operation." Steve could tell he was being dramatic to cover up the fact that he was actually scared. "You'll be fine. In fact, I'm going down to the cafeteria right now. You're not getting just any ice cream. I'm gonna bring you back a whole sundae."

Steve looked to the rest of the band, who had come for moral support. "Watch him please. And don't let him fall to hysterics." He left out, really hoping he wouldn't come back to an Eddie in tears.

"Sooo", Grant started. "If you don't make it, who gets your house?"

Eddie's brow furrowed. "Uh, my husband, duh?"

"Okay, who gets your husband?", Gareth asked.

Eddie saw the cavalry arrive in the form of Steve's true soulmate. "Robiiiiin", he whined. "You have to protect Steve from these vultures", he hissed the last word.

"We're just trying to hash out who has dibs on Eddie's hot husband", Jeff said.

Robin pointed to herself. "I made it clear to Eddie when he proposed that should the marriage end, either naturally or by divorce, custody of Steve would revert back to me."

"Not exactly the answer I was looking for Bucks, but as long as you keep Steve out of another man's clutches, I won't haunt you from the grave."

"Actually, I plan on setting him up with the first wealthy guy he meets", Robin said. "Thanks to your fame, I've become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. And also, Steve doesn't know how to be single."

The other CC boys nodded sagely.

"All the more reason one of us should get him. We can take care of him", Grant said.

"I can't believe this. This is a goddamn coup!", Eddie shouted.

Steve returned, none the wiser to their conversation. "You won't believe this. The cafeteria has chocolate syrup AND nuts? Isn't that wild? You're gonna have the best sundae of your life, babe."

He took his seat right next to Eddie's bedside and kissed his forehead.

"Angel, we're surrounded by snakes and thieves", Eddie said deliriously.

"What are you talking about?", Steve asked.

Having only Eddie in his line of sight, he couldn't see the others behind him. So he didn't see Jeff making kissy faces, Gareth making a circle with his hand and sticking a finger through it repeatedly, or Grant making a V with his fingers and flapping his tongue between them.

"Those traitorous lechers covet what is mine. And not even Robin seeks to protect your virtue!", Eddie said, desperately reaching out for Steve.

Steve kept his voice even and calm, trying to soothe his husband from whatever delusion he was having when the doctor came in. This guy looked like he played a doctor on tv. Chiseled jaw with perfectly manicured facial hair.

"Good evening", he greeted.

"Hi", Steve said, voice a little breathy.

"Oh he's perfect", Robin said, reading her friend perfectly.

"I'm Dr. Morip, I'll be performing your operation today."

"Morip?", Eddie tilted his head.

"Yes, as in 'more ripped than you'." Then he flexed and busted out of his scrubs and swept Steve off his feet, ignoring the cries of the invalid on the bed.

Eddie was tossing and turning even as Steve shook his shoulders to wake him up.

"You were having a nightmare", Steve spoke softly in the dim lamp light of the hospital room. "Was it 86 again?"

"Steve!", Eddie clung to him as best as he could. "You didn't leave me for Dr. Morip!"

"Dr. Morip? Eddie, her name is Dr. Hudson. And she's married and in her sixties."

Everything caught up with Eddie as his brain became more lucid. He'd already had the operation. That had all been a dream. The tension released instantly as he realized he wasn't about to die on the table and Steve would be scooped up by opportunistic friends.

"You're mine, you know that?"

"Really? Is that why I'm hand-feeding you ice cream?", Steve teased, holding up a spoonful to Eddie's lips.

"I love you", Eddie said, voice muffled from the food and a little watery too.

"I know, you dope. Love you too."

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #everybody loves steve

[verbenaa]

so that i may dream tonight

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:

It was a special torture to be unable to touch him, you decide. You want nothing more than to brush your fingers through his curls as you come, to caress the delicate point at the top of his ears, feel the smoothness of his skin on your fingertips.

It feels absolutely filthy, to be tied up like this, your pleasure left to Astarion’s will as you are powerless to simply lay in wait for whatever he has in store.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Astarion/Reader

𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut, fluff, slice of life!

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 9.1k

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: body worship, massage, blow jobs, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, light bdsm, vampire bites, discussion of safe words, vaginal sex, vampire sex, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, soft dom astarion, TAILOR ASTARION

𝑎/𝑛: I'm back with round 2 baby and somehow its 2k words longer lol. ANYWAYS, this is incredibly indulgent and warm and sexy and INTIMATE. I'm literally screaming. I truly don't know how this ended up so long but oH WELL. anyway, I hope you enjoy reading! below is the a03 link too if you'd prefer to read over there!

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

ao3 here

masterlist

The water is warm against your skin as you lean back against the edge of the wooden tub, hair arranged in a loose pile barely contained with haphazardly placed gold pins as you recline, your eyes wandering up to greet the carved beams of the ceiling that sit resolutely above you. 

It had been a decidedly long day, working deep within the walls of the city beside Wyll, who it had been altogether wonderful to see again after such an extended period. You still weren’t entirely sure why the two of you had been summoned together to help manage Guild politics of all things, but you suppose that this was simply the nature of your semi-recent and highly publicized acts of heroism.

The tension had built up in your body throughout it all, leaving you more ready for the respite of your home than usual. It had been quite some time since you had spent so many hours in the daylight, the warmth of the sun on your skin never unwelcome, but a rarity you were no longer so familiar with. The deep, velvety blue that marked the night sky had long since become associated with your waking hours, the twinkling stars a welcome companion from their place high above your head.

Your mind wanders aimlessly through a myriad of thoughts, barely focusing on one before jumping quickly to the next faster than you can keep up with. With a deep sigh, you attempt to center yourself, though anything that even closely resembled the act of meditation wasn’t your strong suit. You manage to keep it up for a minute before giving up with a roll of your eyes as you instead move to stare blandly at a botanical tapestry hanging on the wall across from you, the calming greens of woven plants blending into one another.

You lose yourself to your musings once again, going over your day and what was to come, trying to make sense of it all, mind drifting from thought to thought as you luxuriate in the lavender scented water Astarion had so kindly readied for you.

Time passes, though you aren’t quite sure how long, the water losing its steam and the soothing heat finally subsiding, drawing you away from your imaginings and you reluctantly find yourself back in the present with a long-suffering sigh. Your head raises from its resting place on the side of the tub, the stretch of your spine drawing an appreciate groan from you as you sit upright.

“All that work for a hot bath and you’re already done?” You turn to glance over your shoulder at Astarion from where he rests indolently on the bed, clad only in a pair of loose silk pants and book held aloft in an elegant hand, looking for all the world a king presiding over an invisible court as the sheer canopy that surrounds the bed blows lightly in a breeze from the open window.

“Apologies to any sore muscles hurt in the act of carrying buckets of water.” You flash him a wink as you roll your head from side to side, stiff muscles protesting the motions.

“Shall I try a more…aggressive approach towards reheating, love?” He holds a hand up, ready to set spark with the inherent elven magic that runs through his veins, a incredibly familiar devious smile on his lips. It was terribly easy to forget he had such skills sometimes, when those hands seemed so much more well-suited for tasks of a more cunning nature.

“I’d rather you not accidentally turn our only tub to cinders, if you don’t mind.” Your raise a brow and fix a look back at him, daring him to try such an act.

“Suit yourself, darling.” He sends a smirk your direction as you turn back to face forward in the bath, his eyes never straying from your form as he watches stray droplets of water make trails down the exposed skin of your neck.

In a last ditch effort to prolong your bath, you push your body under the water until only your head remains above, intent to grasp at the last vestiges of warmth the water will offer before you move to stand.

The water sluices off your form as you emerge, dripping over the fullness of your breasts and rushing down your belly in smooth rivulets that fall back into the swirling bath below. Steam rolls off your limbs as your body meets the coolness of the air, skin still tender from the heat as you make to step out of the tub and onto a small stool, grabbing at a folded towel left nearby. Limb by limb, you make to gently pat at the wetness clinging to you, the tiny beads of water like little crystals decorating your skin, before settling the towel to rest over the top of the partition screen. 

You make your way over herringbone floors on raised toes, trying to avoid any stray drops from falling onto the wood beneath your feet. Only a moment passes before you finally feel the soft weave of a rug against your feet as you find yourself at your destination.

The shared dressing table sits in front of the bed, wood worn with years of use as a collection of multicolored jars and vials of oils rest on a painted tray strategically placed to hide the worst of the wear. A silver hairbrush rests beside the tray, carefully maintained with no sign of tarnish on the intricate design of the handle, clearly well loved through the years.

The air is refreshing against the your warmed skin as you reach for a small glass vial at random, the viscous amber of the oil inside swishing from side to side as you bring it to your hand. You uncork it with familiar motions and pour the scented oil into the palm of your hand, careful not to spill any onto the patterned rug beneath your feet.

With small, sweeping motions you rub the oil into your skin, mindful to try to reach every inch you can, the scent of bergamot and jasmine (one of Astarion’s curations, surely) filling the room with an easy and familiar warmth. You pay no mind to anything other than your self-care, allowing your focus to settle wholly on the act and nothing more.

Astarion is near silent as he rises from the bed behind you, moving with ethereal grace towards your naked form. You don’t take notice of his presence until he is upon you, the feeling of his cool, muscular arms wrapping around your waist from behind causing a noise of surprise to tumble from your lips. 

The feeling of his cool skin against the warmth of your own makes you jump, nipples hardening and gooseflesh rising on your arms as his hands brush against your belly in affection. His angular jaw comes to rest on your shoulder, nose skimming the elegant column of your neck as he presses in close.

“Need any help, darling?” The words brush against the shell of your ear, his lips touching your skin with every word uttered as the hands wrapped around your waist tighten to bring you even closer to his own form.

“Well, if you’re offering, how could I say no?” You relax into the embrace of your lover, his hands sweeping up and down the flesh of your stomach before finding their way to your tense shoulders.

His hands are a balm on your skin as he rubs the remaining oil into your skin in soothing circles, fingers lightly massaging at your sore muscles. Your head falls back to rest on his shoulder as your eyes close at the sensation of his hands on you, reveling in his attentions with a contented hum.

“Why such a bad day, dearest?” Astarion’s question is genuine as he glances up from your skin to glimpse your expression as he waits for your reply. 

“Hm, not quite so bad as long. I think I’m out of practice at this whole hero thing.” Your words are a sigh as his hands work at the muscles of your shoulders, thumbs digging in to release the tension sitting heavily there. 

“I don’t blame you. A day with Wyll’s tireless chivalry would push me to my limits as well.” You snort in response at his supposed honestly, though frankly you are inclined to think he might actually like Wyll for his eternal kindness, but you know he’d never admit such a thing out loud.

Astarion gathers more oil in the center of his palms before his hands continue, moving from your shoulders to your arms and onward, to the curve of your lower back and around the circle of your hips; careful to never press hard enough to cause pain but with enough pressure to relieve your tired body. His thumbs press into the muscles with precision, you body becoming more lax with every pass of his hands.

Astarion lowers to his knees behind you when he is satisfied with his progress, hands skating over your rear as they make their way down your legs, nothing less than reverence in the motions as he smooths his hands down and then back up the skin of your thighs and calves, intent to touch every inch of skin available to him. 

The movement of his hands on your legs, brushing high on your thighs brings a subtle heat alighting inside you, barely a flicker, but just enough for the feeling of arousal to start deep inside much to your slight embarrassment for hoping such innocent touches would turn into more.

There’s a sudden shift in his touches, you realize, Astarion’s motions transitioning from methodical to subtle teasing with every pass, daring to go a little higher on every turn up your thighs before darting back down again to more neutral territory. You shift slightly at the feeling, wishing for more but refusing to acknowledge the urge to push your thighs together to ease the slow growing ache.

Astarion must take notice, you think, so close to the warm center of your body, must be able to smell the soft embers marking the start of your arousal. His hands finally stop their ministrations, moving instead to grasp around the bones of your hips as he presses a single kiss to the base of your spine, before pressing another right above it. Slowly he begins to rise, kiss by kiss, as he follows the line of your spine from your hips upwards; lips moving to touch the back of your waist, the space between your shoulder blades, the base of your neck. 

His lips are as cold as winter air yet they feel like a brand with every press against the column of your spine, stoking the fire deep inside your core with startling ease. 

He raises back up to his full height, his hands draped around your waist once more as he leans in to press a kiss against your cheek, drawing hypnotic patterns against your lower belly knowingly. You lean back into his kiss, head tilting, and rest your body back against his own. As you put your weight into his safe embrace, you feel a familiar hardness pressing lightly against the bare skin of your ass, covered by the same luxurious silk as the pants he wears low on his hips.

Your lips curl, victorious at your discovery and you bring your hands to cover his own where they rest on your stomach before drawing one up along the sinew of his arm to instead press against to the solid expanse of his abs. 

Daringly, you move the hand lower, fingers dancing over the dip of his hips to brush against the subtle erection pressing against his silken pants. Astarion’s body bucks into your own at your touch, the hands around your waist suddenly gripping harder as you continue your exploration.

“If those hands of yours keep wandering, you’ll leave me no choice but to tie them up, darling.” His words are teasing, a gleam of affection in his claret eyes as his head moves low to nip playfully at your throat.

You quirk your brow at such a delicious idea, and with a purposeful motion your hand presses harder against him, finger tracing the curve of his cock with mock innocence. 

“If that’s supposed to be a threat, it’s a very poor one.” You lean your head to the side, giving more room for his lips to move against.

Astarion lets out a disappointed sigh, one hand sliding up from your stomach to palm at your breast, squeezing lightly as he runs a thumb over the nipple in response to your shameless disobedience. His other hand travels lower, fingers brushing past your stomach to reach between your legs and glide through the wetness he finds there as he lets out an audible tsk, the beginnings of your arousal decorating his fingers as a low moan escapes your lips.

“You just never learn, do you?” You gasp at glide of the oil on his fingers against your skin as Astarion weighs your breast in his palm with one hand, the other pressing lightly against your clit, your back arching at the sensation. Your pleasure lasts but a moment, Astarion’s hands moving back to hold at your waist once more, and you whimper at the loss.

He walks the few short steps backwards towards the bed, pulling you in tow until his knees meet the soft edge of the mattress and he lets himself fall backward, taking you with him.

Your bodies land to rest upon the blankets with a soft bounce, Astarion’s arms still around you as a small laugh bubbles up from your throat. It only takes a second for you to quickly turn in his arms, pressing your naked breasts against his bare chest as your eyes meet his own in mirth.

His hands never leave your waist, fingers dancing up the curve of your spine as your legs find their place on either side of his hips. You let your body melt into his own, quick to begin to press kisses into the expanse of his chest below you. Your lips make their way towards his neck as you push yourself up to straddle him, his hands falling to rest on your thighs where they bracket his hips.

The growing wet of your core presses against his lower stomach and the feeling of your arousal on his skin does not escape his notice. With a feline smile, the hands on your thighs make their way back to your waist and with the lightest of pressure, Astarion encourages you to move your hips. 

Your breath catches at the feeling as you move to work with him, his hands guiding you back and forth to grind yourself against his chiseled stomach as the hands on his chest steady your movements. Astarion’s eyes meet your own as he helps you along, each slow brush of your clit against his skin has your pleasure building, your lips falling open as your desire multiplies. 

Astarion moves a hand up your body as your hips find their cadence against him, only stopping when he reaches the curve of your breast, brushing a finger lightly along the full bottom of it as your hips undulate against him.

“You’re so very beautiful like this.” His eyes are molten with mounting desire as he watches you move back and forth on his body, your nipples pebbling under his touch and your wetness growing with every pass along him.  

“I could say the same to you,” You hips move with seductive grace, gliding across him. “It’s quite a treat to have such a beautiful man like yourself beneath me.”

Astarion brings his wandering hand back to your empty hip before drawing it farther down to press against the place where your slick glistens against his pale skin. He draws a finger through the dew he finds on his abdomen, gathering it on a fingertip before pressing it into his mouth to lick at your arousal. 

“Delicious, as always.” His eyes are the deepest of garnet, sensuous as they meet your own.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight, empty core clenching with want as an idea forms in your mind, one that promises certain pleasure to you both. Swiftly, you lift yourself off his chest to slide lower, your dripping folds brushing against the silk covering his cock, darkening the fabric before you continue down until your knees touch the ground before the bed. Your sudden change of position has Astarion leaning up onto his elbows, watching you intently as your hands run up and down his covered thighs.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” You meet his eyes, a coquettish smile on your lips as your hands move higher, brushing dangerously close to his hardness. You lean your head in and lick lightly against a slight dampness you see on the silk, eyes never leaving his as Astarion’s hips jump and a sigh breaks from his lips.

“Do you want me to?” Your question is genuine as you move your head away from his erection, giving him space to answer as your eyes gaze at his elegant features, waiting for his blessing.

“Do your worst, darling.” His lips take on their trademark roguish grin in response to the sly one now decorating your own. The sight of you on your knees before him is always a welcome one, and he would be remiss to deny such a gift of pleasure from you.

Astarion moves to sit, intent on not missing a single moment as he helps you free his hardened cock from the silk of his pants in a flurry of movement before they are discarded onto the floor, soon to be forgotten entirely.

“It would be my honor.” The words leave your lips moments before they press against his newly uncovered heat, searing kisses moving against the vein running from the crown to the base of him. You lick greedily at the precome leaking from the tip before laving your tongue along the head of his cock, a hand coming to brush lightly against the base before your fist closes around him.

You feel his hands in your hair, nimble fingers finding the golden pins barely holding your hair up before throwing them to the side with surprising accuracy, until they’ve all but disappeared under furniture never to be found again. Your hair falls in a messy curtain around your face, Astarion quick to brush through the errant locks as your mouth works him. 

Astarion lets you move at your own pace, basking in the feel of your soft lips and clever tongue working around his cock in fluid motions as the moans that fall from his lips spur you on, urging you to take him deeper, to love him harder. Your hand helps your actions, making sure to keep contact where your mouth cannot easily reach, eager to bring him to the brink.

You hollow your cheeks as you suck at his cock, his eyes closing in pleasure as the hands in your hair tighten in time with his moans. You break off his length with a pop, taking in a lungful of air before you lavish his erection with your tongue, the same hand still massaging him at the base. 

There were few things better than this, you can’t help but think as your tongue flicks at the head of his cock again, the feeling of bringing Astarion to the brink of pleasure with your mouth as he loses himself to the feeling nothing less than exhilarating.

You lips wrap around him once more, taking him as deep inside your mouth as you can manage, the tip of cock near the entrance to your throat as you gag slightly, eyes watering in response. Your head moves back and forth as you take him as deep as you can manage, intent on tasting his come, until you feel the hand in your hair moving. 

Fingers caress your cheek, brushing against the tears staining your skin as you hear Astarion speaking, your mouth slowing to a stop.

“Enough, darling,” his words are strained with effort, Astarion barely managing to hold back from coming on your tongue as he speaks them.

You break away from him the minute you hear the words, a string of saliva connecting your lips and his cock remaining as you bring your eyes to look up at him in question. Astarion groans at the sight, breathing heavily.

You feel his hand come to rest around your upper arm, curling around the lithe muscle there as he gently pulls you up to stand in front of his seated form. Astarion’s breathing is heavy as he looks you up and down before pulling you into his lap, your knees resting on either side of his own as his hands touch everywhere they can, your own coming up to cup his cheeks.

“Are you alright?” Your fingers brush against the planes of his face as it rests in your warm hands.

“Oh, I’ve never been better darling,” he leans into a palm, head tilting with the motion. “I’m just not ready to be done with you yet.”

His admission has heat surging in your belly with anticipation, a smile on your lips as you lean in to press them to his own. Astarion responds in kind, the hands on your body pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip in a bid of entry.

You open your mouth to him, his tongue caressing your own as your lips move against each other’s, the kiss passionate as you pour you love and desire into it. Astarion breaks the kiss first, hands squeezing at your hips as he gestures with his chin towards the plush pillows sitting at the head of the bed. 

“Up you go, my sweet.”

You are quick to react, getting out of his lap and moving your body up the bed as his eyes follow you, your oiled skin brushing against the linens as you make to lay your head upon a pillow resting there, the crochet trim tickling at your nape. You arrange yourself with ease, hoping to look as though you were the picture of obeisance as you wait for him to follow.

Astarion gets up from his place at the foot of the bed and pauses, his gaze running over your body as you lay there in wait for him, perfectly poised in the middle of your shared bed. Your skin glows with the leftover hint of oil still remaining, the shine of it reflecting in the moonlight that dances in through the intricately paneled windows, tracery-like shapes reflected onto the floor the same color silver as his hair.

With that thought Astarion moves away, footsteps taking him instead to his bedside table, pulling open the carved wood front to search for something within. You resist the urge to peek, content instead to wait for him to show you whatever it is he searches so intently for. Finally, Astarion seems to find the item of his fancy and he rises to his full height with the treasure in hand.

It’s a length of delicate pink satiny ribbon; clearly brought here from his studio,  perhaps the leftover from some long-finished project. But maybe, maybe, he had been waiting for a very specific opportunity to arise, and the idea that he had envisioned such a thing brings a fresh wave of heat to your center. You can only hope he is willing to make good on his earlier threat and use such a beautiful material.

“Do you trust me?” The thick ribbon dangles in curls from his elegant fingers, the candlelight illuminating the highlights of the satin a luminous hue.

“With my life.” Your response is quick, slipping from your lips with ease as you gaze at the figure he cuts, moonlight coming in the window in silvered beams illuminating the lines of his body.

Your move your arms up to rest around your head where it lays on the pillow, wrists delicately crossed above your hair like a halo as you follow Astarion’s form as he moves toward where you lay waiting.

The bed dips down where he kneels upon it as he swings a leg over you, his body hovering over your hips as he leans forward to grasp at your wrists. Astarion works quickly, clever fingers moving faster than you can follow. You don’t take your eyes off his face, intent to watch the thoughts as they cross his features. Within moments, he has finished as fast as he started, moving off of you to stand instead at the foot of the bed to watch as you test the bindings. There is give in the ribbon, naturally, you know Astarion would never bind you so tightly you couldn’t truly move or escape unless you were to ask for such a thing. The lack of motion, the ability to truly be unable to do much of anything with your hands or arms is a sensation that feels as strange as it does alluring.

Astarion looks down at you, examining his work as his eyes move to take in every inch of you, from the sight of your hands bound together with that demure pink satin tied in a neat, tidy bow and thoroughly secured to one of the carved freesias that decorate the wooden headboard to the way your body lays waiting for him in loving submission. You are a vision for his eyes only, the sheer image of you like this is sure to be burned into his mind for eternity, something he will see in his dreams for a millennia to come.

“Now, what ever am I to do with such a pretty, lovely thing like yourself?” The way Astarion’s eyes travel over your form makes your thighs rub together on instinct, his heated gaze ratcheting up your arousal as you force yourself to let your legs fall open for him to see the evidence of your anticipation.

He moves to kneel on the bed at your feet, eyes glued to the sight of the damp clinging to your center. Gingerly, you reach out a bare foot and rest it against the center of his chest, toes daintily pressing into the bare skin there, eager for any connection with him you can get. 

Astarion eyes move to glance at your offering and he wastes no time, a hand coming to grab at the foot resting on his sternum, fingers quick to trace the delicate arch with a light touch. He leans his head to press a kiss to the top of your foot before moving further up your leg, pressing kisses to your ankle, your calf, the space behind you knee. 

“You look terribly lovely like this, darling, all tied up and at my mercy.”

His kisses continue their exploration, light brushes of his lips touching your thigh, the gentle softness of your stomach, the valley between your breasts before ending their journey against your neck. Astarion’s body rests between your open thighs as his lips caress the skin of your neck, his cock hot against your lower stomach. Your arms shake against their bonds, aching for the ability to touch him where he lays against you.

“Did you come up with your word, darling?” His voice is a whisper against your neck, his tongue licking at the places where his fangs have left scars as you recall words from a prior conversation. An exchange of words, he had said, to let each other know our comfort level. 

You nod your head, wrists flexing slightly against the ribbons as you try to hide a teasing smile, unable to resist such an opportunity to fluster him with your answer despite the headiness you feel. “Blingdenstone Blush.”

Astarion scoffs at your choice, head coming up from your neck to shoot a look your way, noticing your poorly hidden smile with the raise of a brow. 

“Could you pick anything more terrible?”

“Well, initially I was going to go with Bullywug Trumpet but it doesn’t quite roll of the tongue, now does it?” Astarion rolls his eyes at this, mouth curling up with distaste as he mutters something along the lines of unbelievable or is normalcy truly so much to ask for? under his breath.

“I am very open to discussing other word choices though, if you so desire. After all, there are so many mushrooms we could choose from.” Your smile is sly as you raise your eyebrows in amusement.

“Is a discussion on mycological nomenclature really what you want to be talking about while I have you all trussed up and ready to be devoured, darling?” Astarion’s hips grind into your own, driving home his point with little delicacy.

“Fine, you make a fair argument. Please do continue your previous exploits, sir.” A brief look flits over Astarion’s face at your use of such a word, gone as fast as it comes. The slight twitch of his cock against your skin, however, is far more telling.

“Hmm? Sir? Should I be looking to expand my vocabulary or—“ You move against your bonds to roll your hips back against your own in response, though Astarion is quick to cut you off when his mouth lowers to your breast, tongue circling the nipple, silencing any further conversation from you.

“That’s enough out of that clever mouth of yours for now, sweetest.” He rests his head against your breast, nipple damp as his eyes find your own.

“Sunmelon,” The word is a sigh on your lips. “We can go with that.”

“Consider it sorted, my love,” He presses a light peck at the swell he lays his head on before continuing. “Now, forget about your day, darling, and let me make you feel good.” 

Astarion seals his words with a kiss to the space where your heart beats in your chest before moving to capture the nipple resting below, his tongue circling the peak with precision. 

The motion has your back arching, pressing closer into his waiting mouth, and Astarion does not relent as he alternates between flicks of his tongue and closing his lips around to suck. Your hips jump at the sensation, fresh heat rushing to fill the space between your thighs.

Astarion moves his attentions to your neglected breast, as thorough in his ministrations with it as he was its twin as a hand comes up to brush against the damp nipple recently abandoned. He is resolute in his actions, paying no mind to your rolling hips searching for stimulation.

The feeling of his cock resting against the skin of your stomach is maddening when you want its heat so badly to fill you, Astarion’s motions against your breasts driving you higher and higher with every pass of his tongue. His hands trace down the contours of your body reverently as his mouth continues its exploration at your chest, hands moving to wrap around your arched back to grab at the flesh of your rear. 

He aligns his hips with your own as his hand squeeze at your ass, his cock pressing against your folds as he grinds at your center, drawing a ragged moan from both your lips. The dual stimulation of his lips on your breasts and his hardness against your weeping cunt feels euphoric, breathy whimpers escaping with every brush of him.

With a pop, Astarion breaks away from your nipple, his lips making their way north towards to mouth at the column of your throat. He kisses everywhere he can, his lips tracing the red of the blood in your veins as his hips continue their slow roll. 

He licks a stripe up a vein to press his lips against your ear, tickling the lobe with his tongue, the eroticism of the touch bringing a shiver to your naked form. 

“You’re absolutely perfect.” Astarion’s words are reverent, lips pressing soft kisses to the spot behind your ear as you whimper at the sheer adoration in his voice. Your hands writhe against their bonds, aching to touch him, to run fingers across the lines of shoulders and to bury them in his silver curls. 

His hands leave the skin of your rear, fingertips pressing in as he drags them up the expanse of your back before settling them to rest on your hips as his tongue licks down your neck before changing course to press kisses down to your chest. 

Slowly, Astarion makes his way down your body, kissing as he goes, every touch alighting your body with fire. His lips trace the skin below your belly button as his hands move to spread your thighs apart, settling his body between your open legs.

Astarion mimics your earlier action, pillowing his head innocently on the plushness of your thigh as he glances up at you from his place between your spread legs, a finger running up and down the skin there absentmindedly as he takes in the sight of you from this new angle; your dewy folds, the softness and warmth of your body, the light pink of the ribbon wrapped around your wrists practically iridescent in the dim light.

“As pretty as a painting.” Astarion sighs, adoration spilling from his lips, as the finger drawing lines makes its way up to run through your wetness in a barely there caress, collecting the arousal on a fingertip before moving to press lightly against your entrance. His finger brushes light circles, tracing the ring of muscles before dipping inside your heat. The warmth of your body draws a hiss from Astarion as he pushes that finger deeper, meeting no resistance as it sinks in to the knuckle, your moans filling the room.

He watches, entranced, as his finger disappears inside you before he draws it back out, bringing a second finger to join as they plunge back in. Your entrance weeps with the movement of his fingers, the coolness of the skin against the heat of your body only serving to contrast the feeling more. Your legs fall open farther the deeper Astarion’s fingers go, the dive of them in and out driving you closer to your orgasm. 

Your moans are pure sin as they fall from your lips, the sight of Astarion between your legs, as he watches his fingers slowly disappear inside your body with such intent drive you higher towards your completion. 

It was a special torture to be unable to touch him, you decide. You want nothing more than to brush your fingers through his curls as you come, to caress the delicate point at the top of his ears, feel the smoothness of his skin on your fingertips.

It feels absolutely filthy, to be tied up like this, your pleasure left to Astarion’s will as you are powerless to simply lay in wait for whatever he has in store. The feeling is intoxicating, more than any wine could ever hope to be. You certainly never expected that being denied the ability to touch would put your other senses on high alert, the scent of your own arousal evident in the air of the room, the sound of your wetness loud to your ears with every movement of his fingers. 

Astarion’s eyes flash to yours in the same instant his fingers start move faster, beginning to piston in and out of you faster. With every plunge in, Astarion crooks his fingers just so, perfectly placed every time to brush against that sweet spot deep inside. Your cunt clenches around him, intent to draw him in, to keep him there, as your orgasm draws nearer and nearer. 

The precipice of your orgasm is right in front of you, the warmth coursing through your veins in its nearness and you begin to let yourself fall into the feeling of it, Astarion driving you closer and closer towards your high until you feel the sudden emptiness of his fingers leaving you, ripping away the pleasure that was so closely awaiting you and your orgasm disappearing into the ether. Your mouth falls open in a cry, head tilting up from its place on the pillow to look down upon him in utter surprise as he rests between your legs.

“You know, I never did repay you from the other day in the studio. Surely you remember denying me my orgasm, hm?” The words are sly, brimming with confidence as you whine at the loss of his ministrations.

Astarion’s fingers press into your waiting body once more when he is confident your orgasm has disappeared, your sensitive cunt still weeping, curling inside to press against your g-spot. His fingers don’t leave your body this time, instead staying seated firmly inside you where he can manipulate them to curl into the area over and over again. Your pleasure ratchets back up faster than you can follow, your head thrown back against the pillow in ecstasy, eyes closed as your lashes dust against your flushed cheeks. 

Astarion leans his head in towards your waiting core, pressing soft kisses to the area around your clit, careful to never touch it all the while he remains intent on  breaking you apart on his fingers. 

He never stops the motions deep inside, curling with ruthless efficacy to leave you hanging on the precipice as his lips begin to work their way back up your body until they meet your lips. 

Your eyes open as he presses his mouth to yours, blinking through the slow haze of pleasure building as his forehead comes to rest against your own. 

“Word, darling?” Astarion fingers never slow, but his eyes are clear as they gaze into your own.

“I’m alright, I promise.” Your words put him at ease as you raise your head slightly to press a kiss to his cheek, your hips rolling against his hand. Astarion returns the gesture, kissing at the high point of your face before moving down the softness of your cheek to your neck, finally stopping to rest his head against your collarbone. 

“Good, because I’m not done yet.” He punctuates his words by stopping his fingers, keeping them warm deep inside your body but no longer allowing them motion, cutting off the burning pleasure you were once again so close to. You keen at the loss, bucking your hips in an attempt to regain it, willing to fuck yourself on his fingers if that was what it took. Astarion doesn’t give you the chance, pulling his fingers from your body to press them against your clit instead.

Your breath comes in shaky moans, body desperate for the chance to finally come. Astarion doesn’t relent in his quest though as he brings you to the peak once more with his fingers moving against your clit, giving your poor core a break as his lips press against your bare skin anywhere they can. He licks at your nipples, nips at the dip of your waist with his fangs, kisses the juncture where hip meets thigh. Always so good, beyond good, but never enough to bring you careening over the edge as his fingers diligently press at the pearl between your thighs, Astarion careful to halt when he notices you moving too close to your orgasm.

Your breath comes in uneven moans, your mind delirious with pleasure, both given and denied, when at long last Astarion’s lips and hands leave your body, their absence stark.

With elegant movements, Astarion moves back from your body, intent to simply watch you from his place near your feet, his pale skin like carved marble as he settles back to rest on his heels against the soft plush mattress as he watches you, his gaze considering. 

Your skin is flushed, a light sheen of sweat setting your skin aglow along every dip and curve of your body with a beautiful softness only echoed by that rosy pink ribbon still lovingly tied around your wrists. Your body writhes under his observation, the way he takes in every inch of your form in its fucked-out state with the otherworldly crimson of his eyes making your breath catch in your lungs.

His cock bobs between his thighs, tip weeping with precome as his eyes continue their perusal. He brings the hand that had been inside you so many times now up to wrap around his shaft as he pumps himself, spreading the leaking wetness down his length as his fist works himself up and down in slow motions.

Your body shakes with pent-up pleasure, skin flushed with being brought to the brink but denied your release time and time again.

“Now, my dear, I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

Pink tinges your cheeks at having to say the words you know he wants to hear, your body writhing with incompletion as you rub your thighs together while you think of how to possibly voice your desires out loud.

“Use your words, darling.” Astarion urges you with a glance as his hands move to spread your legs once more, pushing them wide as he looks at the glistening mess between your thighs, poised like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. 

“I…I want you to make me come. Please.” You lick your lips and pull slightly against the ribbons around your wrists, breathing deep.

“You’ll have to give me more than that, sweet thing.” His smile is wicked as his thumbs rub circles on the skin of your thighs.

“I want you to lick my cunt. Fuck me with your fingers, a-and your cock. Drink from me.” Your words rush out on an exhale as you grant him the information he so dearly wants, the blood rushing through your body coloring the skin of your cheeks and chest even darker as the admission pours from your lips, hips rolling in a desperate bid for release.

Astarion’s hold on your thighs tightens at your words, more beads of precome decorating his cock as it bobs in response to your request.

“Good things come to those who ask for them.” And with those words, Astarion lowers his head towards your waiting body, licking a stripe from your aching core to your clit. 

His mouth laves at your folds, tongue running through from your entrance to your clit over and over again, never focusing on any particular place for long, your pleasure ticking up with every brush.

Your body is so sensitive like this, the prior denial of your pleasure making every movement of his mouth seem more intense than usual, the sheer touch of his tongue on your most intimate areas making your hips jump. He laps at your clit with broad stokes, tongue flattened against the small bead before moving down to lick around your entrance before dipping inside to taste. 

Astarion continues like this, pressing his tongue deep with practiced motions, whorling against your walls before exiting again to ring around the area, your moans spurring on his attentions.  

He moves up to work your clit with precise flicks of his tongue, never breaking his rhythm as he replaces his tongue with two of his fingers, sliding in with ease. Astarion pumps his fingers, once, twice, before curling them to press against your g-spot once more. You teeter on the edge, Astarion masterful as he conducts your pleasure with mouth and fingers.

Astarion’s tongue darts down from your clit to run against the place where his fingers enter you, the sensation of both his tongue and fingers on your entrance drawing a harsh cry from your lips as he laps eagerly. Your arms jerk against the ribbon as your thighs begin to shake, every lick and push of his fingers making up for any pleasure previously denied. 

“That’s it, darling. Come for me.” His words are adoring as he speaks them against your center before returning to lick, your eyes rolling back at the vibrations of his mouth against you as his words make you clench harder around him.

He separates his fingers inside of you as his tongue continues to lick, scissoring them wide, as he stretches the walls of your cunt as your eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. The burn of the stretch is minute, any discomfort replaced by the addition of his tongue pushing in deep in the space made by his spread fingers. His tongue thrusts in time with his fingers, and you are powerless but to follow your body as you finally crest over the edge, his words ringing in your ears as you come on his fingers and tongue. 

Your orgasm washes over you with a rarely felt intensity, your body spasming with pleasure as Astarion works you through it, not relenting in his mission. White-hot heat rolls over you, body and mind, as you cry out, the pleasure denied to you coming back tenfold as you ride the wave of your orgasm.

Body shaking, you slowly come back to yourself, taking in lungfuls of air as your body finally relaxes, arms falling to rest on the pillow as your eyes open blearily. 

“Dear Gods, Astarion.” You breathe out the words on a laugh as you look down at Astarion between your legs, fingers still massaging inside you softly as his head moves to press kisses to the skin of your thigh.

“We still have a few more requests to cross off your list, darling.” He licks at the flesh of your inner thigh, nose nuzzling the spot as his eyes meet your own.

“By all means, please drink your fill.” Your let the tension leave your legs as you open them wider for Astarion as he searches for a place to feed. 

His fangs pierce the skin of your upper thigh, so close to the sensitive junction where your leg meets your hip. The pain is a familiar hot prick as his fangs enter your flesh, but the satisfaction you feel from the pull of his lips sucking erases any thoughts of pain that cross your mind. He drinks at your lifeblood, intent to get his fill and enjoy sating his hunger. 

He hums against your skin as he drinks, the sound setting you ablaze with need once more as you watch him from his place between your thighs, the red of the blood on the white of skin stark and beautiful. 

Astarion takes one last pull, dragging the last bit of blood into his mouth before he retracts his fangs, moving to lick at the bloody wounds left there on your leg. He swallows the remaining blood as it enters his mouth before propping himself up on his elbows to glance up at you, tongue moving to lick at a stray drop of your blood making its way down from his lip.

He is beyond beautiful, the sight of his tongue licking at the stripe of your blood on his face driving pleasure straight to your empty cunt and you feel tired of waiting for it to be filled once more. You roll your hips slightly at the thought.

“Will you fuck me? Please?” You lick at your lips, asking as kindly as you know how, pulling at the binds on your wrists.

Astarion doesn’t answer you, instead leaning in once to lick at your slit, gathering your leftover cum to blend with your blood on his tongue as you whimper, skin still sensitive. The taste is intoxicating, Astarion moaning into your cunt at the piquancy of your essences.

Astarion’s mouth leaves your center as he moves to sit, grabbing at your legs as you wrap them around his hips, drawing him closer. Taking his cock in hand, he lines himself up with your core before beginning to push in.

He teases at first, short thrusts that never bury anything more than the head of his cock in your entrance, your slick coating him. 

“Gods, you’re soaked.” He throws his head back as he finally relents to his desire, pushing the rest of his hardness inside your waiting body, moving further and further until he bottoms out, dragging moans from both of your lips at the feeling. He sits like this for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness of him before he rocks with slow, deep motions, the head of his cock brushing against your walls feels like bliss as you move your hips in a rhythm to match his own.

A hand on your hip makes its way down the skin of your thigh, Astarion lifting your leg to prop it up over his forearm as he begins to pump in and out of you with smooth thrusts, your thighs opening up to him. 

Your lower back lifts to accommodate the change of balance with your leg now being held, Astarion’s other hand anchoring itself to your other as it wraps around his hip. He moves to his knees, his thrusts speeding up as you are content to let him set the tempo.

Astarion moves fast and hard, his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your moans mix together as they fill the room with their sweetness, the sound of your lovemaking only adding to the pleasure building inside both you as you move towards your mutual releases.  

“Astarion, please, I need to touch you,” the words are a desperate whine as they leave your lips and Astarion is quick to acquiesce to your request, arm letting your leg fall as he leans over your body to pull at the bow adorning your wrists to free them from their binding. Without wasting a second, your hands find their way around his neck and your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, his thrusts never stopping their cadence as you run your freed fingers through the curls at the base of his neck. Your hips move to meet his own in frenzied thrusts, trying to match his pace with every press of his cock deep inside you. 

Without warning he flips you both and you suddenly find yourself sitting on his cock, the new position drawing a surprised moan from you lips as Astarion lays beneath you, curls splayed against the plush quilt. 

“Are you sure, love?” You gasp out the words as his hands find your hips again and he begins dragging you up and down his cock in smooth movements. His cock is deep like this, hitting places inside you with an intensity that drags you both closer. It had been some time since you had the opportunity to ride his cock like this, to watch him laying below your hips as you work him from above.

“Yes, gods please,” Astarion begs, the words only serving to ratchet your pleasure higher at the fever of his words, willing to do practically anything for him when he asks like that. His hips piston up in you, faster now, as you move your own up and down, body easily matching his like this as you settle your hands on his chest to help you balance.

Astarion’s pupils are practically blown out, your own mirroring his as you ride his cock, the slap of skin on skin with each thrust absolutely sinful. His thrusts are fast, quick and hard, his rhythm difficult to follow as he loses himself in the feeling of your body, the sight of you on top of him, breasts bouncing with every thrust and your head thrown back with your hair cascading around you. 

His hands grasp at your hips, fingertips pressing hard enough to bruise as his own orgasm approaches, your own not far behind as you both give yourself over to the feeling and let your bodies dictate their own pleasure. Every thrust has his cock driving cries from your lips, breathy moans falling from his own as you finally feel Astarion lose control beneath you, his cock pulsing as his eyes close, spilling his come deep inside your cunt. 

His frantic thrusts have him pressing against your spot relentlessly, and the sight of him as his orgasm washes over him, the feel of his come filling you sends you over the edge with him, grinding down on his cock as you ride the wave of your own completion, vision practically whiting out as a mixture of come leaks from where you are joined onto his skin. 

Astarion’s body slowly relaxes below yours, grip on your hips softening as he helps you ride him as you come. He watches you as you finish, and while he’s never been the religious sort, Astarion is certain the vision of you working his cock as you orgasm is nothing short of divinity at work. Finally, your hips slow their motions, your body practically collapsing against his own as you work on regaining your breath in between pressing kisses to his chest. 

“Well. That was quite the ride, wasn’t it?” His expression is open, contentment obvious on his features as his fingers draw up and down your sides. His cock softens inside you as you smile against his skin, pushing up slightly to roll off of his chest and settle into the cool skin of his side. Your combined spend leaks onto the linens below you but you pay it no mind as Astarion reaches for your wrists, checking for any possible injury before pressing kisses to the slightly reddened skin where the ribbon had lay.

“It’s certainly my favorite one, at the very least.” You relax into his touch at his chuckle, your head cushioned on a muscled shoulder as you let him pepper your wrists with kisses. The two of you delight in the moment, happily basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, neither making to leave the bed.

You’re the first to break the moment, sitting up beside Astarion as you stretch, pressing your shoulders back to stretch along your spine. You turn to look at him with a smile on your face, crossing your legs in front of you as your head tilts to the side, observing him.

“You know, if this is going to be the response I get every time I happen to have a ‘bad’ day, I will gladly arrange for more of them.” Your smile turns mischievous, reaching out to walk your fingers up his chest.

“Greedy thing, aren’t you?” Astarion gasps in mock shock, reaching to grab at the fingers on his chest, bringing them to his lips to nip at the tip of one.

“What can I say? I did learn from the best, after all.” You shrug, leaning forward as his tongue licks at your fingers, squirming slightly as he reaches out to grab you around the waist. Astarion pulls you back into his arms, rolling the two of you playfully as he kisses your lips, threads of your joined laughter echoing out into the night.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #i'm riding the wave of these delusions and i've never felt better #my writing

[percervall]

till morning comes, let's tessellate

Pairing: Mark Webber x fem!reader Words: 1219 Warnings: flirting, dirty talk, bratty behaviour, cockwarming

In which you're willing to play with fire

---

It’s far too hot, is the only way you can describe the weather. Having grown up in Europe, it always messes with your brain a little whenever you and your husband spend the better part of January in his home country of Australia, where it’s very much summer instead of winter. Mark doesn’t mind; he will happily work out in the garden while you prefer to remain in the shade of the plum trees as you read a book in the hammock Mark had hung for you. Which is what you had been doing until watching your husband doing manual labour proved too much of a distraction. You can’t help but clench your thighs together as he walks back towards the house, wiping his brow with the shirt he had taken off already. There is no way you can continue reading now, not when Mark lifts one of the logs of a fallen tree up onto his shoulder to carry it into the shade. The threadbare fabric of the oversized t-shirt you found in the back of his closet rubs over your nipples and you can’t help but bite back the whimper that’s threatening to come out at the feeling. Fuck, you are so turned on already and all he’s done is carry wood. Mark looks up at you, giving you a knowing smirk.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get her husband to give her attention?” you pout, e-reader now forgotten in your lap. 

“You always have my attention, sweetheart,” Mark responds, dropping another log next to the ones already there. 

“Besides, you were reading,” he adds, an eyebrow raised. He has you there; the world could go up in flames without you even realising whenever you’re engrossed in a book. Whatever witty retort you might have come up with dies on your lips as he swings the axe and chops the fire wood for the pizza oven you had surprised him with for your anniversary. Your breath catches in your lungs and your clit throbs as you watch the muscles in his back move under his bronzed skin. 

“I’m sure Fernando would’ve,” you say instead once you’ve found your tongue. Mark just hums, amused at your sudden brattiness. 

“I wouldn’t bet on that, but sure darling,” he says, raising the axe again. Mark’s got a point, even if it pains you to admit that.

“Jenson definitely would,” you counter instead. At this point you might as well fully commit to riling him up.

“Sweetheart, you work with him and know just as well as I do, he would not give you the attention you need,” Mark replies. Damn this man, you think as you grow hot all over at the implication of his words. Jenson is just as much a tease as you can be, and while this makes for great TV as you wind each other up, you need a man who-.. Well, frankly you need a man who can put you in your place, sometimes literally. Just the memory of Mark throwing you onto the bed as if you weigh nothing has you clenching your thighs to alleviate the ache you feel. 

“That’s what I thought,” he muses as he watches you. You huff, folding your arms over your chest which causes the shirt to bunch up a little higher up your thighs. Mark’s eyes catch the way it shows off your legs, lust quickly replacing the bemusement in his eyes. Oh, you’ve got this man right where you want him. Trying not to show just how smug you’re feeling, you place your e-reader on the little side table as you sit up on your knees –which, given the fact that you’re in a hammock, is easier said than done.

“Maybe I should give Sebby a call. If all you’re gonna do is talk, I might as well have a little fun,” you taunt, shrugging a shoulder as you give him your most innocent look. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, bringing up his last teammate. Mark and Sebastian were competitive to a fault, and while you never even considered giving in to Sebastian’s advances on you, you know the fact they vied for your attention always brings out this possessive streak in your husband.

Mark drops the axe and saunters over to you.

“Is that so, sweetheart? What exactly do you think Seb can give you? Hm? Bees?” 

“Among other things,” you quip, anticipation swirling low in your belly as he towers over you. One hand comes to rest on your chin, lifting your face up so he can look you in the eyes. His thumb drags on your bottom lip, making your eyes flutter closed, and for a brief moment you think he will make you suck on it. Your eyes snap open as soon as you hear his chuckle.

“You always talk such a big game, but as soon as there’s even a possibility of me giving what you want, you fold so quickly. What happened to using your words, darling?” 

“‘S more fun this way,” you mumble, and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

“Getting punished for being a brat is your idea of fun?” Mark asks, eyebrow raised. You shrug once more. 

“You know how much I love it when you spank me,” you say as plainly as you can while you need to fight the urge to squeeze your thighs shut. One of Mark’s hands drags up your thigh and under the t-shirt. Biting your lip, you look at him waiting for the moment he will realise this t-shirt is the only thing you’re wearing. 

“You are incorrigible.” “Mm, that’s a big word for you, baby.” 

“It’s not the only thing that’s big, sweetheart,” Mark says with a grin that has your heart beat stuttering. His hands move to your ass and you have just enough awareness to wrap your arms around his neck before he lifts you up. In hindsight, it’s quite impressive how he manages to get in the hammock with you. 

“Wha- what are you doing?” you ask as he moves you into his lap, both your knees bracketing his hips.

“Oh sweetheart, wasn’t this your plan all along? So desperate for my cock that she forgot all her manners,” he coos, pulling his shorts down just far enough to free himself. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper as he drags it along your slit, rubbing over your clit with each pass. 

“Mm, thought so,” Mark muses, lifting you up slightly so he can align himself with your entrance. He slowly sinks you down onto him, and you can’t help but pant at the stretch when he bottoms out. 

“Mmhmm, that’s right sweetheart. You just wanted to be full, didn’t you?” 

“Uhu..” you whisper, unable to come up with any sort of comeback or sassy remark. Placing your hands on his pecs, you try to roll your hips to get some friction, but Mark halts your movements. 

“Mark,” you whine, “please, need you..” 

“Oh but you have me, sweetheart. Only good girls get fucked. Naughty girls will just have to make do with cockwarming.” 

“So mean,” you pout, earning you a kiss.

“Make you a deal, read your book like the good little girl I know you can be, and maybe I’ll let you come.” 

written as part of @footballffbarbiex's kink bingo challenge

Well. There you have it. My descend into madness has lead me down a semi-smutty path. Y'all have @norrisleclercf1 to blame for the existence of this fic

Please let me know what you think! Your comments, tags, and likes mean the world to me 💜

#f1 fanfic #mark webber smut #mark webber fanfic #mark webber x reader #mark webber x you #kink bingo challenge

[just-jordie-things]

ik you literally JUST reblogged this but i was online so 😭 kiss prompt 52 w megumi 🫣🫣 -🌿

YES and ur not the only one it appears i've opened the floodgates for smooches

52: Accidentally Witnessed Kiss

**aged up characters!!** ___

you and megumi are good at hiding your relationship. very good, in fact, you're quite surprised that your nosey friends haven't caught on yet. just last week nobara tried to set you up with a salesman at a boutique you frequented. sure, megumi was a little annoyed by the notion, but you claimed it was only a testament to how well you'd kept your relationship hidden.

and of course hiding it was the right thing to do. your friends, and your sensei, were a pestering group, and you both agreed you didn't need any added stressors in your life. your relationship was yours, and it was meant to be a form of relaxation. after taxing assignments and grueling training sessions, it was comforting to know you could sneak into each other's rooms and hide away in each other's presence, forgetting about the rest of the world as you enjoyed being wrapped up in each other's arms.

it had been nearly six months of this. the sneaking around, the hidden gifts and love letters, the subtle brushes of his knuckles against the back of your hand as you walked side by side but at a safe, platonic distance from one another. you often didn't even sit by one another during movie nights, or shared lunches. you were so damn good at hiding your development out of friendship that your friends didn't even know how well you got along, if at all.

they didn't know that the sound of megumi's giggles when you asked him if he'd love you if you were a worm was the cutest sound in the world to you. they didn't know that megumi had your favorite drink memorized to order it for you. they didn't know you kept a special necklace around your neck at all times, tucked under the collar of your uniform. it's closer to my heart that way, you'd said cheerily when megumi had put it on for you for the first time. they didn't know you were each other's first love, and you very much intended for it to be your only love.

but everything comes to an end at some point, and the secrecy among such a close group of individuals could only last so long.

you were sitting on the counter in the small kitchenette that was a shared space in the hall of dormitories. your laughter was stifled behind your hand as megumi dumped out the leftovers he'd planned on eating for a late night snack. he wasn't as amused as you were, grumbling as he reached into the cabinet to eat cup noodles, yet again.

"i told you that they wouldn't stay good for that long," you scold, although your voice is soft and your eyes hold nothing but adoration. "you should've had them yesterday"

"yesterday was the only day we could go on a proper date with no one wondering where we were," megumi reminds you.

it had been a rare occasion, yuuji and nobara were partnered up for an assignment for the evening, giving you both just enough time to go to dinner and rush back before anyone could notice your absence.

"would you have rathered we stay here instead?" megumi asks, expecting you to pout and admit that going out was worth it.

instead you sit up a little straighter, reaching your arms around his neck to draw him closer to you. sitting on the counter gave you enough of a height advantage that you could be eye to eye with him.

"maybe," you muse thoughtfully, still tugging him close until he's slotted in the space between your legs.

his palms are warm as they rest on your thighs, and he too slides you closer to the edge of the counter in an attempt to draw you near enough that there wasn't a centimeter of space between you both. you smile at the action, nudging your nose against his.

"i do quite like staying in, with you" you hum, lashes fluttering as your eyes travel from his lips up to his own hooded gaze. he's smiling rather lazily at you, amused by the sudden affection.

normally he'd banter with you a bit more, just enough to tease and annoy you, before giving into what you so obviously really wanted.

but it was almost two in the morning now, there was no chance of anyone being around at this hour, and your hands were just so warm at the nape of his neck that he craved the rest of your warmth.

so his executive decision to give in completely, closing the small space left between your lips and sealing them with a kiss that had you humming in delight. he could feel you smiling in your victory.

the microwave is beeping with his finished noodles, but you're both far too melted into one another to care about the ringing sound by that point. your hands are too busy messing up his hair, carding through the soft locks until their nearly falling flat from how much you teased them. his own hands are having a hard time staying firmly on your hips, as the hem of your shirt moves and your warm skin is literally right at his finger tips. his movements are calculated as he carefully works his palms over your skin. somehow his hands are hot to the touch and yet leave goosebumps in their wake as they slide from your hips, to the small of your back, to your hips again. his fingers are splayed out wide, wanting to feel as much of you as he could.

you're lost in time, lost in him, you have no idea how long it's been since he'd started kissing you, and you don't know how long it'll be until one of you realize you should probably stop, but you push the thought away. why you'd ever stop kissing megumi, you don't know.

but the answer provides itself in the sound of plastic clattering to the linoleum floor.

your lips are off each other with an exaggerated smack, but no other noise fills the room as you and megumi turn your heads to the sound, only to find yuuji standing in the entryway of the kitchenette. his eyes are unblinking, and wide, and there's a plastic spider-man cup rolling on the ground at his feet.

unfortunately, your shared shock leaves you so frozen, that there's no chance of explaining yourselves to the pink haired boy. megumi's hands are still clearly under your shirt, while your hands are in loose fists in his hair. both of your mouths are swollen, hanging open slightly, both to say something that wasn't coming to mind, and also to pant for air seeing as you'd been rather... occupied.

would he believe you if you said friends just make out sometimes? probably not.

"you- you're-" yuuji raises a shaky, pointing at you both to gesture to what he didn't know how to explain.

he felt like he just walked in on santa claus placing gifts under the christmas tree. or seen bigfoot dash between trees. or caught nobara's roots growing in. this was such an unbelievable sight, his brain was hardly processing.

"you're kissing!" it finally comes out, so loud it stirs you and megumi out of your compromising position.

he quickly removes his hands from under your shirt, tugging down the hem for good measure, and you're scooting back on the countertop to put as much space between you both as you could. anxiously, megumi's running his hands through his hair to make it look as untouched as possible. it was all in vain, your nervous movements to make it seem like yuuji hadn't caught anything, because he most certainly had.

"we- we were just-" you start, but look to megumi for help.

"yeah- we- i mean- nothing- well-" he tries to help you finish an excuse but you're both gaping at each other and shaking your heads, not knowing what you could say to make yuuji forget what he saw.

megumi sighs.

you give your friend a wince of a smile.

"any chance you won't tell everyone?"

yuuji simply shakes his head, his expression unwavering.

didn't think so, you thought.

"no one will believe you" megumi tries, but yuuji shrugs.

"i dunno. you have a hickey" yuuji replies, calmly, as though in a state of shock.

megumi's hand smacks over his neck before he's turning to glare at you. however, realizing there was no coming back from this, you burst into a fit of giggles, much to his dismay.

"a hickey?" he hisses in annoyance. "what are you, fifteen?"

"what!? you liked it!" you say through your giggles.

with your mini argument taking place, yuuji had plenty of time to race off towards the dorms to wake up nobara first. then they would certainly call their sensei to deliver the news. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi brainrot #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro #megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[chilschuck]

Chilchuck but we are his pretty wife, and we didn't abandon him this time.

Not only that, but we are also very caring and nice, and it's practically a surprise how we are with someone like Chilchuck.

I can picture him standing with a serious face and all gloomy, and then we are next to him beaming rays of sunshine (bonus if we are also blonde and a hafling)

They are literally the "sunshine x grumpy" trope

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhhh my god. so……..i was so happy with this cute request that i kind of ran with it LOL. this is such a good concept and i can picture this so well in my brain. i wrote a domestic lil drabble that i hope is okay, as my thoughts just went insane over this. WAHHHH i hope you enjoy and that this is okay!! thank you so much for your idea, anon!! <3

— SUNSHINE: chilchuck x wife!reader.

꒰ rating: ꒱ sfw and soooo fluffy. reader is also a half-foot!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 675

✦ please i need more domestic bliss with this man. he deserves to feel so loved and happy. i tried to keep this light and sweet and playful bc i think he’d be grumpy but also. give this man the love he needs and he’ll thrive please chilchuck just one chance please pleas—

“Chil?” Your voice was so soft and sweet, it’s honey-like tone melting him to his core. You had decided to surprise him with breakfast this morning, something you loved to do when you had him here with you.

If the smell didn’t rouse him, your presence certainly did. It was an understatement to say that you were his weak spot, a point within him that he tried not to dwell on too much. Especially when the sun hit you in that halo of light at just the right angle, seeping through the windows and making his eyes flutter. Waking up to you was an experience he felt he couldn’t get enough of, drunk off of your velvet words as you brushed the bangs out of his face.

“Mm?” Was his only response, leaning subconsciously into your touch with a gruff sigh. You only laughed, that twinkle in your voice causing his heart to stutter within his chest. Why must he be married to the human form of sunshine? Surely his constant grumpiness would deter you, but much to his amusement, it only made you grin.

“Do you want breakfast, love?” Gods, when you called him that, he could feel his ears burn hot. Finally fully opening his eyes, his gaze found yours, softening instantly. How he managed to find someone like you, he would never understand. Regardless, he sat up, pawing at his eyes to dust the sleep from them. “I’d rather have you.” You heard him grumble, cheeks rosy. Another one of those addicting laughs left you. He didn’t think it was amusing. “Fine, I’ll get up…”

You practically bounced in place, rocking on your feet in excitement. It wasn’t hard to see that you adored your husband, his sleep shirt wrinkled and hair messy from sleep making you bite your lip in glee. Chilchuck gave you a skeptical look, scratching the back of his head before stretching. The action reminded you that he did have a little height on you, your own size as a half-foot causing you to feel small in any context. His shirt rode up to expose the tummy there, causing you to leave your gaze locked at that spot for a moment.

“Are you really this excited for me to get out of bed?” He mused, grumpiness slowly ebbing away at the warmth completely radiating off of you. You felt yourself nod, wrapping your arms around his waist and peering up at him with that expression that always made him weak in the knees. “I’m always excited for my husband to wake up and join the living again.”

“Is that so?” Chilchuck grinned, his voice rumbling in his chest and tingling against your skin. “You want a grump like me awake at this hour?” You couldn’t help but feed into him, continuing to nod your head cheerfully. “Really? Then it would be a shame if…”

Before he finished his sentence, you felt yourself pulled down to the bed as he fell backwards, a yelp leaving you in shock. He held you in his embrace, nuzzling into your neck and yawning. “...I took you down with me. Oh well.” Obnoxiously fake snores followed his teasing reply, causing you to laugh in bewilderment.

“Chilchuck, are you serious? I had finally gotten you up! Everything that I made is gonna get cold!” Although you spoke with mock frustration, the longer you found yourself in his embrace, the more you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Huffing, you relented. “Not my fault that your breakfast is going to be freezing by the time you finally get moving.” Your own grumbling, voice muffled against his shirt, caused him to chuckle. Your head buzzed.

His playfulness this morning made you feel a little giddy, studying his face as the light filtered in. A few gray hairs were illuminated in the sea of auburn, something you found pleasure in. You had to remind yourself that you both weren’t as young as you used to be, but if you were able to continue spending this life with him, well… Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿 #୨ chilchuck my beloved ୧ #i hope this is okay!!! #dividers by cafekitsune #i actually kinda like this one…. #maybe bc it’s so self-indulgent like everything i seem to write #welp. LOL #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #x reader

[ageingfangirl2]

You Can't Hurt Me! Haruchiyo Sanzu (Tokyo Revengers)

You work in a coffee shop, another day of being bored and fake smiling at customers, until a pink-haired man comes crashing through the window and meets his match. Sanzu x Reader (Bonten Timeline)

'Only two more hours until I can close this place,' you mutter under your breath, leaning on the counter with your hands on your face.

Your eyes roam lazily over the scattered handful of customers in the coffee shop. A loved-up couple in the corner huddled together whispering and blushing, a few businessmen and women tapping away at their phones, and a wannabe writer who practically lives here. All day everyday just like you, you think gloomily.

Still leaning on one hand, you tap your fingers on your other hand impatiently on the counter, musing over ways you could close the shop early for the day. You had three options that sprung to mind; one, you could make up an excuse about a gas leak since the building down the road had one a month ago, two, act crazy so everyone leaves and you potentially get fired, or three, bide your time patiently so you earn every dime of your paycheck.

You decide on option three, blowing out a loud sigh. You needed the money, you couldn't afford to lose this job in the current economy. Making coffee wasn't your ideal life, the job wasn't that hard, it just got boring in the late afternoon when the crowds thinned and you were left to your own devices.

You pick up the rag over your shoulder, deciding to wipe the counter down one more time when a loud crash startles you and snaps you out of your thoughts.

A man quite literally comes flying through the window, sending glass shards across the room, luckily there were no customers in those window seats. Customers scream in terror, as the man, bloodied and bruised rises to his feet, but unlike everyone else, you weren't terrified because things just got interesting.

As if he knew you were watching him, his eyes snap in your direction, his gaze fierce and piercing. You could see why people would be scared of him because he had interesting scars around his mouth and screamed 'mafia' vibes. But right now all you could think about was how you had another mess to clean up and your boss wasn't going to be happy.

'Will you stop dripping blood all over my clean floors?' you ask, voice monotone as you meet his gaze.

He growls, his voice dark and dripping with menace, 'Excuse me?'

'I just mopped,' you reply, and stand up straight, stretching to work out some kinks in your back from leaning over.

He reaches around his back, pulls a gun from the waistband of his trousers and points it directly at you, a wicked grin creeping onto his lips. At this point what few customers had stayed to gawk flee from the shop leaving the two of you alone.

You stare him down as he chuckles, 'It's just the two of us now.'

You nod, 'Great, I was looking for an excuse to close early.'

His grin wavers. He tries to take a step towards you but staggers backwards, wincing. Whatever fight he'd been in, it was catching up to him, 'quick. Help dress my wounds.'

He waves his gun at you with shaky hands, 'or I'll shoot you dead.'

You clear your throat and raise a single eyebrow, 'only if you ask me nicely sir.'

His eyes widen in shock, probably not used to being spoken back to, 'What did you say?'

You sigh loudly again, imagining being anywhere but here right now, 'did your hearing get damaged when you came crashing through the window?'

'NO!' He snaps.

You motion behind him towards the front door, 'Come on, then. Walk outside, and enter with a better attitude. I'll treat your wounds, but you have to be respectful.'

Confusion, anger and something else flash across his face while you watch him with disinterest.

'Who do you think you are? Telling me what to do,' he waves his gun at you again as he speaks.

Your tiredness turns into anger, 'and who the hell do you think you are? If you don't want to bleed out, you need to...ask...me...nicely.'

He stares at you, his mouth agape, speechless. Then he grits his teeth, 'Fine. Will you please kindly help me with my wounds?'

You smile a little, 'there, was that so hard?'

You pull out the first aid kit from under the counter and walk around the counter holding it in front of you as you carefully approach him. You reach out to pull off his suit jacket, but he flinches away.

'What are you doing?' he gasps.

You roll your eyes, 'I need to be able to see the wounds to treat them.'

He blinks a couple of times, realisation dawning on his face, 'Oh, right...go ahead...'

You extend your hand again slowly as if he were a dangerous animal that might bite. This time he lets you help him out of his jacket which you place over the back of a nearby chair, while he winces.

You let him remove his waistcoat, tie and shirt which was bloodied. It was a lot to take in coming face to face with his bare chest, he was in good physical shape. You'd think he was carved out of stone if it wasn't for the warmth that came off his body reminding you he was human. You quickly tell your brain to get out of the gutter with dirty thoughts, seeing the amount of blood on his chest, there was a lot of it.

The main wound was on his right ribcage, and looked like someone had stabbed him, but he had other cuts and gashes across his arms, and even his face, but some of those could have been from being thrown through a glass window.

You take a deep breath, 'let me guess, I'd hate to see the other guy?'

'Other guys,' he grumbles

You pull out a disinfectant wipe and dab at the cut on his face just to the left of one of his scars.

'FUCK YOU! OW!!!' he shouts.

You pull the wipe back in surrender, 'sorry, sorry,' you mumble, 'I should have warned you that this might sting a little.'

He grunts, and you move back in to dab the cut with a much more gentle touch, 'do you have to?'

You bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter, he's awfully scared for a tough guy, 'if it gets infected, it's going to hurt a whole lot more.'

You try to quickly clean the smaller cuts and gashes not wanting him to lash out at you because he couldn't handle a little pain. After throwing out the bloody wipes, you unroll the bandage and start to tackle the deeper wound on his ribcage. He grunts and grimaces as you wrap the bandage tighter and tighter around his body.

'You really should go to the hospital, looks like this might need stitches,' you observe, as you wrap, noticing some blood seeping through.

He huffs, 'I couldn't care less about how I look.'

You stop your work and pull back looking at him with your own grin. His perfectly styled pink hair and smart clothes, all screamed I care, 'sure you don't.'

You cut the excess bandage and tape it down, 'how did you get into this mess if you don't mind me asking.'

He eyes you suspiciously, 'what do you care?'

You shrug your shoulders, 'Call me curious. Maybe I'd like to avoid ending up in a similar situation if it isn't safe around here anymore.'

He scoffs, trust me, I don't think you need to worry about that.'

You match his scoff, 'why not?'

He eyes you up and down smirking, 'You don't seem the type to get into trouble.'

You chew your lip, weighing up his words, 'Is that a compliment or an insult?'

He shrugs, 'You decide.'

You smile and puff out your chest proudly, 'compliment then.'

You watch him put his shirt back on along with the waistcoat which he leaves open, before slowly and carefully putting his jacket back on with the tie now in the pocket. When he's done you take a step back and finally take in the messy scene around you, 'now you can help me clean this place up.'

His mouth hangs open, 'you want me to what?'

You motion around you at the broken glass and blood, 'Clean up. Look at the mess you made. I've had a long day...a long week... and an even longer year.'

You slump down into a nearby chair, suddenly feeling the full weight of your exhaustion after the small adrenaline rush.

He shakes his head, 'do you think I care?'

You click your tongue, 'I don't know. I don't care.'

His brows furrow together, 'why aren't you afraid of me?'

You shrug a shoulder, 'I'm too tired to be afraid of you right now.'

He squints at you, curiosity in his eyes, 'You should be terrified of me. You should be begging me to spare your life.'

He prowls towards you, wearing a menacing grin, 'Don't you know who I am? Don't you know who I work for?'

'Enlighten me then,' you reply, back in your monotone voice from before.

His eyes narrow to snake-like slits as he takes in your bored expression, 'I'm one the most powerful and dangerous men you'll ever meet. I'm Haruchiyo Sanzu.'

You blink a couple of times, you couldn't care less who he thought he was, you hadn't heard his name before or even seen him around his area before.

He fingers the gun which was back in his waistband, 'I could hurt you so bad. You'd wish you were dead.'

You roll your eyes which you'd done a lot during this encounter, 'Sanzu, is it? I work in customer service. You can't hurt me in any way that matters.'

He looks frozen, almost like a deer in headlights. You manage to make yourself stand up and take off your apron which had his blood on and fling it on the table ready to call it a night.

'You--You don't--' he stammers, and this time when he eyes you up and down there's something different in his eyes, like he's seeing you for the first time.

You put your hands on your hips, ready to hand back any crap he decided to throw your way, 'What?'

He looks flustered, and he can't stop staring at you so you continue speaking, 'What? Spit it out. I don't have all night.'

As you step around him he manages to speak, 'You look better than this place, that's all. You don't belong here.'

You look down at your feet, suddenly very aware of yourself. You try to keep the heat from showing on your cheeks at his genuine words. He was the first person other than yourself who'd told you that you were better than this place.

'What do you mean by that?' you ask.

'It was meant as a compliment, geeze you're annoying,' he snaps back.

You pout, 'didn't sound like one with your tone is all.'

You flip the sign on the door from 'OPEN' to 'CLOSED' before heading back behind the counter to retrieve the brush and pan along with the mop bucket, ignoring Sanzu, though you could feel his eyes on you.

'Well, uh...I guess I'll be going then,' he says.

You glance over your shoulder at him to see he is checking out the name tag on your apron, '...nice name.'

You slap your hand down on the counter, at least pay for a coffee, you've done enough damage.'

He continues to stare at you with the same shocked expression, that seems to have a begrudging respect undertone, you guess he'd never come across somebody quite like you.

'Okay, fine,' he says calmly, and approaches the counter taking his wallet out of his back pocket instead of the gun.'

'Err...wh-what do you want?' you stutter, not expecting him to take up your offer or even pay.

'Surprise me,' he replies, a lazy smirk on his lips.

He knew he was affecting you, maybe getting the upper hand on you after your attitude towards him earlier. So you decide to make him the simplest drink, not just because you are lazy, but because you think it suits him.

'Double espresso, black,' you call out, putting the drink in front of him.

He picks it up and sips it, his eyes sparkling at you over the cup's rim. He doesn't make any noise of approval or disapproval. Instead, he passes a crisp one hundred across the counter towards you, 'Keep the change.'

You gape at him, staring at the money, as he swiftly finishes the drink and throws the takeaway cup in the bin next to the counter. Wordlessly, he struts out of the shop with his head held high, leaving you with the mess he'd made.

#anime blog #anime fanfiction #anime imagines #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo rev #tokyo rev imagines #tokyo rev fanfiction #tokyo revengers sanzu #tokyo rev sanzu #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x you #tokyo revengers bonten #tokyo rev bonten #bonten #sanzu bonten #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers

[nnight-dances]

SWEET BOY

PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader (ft. choi vernon)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: older brother figure to lover, childhood friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, jealousy, skinship, dk being a blushy idiot and you being a plain idiot.

lines are funny when it comes to your life. lines drawn from one point to another, lines forced to keep your work life and your personal life, but most important the big daunting line between you and your crush of nearly two years now, dokyeom. 

it's funny, it really is, given how much time you've spent riling yourself up over him, telling yourself that he should retain the role he always had in your life: the older brother figure. because dokyeom's heart-warmingly kind, no even more so– blood-curdingly kind, painfully nice to everyone he meets, patient beyond imagination. he's worse than any nice guys you've met, simply because he fits the archetype too well to be real. 

"don't you get tired?" you ask him, when he shows up at your door, clutching bags of take-out food, no doubt after hearing from your mom how you haven't had a chance to eat. yet, you'd emphasized to her after you'd made the mistake of letting her know you were too busy to cook. 

"shouldn't i be asking you that?" dokyeom grunts as he lets himself into your house, familiar with the place like the back of his hand. "i know mr. ko called you in and gave you an earful for missing the last deadline, but that's no excuse to skip meals."

okay, worth mentioning is the fact that while you knew dokyeom since childhood thanks to the fact that you grew up in the same household, you'd also ended up moving to the city to sign a contract with the publishing company where he worked at, as an editor. it was half a coincidence, because you can't say you sought out the company simply on its merits. 

you sigh as you stretch out a crick in your neck, "i'm not doing this because mr. ko told me to. i'm fine, i'm just trying to clear up my schedule before the end of the year. god knows i don't want to be working on new year's eve."

"and you won't," dokyeom takes off his coat, revealing a light blue sweater underneath, one that you've grown fond of. it's a sweet sweater, for a sweet man. 

"well, thanks, anyway. for the food. sorry if my mom pestered you into doing this."

"i don't want to hear a word out of you till you've eaten."

you obey him silently, taking out the lukewarm bánh mì from its bag and starting to eat. dokyeom watches with a slight smile, noting how your hair was in a ponytail, a rare occurrence. just another indication that you were forcing yourself to work too hard. 

"what am i going to with you…" he muses to himself, slowly tidying up the mess on your writing corner. the little wooden table you'd spent hours studying and testing before buying, is crowded with stationery and a few notebooks. your laptop sits blank, screen indicating that it was close to dying. dokyeom brushes off the stray balls of napkins off and into the small trashcan next to the chair, followed by all the tiny eraser dust particles. he's just plugged in your laptop when he hears you call out his name softly. 

"hmm?" he calls back. "you want some coffee?" you ask and when dokyeom arches a brow at you, you wave your empty hands, "i'm done eating! can a girl not want a warm liquid post-meal?"

"fine, fine. i'll have some, thanks." he laughs as you glare at him, mumbling incoherencies about him. 

"oh, right, i almost forgot to tell you," dokyeom pulls out his phone, ten minutes later when the two of you are settled on the couch, waiting for your steaming mugs to settle down a little. "there's a department-wide party this sunday, an end of year gathering or something. you should come, i hear the budget this year's crazy. it's at a fancy hotel and everything."

you narrow your eyes at dokyeom, "i don't know about that. work parties are a slog, dude. i can't stand to get drunk with the people who literally torture the creativity out of me."

"that's harsh, y/n. and an exaggeration."

"whatever…" you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, "i… i don't even have a date. it's kind of a short notice to find someone anyway–"

"i'll be your date," dokyeom offers, faster than either of you could comprehend his response. his ears flush, "um, i mean, i'll go with you, if you don't… mind."

"why would i mind? i just thought you'd have someone to go with already," you say and when you catch the shy look on your friend's face, "unless of course, nobody's asked you. which i totally understand."

"hey! i don't want to take names but i've had to tell some people no already. so don't–"

"oh? so you rejected the people who did ask you? i thought you were too nice to do that. "

"yeah, i did. i didn't want to go with them. i don't know them well enough to guarantee they'll be fun for the entire night. plus, it's messy going with someone from work. you agree once, who's to say they'll keep asking you for life?"

"i'm someone from work, too," you point out, averting your gaze to the coffee, watching the evaporation swirl around. 

"you're different, silly," dokyeom chuckles out, arm hitting yours, "we're already messy. i knew you before work, and i'll know you long after. we're more than that, you know?"

that? whatever he meant, you find your heart soaring ever so much, "hm, i suppose you're not wrong. fine, i'll come to the party." if it's with you. 

that night you find yourself obsessing over this conversation. what did dk mean we're already messy? you were messy? you knew he didn't mean that like a bad thing but the word unsettled you anyway. your feelings for him only made it harder to listen to him objectively, especially when he says stuff like we're more than that. more than what, exactly?

– 

dokyeom's having a hell of a day, carrying around a headache he's had since this morning and a heavy to-do list that doesn't seem to be going anywhere despite the fact that he's been at his desk for about five hours now. he sits back with a grunt, taking his eyes off his screen for a moment to take a break. 

as soon as he tunes back into the physical world around him, he overhears his coworkers chatting near his desk, instant coffeee in hand. 

"yo, you're kidding! how'd you get her number finally?" ren, a newbie, elbows the man next to him. vernon, the man in question, is grinning too wide for his own good. 

"i just asked her for it. i told her i had some important doubts about her new manuscript."

"that didn't annoy her?"

"nah, y/n's chill like that. she was super nice about it, too, telling me she would love to hear from me."

ren gasps dramatically, "no way, do you think she–"

dokyeom clears his throat with a start, having had enough as an eavesdropper for the day. he stands up, making eye-contact with vernon who shoots him a nonchalant smile. it pisses dokyeom off, how wasn't he bothered? 

his headache's only getting worse so he decides to get himself something to eat while he's at it. some fresh air might help him. he shoots the pair a stiff smile as he leaves the office, hand clutching his phone a little too hard. as he gets into the elevator, he's alerted of a message.

speak of the devil, he thinks when your name pops up on his screen. am i expected to dress formal for this party? you ask. 

only if u want to :) he shoots back.

… what kind of an answer is that. 

an honest one. expectations are only as high as you want them to be.

you know i hate you right 

enough to ask me to be ur date? <3 <3 

you're befuddled on the other side of the chat, "who asked who?" you mumble, choosing to not respond to dokyeom's frustrating reply to your very genuine question. 

dokyeom, on the other hand, is feeling much better now that he's had a chance to talk to you. where you're reserved about your feelings for him, dokyeom really couldn't be more transparent about them. or so he thinks. but really, he's convinced he couldn't be clearer about how he feels about you– instantaneous responses to your texts, making sure you eat on time, corresponding with your mom to reassure her of your good health, careful attention to what you're into at the time so he can buy you the things you refuse to splurge on. 

to dokyeom, this was the clearest confession of his love for you. the only reason he hasn't vocalized it in person is because he doubts any good would come out of it. he's more than happy with the relationship he has with you, a safe enough distance but a warm closeness anyway. besides, he's pretty certain you think of him as more of a brother than anything. an older brother figure you've known since you were children. better to keep things the way they were. right?

– 

dokyeom's increasily unsure about his convictions to keep things the same. maybe it had something to do with the fact that you look breathtaking tonight. you're adorned in the prettiest pink dress, eyes sparkling more than usual thanks to the glitter you'd dabbed on and hair cascading down to your shoulders in curls that has him a little weak in the knees.

he does visibly gape at you when you greet him at the door with a small smile. he's flustered enough to be out of words so you're left speaking to a shell of him. "hey, you're a little earlier than i imagined. i'm almost ready. come in though." 

when he stands still despite your invitation, you frown. "dokyeom?" he bites his lip as he comes to and nods, walking in after you. "you good?"

"yeah, just a little nervous."

"nervous?" 

"you look really pretty," he musters, reddening when your eyes widen at his honest confession, "i'm a little dizzy." the two statements are correlated but you don't pick up on that, instead becomes concerned. you take his arm and your cold touch on his arm only sends him further down his dazed condition.

"dizzy? that's no good. come sit," you pull him to the couch, making him take a seat. god, dokyeom thinks he's dreaming when you touch his cheek, "do you need medicine? warm tea? water?"

he clears his throat, "n-no, i'm fine," he lets himself fall against the cushions, closing his eyes against the rush in his veins. "just– you should go get ready. i'll be back to normal soon."

you look at him in confusion for a prolonged few seconds before giving up and doing as he said. when you come back, you have a lip gloss and heels on. "okay," you announce to the back of dokyeom's head, "i'm ready, dk."

he sits up quickly, head clearing up now. he turns around to you and smiles a cheerful smile that is much more like him. "alright! let's go!" 

you watch him warily anyway, all the way to his car. "ah, your hair–" you reach out to the back of his head where some hair stuck out from his earlier meltdown. gently, you brush the disturbances away, fingers swift in their adminstrations. dokyeom thinks he might break down again, the gesture making him feel giddy all over again. it doesn't help when he feels your warm breath on his neck when you sigh, returning to your seat. "ok, no more hair casualities, we are set to go."

dokyeom can't afford to look up at you so he simply starts the car, keeping his head straight so he can drive the both of you to the venue safely. 

being in a room bustling with people he knows really helps dokyeom, for as soon as you reach the hall, he takes off in a rush, something about having to greet everyone that's important. you don't know to feel about his flight but you manage to shrug it off, trusting him enough to know he'll be back before long. 

you station yourself near the refreshments, finding yourself a flute of champagne and some hors d'oeuvres to keep you company while dokyeom does what he does. you find yourself mildly enjoying yourself, people-watching all sorts of groups and downing your second serving of champagne, when you're joined by someone. 

it's kitty, a coworker you're less than fond of, thanks to her loud mouth and overwhelming beauty. she's dressed in an immaculate white dress, face glowing even in the harsh light as she smiles at you. "y/n!"

"kitty," you acknowledge her with a cordial nod of your own, hoping this wouldn't take too long.

"how've you been? you look much better than the last time i saw, so not too bad i hope!"

your smile sours, "i'm fine, kitty. nice to see you're feeling as chatty as usual." 

"i am! what better ocassion than a party to be social," she remarks pointedly and you contain a sigh. kitty was an important coworker, unfortunately for you, with her in charge for your public image and general likeability. it really should be criminal how little she likes you for someone who has to make sure you appeal to the masses. 

"i didn't even think i'd see you around. you have a date?"

"i'm here with dokyeom, yeah." 

this seems to startle kitty, because she's speechless for a moment. "dokyeom? he said yes to you?"

ignoring whatever undertones of disbelief kitty's giving off, you roll your eyes, "it was more that he forced me to come with him, but yeah, sure, however you wanna say it." 

"wow, dokyeom's really kind to do that. he even turned me down. he must really treasure your friendship."

now you've had enough of her insinuations, so you cut the chat short. "sorry, kitty, i need to use the bathroom. excuse me." 

you break away from her, feeling the weight of her glare at your aloofness. you really don't care for her snarky remarks usual, long-accustomed to the kind of gossip she likes to generate. but tonight, your tolerance was low. you didn't want to think about why dokyeom asked you to come to the party, and you certainly didn't want kitty's suggestions marinate in your mind. but it's too late, you feel your chest tighten at the thought of dokyeom feeling pity for you, asking you to come because that's just how kind he was, and you, his best charity case. 

dokyeom spots you from across the room where he's eventually recovered from his weak condition. he feels guilt spike through his veins when he sees you storm away from kitty, who's no doubt spewed some obnoxious nonsense to make you leave the room with that tense expression of yours.

he excuses himself from his conversation to run off after you, managing to catch you as you leave the hall. 

"y/n!" he calls out, catching ahold of your shoulder. "where are you going?" 

you stop, startled by dokyeom's interception. you slowly turn around, trying your best to neutralize your expression. "um, just using the bathroom. i drank that champagne a little too fast." 

"oh, you sure you're okay? i saw you talking to kitty earlier and i know how frustrating she can be."

you laugh mirthlessly, "i'll be okay as long as i don't run into her in the next five months or so." you turn away, presumably toward the washroom. you'd hoped your explanation would be enough to soothe dokyeom's curiosity but then you hear him follow after you. 

"dk?"

"i'll go with you."

"to the washroom?" 

"uh, yeah. i'll walk you in case you can't find your way back."

"they have signs everywhere and the party's in the biggest hall here– i– whatever, i need to pee too bad to argue with you right now." 

from thereon, dokyeom doesn't leave your side for a second. you don't know what to think of it but you don't complain because your mood's much better when you spend your time by his side, shitting on the ocassional passerby and laughing at each other's jokes. 

dokyeom regrets leaving you by yourself in the first place, especially because he's almost too certain that kitty had told you he'd turned her invitation down. it was awkward to even look at her, let alone talk to her. but then again, she's never been one to care about other people's comfort because about halfway into the night, you spot her trailing back to your table with a few people following her. 

the group crowds your table and you find yourself pressed against a stranger who no doubt works with kitty. he shoots you a sleazy smile and you're grateful when you feel dokyeom subtly pull you closer toward him with a hand around your waist. what you don't expect is him to leave him arm there, draped down your back, finger resting against the small of lower back, sending chills up your spine.

"hey, you two! what're you upto, you've been stuck to this table for the entire night," kitty laughs. 

dokyeom notices vernon among the group, much to his chagrin, smiling at you boyishly. you wave back at vernon with a soft chuckle, thankful that not everyone in this crowd was a snoozefest. 

"just talking," is dokyeom's curt response. "are y'all enjoying the party?" he adresses the larger group, making it a point to not look at kitty. 

"i wish there was more real food," someones pipes in with a grunt and people laugh in agreement. 

"the wine's really good though. expensive stuff," vernon points out, looking at the wine glass propped between you and dokyeom. 

"yeah, it's maybe the best thing about this party," you chime in with a smile. before dokyeom can somehow bring up the fact that he'd been drinking out of the same glass as you, ren gasps out loud, "oh my god, guys, the mistletoe man's back!"

you look around in confusion and find a man dressed in green overalls walking around with some mistletoe stuck his chest, neatly tied with a red ribbon stuck to his chest. "the fuck?" you mumble out and dokyeom laughs at your bewilderment. "it's a stupid tradition," dokyeom says softly to you, "heard someone say it's to foster closer connections between workers."

"by forcing them to kiss?" you whisper back with a grimace as you watch a pair break away from their kiss with bitter expressions. it's fine though because they look at each other's disgust and break into laughter, their table cheering them on. 

"i think it's cute!" kitty remarks, watching the man as he turns around from a few tables over.

"shit, i think he's coming over here," ren curses. "why's that a bad thing?" kitty questions, smiling, eyes glued to the side of dokyeom's face. you might gouge your eyes out one of these days. you're too busy ignoring the ruckus kitty's causing with her frantic giggles as the mistetoe man approaches her. but then he goes past her and she goes silent, eyes coming to still behind you. that's when you realize the mistletoe man's standing square between you and dokyeom. 

you turn around to the man with wide eyes but he simply smiles, "the mistletoe man knows when he sees two lovers!" you don't know what he means till you become aware of dokyeom's arm around you. he pulls away in surprise and his face is red when you look up at dokyeom. 

"this is stupid," you murmur, hoping he'll agree and you wouldn't have to participate in this tradition.

"kiss! kiss! kiss!" ren starts a chant and everyone but kitty and vernon is quick to join in. dokyeom looks bewildered at the unison, and he looks at you, then down at your lips. "we don't have to do this," he comforts you.

"do you want to?" you ask him under your breath. you feel yourself flushing. 

"i'll do it if you want to."

you hate how agreeable dokyeom is sometimes, wishing he would decide for you, for this once. you don't want to think about all the eyes on you, the whispering that's no doubt been reignited. everyone knows you and dokyeom have been friends and maybe something more for years now, but to witness conclusive proof is thrilling to them. 

you feel frozen with the weight of the decision upon you. but then kitty opens her stupid mouth, "ah, dokyeomie, you don't have to do something you don't want to–" 

that spurs you on, you find yourself pressing yourself against dokyeom, raising yourself to his height so you can press your lips to his. he meets you halfway, as if he'd been waiting for you to do exactly this, his large hand finding your cheek so he can seal the deal. 

this goes without saying, you've never kissed dokyeom before, but the way it feels so natural has you questioning if this really was the first time. his lips are pillowy against yourself, his breath hitting your face sweetly when you finally pull away. his eyes are hooded like you've never seen them and you really wish you could memorize this feeling, ingrain it into your mind for later. 

but the moment breaks when you hear the table around you erupt with all kinds of reactions. you don't care to look though, too busy with your own reaction to handle. your heart's fluttering but your eyes feel watery when you pull away from dokyeom. you don't know what to think of all the lines you've been worrying about, the line between you and dokyeom cracking the moment you leaned into his lips. 

–

dokyeom's scared for his life right now. after the chaos around you settled a little, you'd looked at him and quietly asked if he could drive you home right now. he'd been quick to agree, following you out of the door without bidding anyone goodbye. but you're silent the entire walk to his car, not answering him when he asks if you're okay. 

now that you're settled in the car, he pauses before starting the engine. "y/n," he starts softly. you focus on your breathing, staring down at your hands blankly. "i'm sorry."

this makes you look up at him, mouth slightly ajar. "...why are you sorry?" you ask quietly, lips set in a narrow line.

"i– that must have made you uncomfortable. i didn't know what else to–"

"i was the one who kissed you," you comment, looking away and out the window, hands now fists in your lap. dokyeom watches as you tuck some stray strands of hair behind your ear, "i should be sorry."

should be, because you weren't a bit sorry about the kiss. the circumstances that caused it? sure. but the kiss itself wasn't something you would undo. 

dokyeom doesn't know what to say because there's so much to say. where does he even start? "i thought you always saw me as a… brother." 

"what?" your eyes hold a sea of disbelief in them but then as you blink back at a solemn dokyeom, you think it's not that crazy for him to think that after all. "well, i used to. how could i not? mom had drilled it into my system to rely on you like you were family."

dokyeom hums, "...and?"

"i mean, i clearly don't think… i don't have the feelings of a sister toward you," you mumble, your cheeks on fire when you hear your poor phrasing. "if i did, it would be a problem that i wanted to kiss back there."

"you did?" dokyeom gapes and you look at him with a slight tilt of your head. "i– obviously!" you tell him. 

he swallows, "wow. i don't even know what to think–" it's his turn to look at his hands that are trembling, "honest to god, i've never harboured anything but romantic feelings for you, y/n." he says this, head lowered as if in shame, ears revealing how embarassed he was. "i love your mother, but i swear she wanted to kill me the way she encouraged you to call me your brother when you were out with me." 

you grimace, holding back a chuckle, "i'm sorry…" 

"don't be," dokyeom sounds truly defeated, as if the work of hiding his feelings from you had finally caught up with him. "i'm sorry i didn't make myself clearer sooner. never imagined we'd talk about this because we got bullied into our first kiss."

you sigh, nodding as you mutter an agreement. dokyeom rises from his slouch slowly, coming to lock eyes with you. one of his hands comes to rest atop your own fist, prying it open so that you were holding his. you feel warm beyond imagination, feeling like you might burst open with the intensity of your feelings for dokyeom, wondering how you'd ever managed to keep them secret. 

"can…" you stop, voice hoarse, licking your lips nervously, "will you kiss me? for real this time?"

it doesn't take dokyeom a moment's hesitation to close the distance betwen you, his soft lips back on yours, not soon enough for you to get used to the gentle saccharine daze that overcame you. your unoccupied hand card through his hair, similar to a few hours ago when you'd been fixing it, but this time dokyeom lets out the mewl he'd been contatining last time.

he pulls away with a somewhat grunt, eyes starry, "there's no way you didn't know what your were doing." you look back at him, a little breathless with a look of complete confusion. 

he sighs, giving in and rest his head against yours, "when you were fixing my hair earlier, i thought i'd die of a heart attack. finally give up and move on from you, if only in death."

"don't say that, dk," you scold him, hands around him in concern, "and i don't understand why– i mean i feel like we've touched… in other ways before so–"

"i don't know either!" he exclaims, "i just– you looked so fucking gorgeous tonight and then you kept being oblivious to how obviously down bad i am for you– i just couldn't."

"hey, you weren't obvious if i didn't know! that's unfair…" you mumble, looking away with flushed cheeks. it didn't make sense to you.  but dokyeom simply laughs into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, not much of a change for your dynamic. you'd hugged dokyeom countless times before but now you feel unimaginably closer to him, like you were actually holding him, the entirety of him in your arms. it was incredible, the warmth that blossomed inside you in the silence that surrounded you. it was love.

love shows up even in the early mornings when you're with dokyeom. he'd slept over after your date last night, when you'd insisted you would be too lonely to sleep if he promptly took off (like a gentleman, he commented). you'd laid in bed till 2 am, kissing and talking the night away, his hands finding their indents underneath your worn-out tee. 

you wake up to his nose snuggled in your neck, breathing softly in slumber, hair sticking out every which way. you can't help the loving giggle that leaves you, making him stir in his sleep, arm coming to sit atop your bare stomach. 

"sweet boy," you mumble, placing a kiss atop his forehead and watching in awe as his brown eyes come to life at the action. "you awake?" you jokingly ask but dokyeom responds with a groggy grunt, smiling with fluttering eyes. 

you run a finger through his hair. he groans, "don't wake up yet." you laugh, stroking a strand behind his ear, "but i'm already–" 

he cuts you off with a pout, "no, don't wake up, love. please, want to sleep some more." 

you sigh and shift impossibly closer to him. "all right, then. can't argue with that logic." 

with that, you doze off again. how you manage to fall right back asleep is beyond you, though it might have something to do with the fact that dokyeom's presence brings you a serenity you didn't know you could feel, a feeling that's better than the soft comforter that he himself had picked out for your bed. his arms hold you close, the sweetness melting your heart the whole time you dream, dreaming of dokyeom and of love.

#dokyeom x y/n #dk x you #seokmin x reader #dokyeom svt #svt fics #svt x reader #dk x reader #lee seokmin #dk fics #lee seokmin x y/n #dokyeom seventeen #seventeen fics #seventeen imagine #seungcheol imagines #dokyeom fluff #svt fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #dk angst #kpop fic #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

[thetriumphantpanda]

Howdy Charlie 🤠 l have been enjoying these new fic releases from you. You’re amazing and I love reading your work at the end of the day to unwind.

I’m not in a hurry as I’ve read you’re taking a break but if you do get inspired to write again, can I please request

❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜ & ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

Pre-outbreak where reader does something that causes a huge fight with Joel and they ignore each other for days then reader thinks it’s the end of their relationship so she packs her bag to leave without a word but Joel comes home earlier than expected and stops her and they get into another fight before reconciling and he shows his sweeter side to make up to her . Can you make it EXTREMELY angsty and a lil fluffy in the end.

Thank you! 😘

Anon, when I say that I've had this fic sitting in my drafts FOR WEEKS I'm not even lying. I absolutely loved this prompt but idk I couldn't make it seem right... I've done my best, I really hope you enjoy it! I'm just on my Joel Miller bullshit atm, don't judge me.

Pairing | Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings | Some angst, some fluff, mentions of alcohol, mean!Joel at one point, SMUT - oral (f receiving) no use of y/n and I think that's it.

Main Masterlist

There was something about Joel Miller that had you smitten from the start. Maybe it was the fact that he was so different to the stupid college boys you’d been wasting your time with, or maybe it was the fact that he was devastatingly handsome, or the fact that whenever you were together, he would make it his mission to make you come enough times that you forgot your name before he even thought about taking pleasure for himself. Whatever it was he was different, and you were pretty sure you loved him. 

He'd barreled into your life headfirst a few months ago. Your car had given up the ghost on a small country road and you had no cell service to call a recovery. There had been a moment of dread when his truck had pulled up behind yours, this is how so many girls died in those documentaries you’d watched, but when he stepped out of his truck and that Southern drawl had hit your ears, you thought that even if he was going to murder you and leave you in a ditch, you wouldn’t mind all that much. Got you out of finishing your thesis if nothing else. 

“You stranded, sugar?” He’d called out, keeping his distance enough to reassure you he wasn’t going to try anything stupid. 

“Yeah,” You called back, “I have no idea what’s wrong with it and there’s no cell service.”

“You want me to take a look?” 

“You a mechanic?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not exactly, but I’m good with my hands.” 

The innuendo isn’t lost on either of you, you smirk but give him a signal to look at your car. He pops the hood and takes a few minutes to look around, “Was it steaming when you pulled over?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You admit. 

“Looks like it’s just overheated, sugar,” He muses, “Not much to do but sit and wait for it to cool down a little,” You pull a face at the thought of having to sit in your car without the air con, “I don’t got anywhere to be so you can sit in my truck with me for a bit?” He offers, “The air-con is on.” He adds, sweetening the deal. 

So you do. You sit with him for an hour, talking about your master’s programme and how stressed you are with your thesis. He talks about his work, bailing his brother out of jail for the second time that week and his daughter Sarah. When the sun starts to set, he jumps out of his truck to inspect your engine again, deeming it safe to drive. 

“Well, thanks,” You say as you sit in the driver’s seat and start the engine up, “Literally don’t know what I’d have done if it weren’t for you.” 

“You’d have let it sit, tried turning the key a little while later and been fine,” He chuckles, “But you’re welcome, it was nice meetin’ you.” 

“Joel-” You call as he tries to walk away, “Can I maybe buy you a drink to say thank you?” 

He turns around and smirks at you, “You askin’ me on a date?” 

“Would you say yes if I was?” You arch an eyebrow at him. 

“I’d be a fool not to, sugar.” 

It’s cliché for you to say but the rest really was history. You’d bought him a drink to say thank you a few days later, he’d bought you more because he liked your company. You’d snuck him into your room a few hours after that, managing to dash past the kitchen where your housemates were having dinner, where he’d spent an hour knelt between your legs, lapping at your pussy and then fucked you better than anyone had ever done in your life. 

It was summer break now. Sarah was away at camp for a few weeks, your thesis finally done and submitted. Joel had suggested that you stay with him, he’d mumbled something about it being nice not having to sneak around to see each other and you had to admit he was right. Waking up next to him with streams of sunlight illuminating his face, that was priceless. Making him breakfast before he went to work, domesticated but you loved it. 

It had been two weeks of that, with another one still to come before Sarah came home and you had to go back to the small room in your shared apartment. One of your friends had invited you out on Saturday night – a way for you all to celebrate being done with studies. You’d planned to go back to Joel’s that night, he’d even given you money for the cab ride home – but one too many tequila shots and a dead cell phone later, you’d been led back to your apartment by your friends, plugged your phone in to charge and promptly fallen asleep. 

When you’d woken up the next morning there was dread in your stomach, reading through the texts from Joel last night. Ten missed calls and texts that read where r u and please let me know ur safe. 

You dressed as quickly as you could, grabbing your phone and keys before you called a cab to pick you up. You knew you’d fucked up. You wanted to call him, let him know you were okay, but this was something you’d have to do face to face. It took far longer to get to Joel’s, Sunday morning traffic proving a challenge as you left the city and headed for the suburbs. You took a deep breath as you fit his spare key into the door and opened it. 

“Where the fucking hell have you been?” He asks when you shut the door and put your keys on the side table, “I’ve been worried sick about you all night.” 

“I’m sorry Joel,” You mumble, you really were, “We got carried away and then my phone died, and my housemates just dragged me back to my apartment, I was just going to charge my phone a little and then come back here but I must have fallen asleep.” 

“You didn’t think to use that landline’a yours?” He was sat on the couch, but he’d turned his body towards you in the doorway, he was pissed. 

“I’m sorry Joel, okay, it was a stupid mistake, what more do you want me to say?” 

“I gave you money to get home, told you to tell someone to remind you that’s where you were going, what were you thinking goin’ out and gettin’ so drunk you couldn’t remember where you were going home?!” 

“Don’t you dare make this out like I was outta control!” You counter, “I was safe Joel, I was with my friends, I’m not fucking stupid.” 

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” He’s standing now, taking steps towards you. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Should’a fuckin’ known,” He says, mostly to himself, “Don’t think about anyone but yourself, silly little girl.” 

His words cut through you like a knife. He’d never once made you feel like this. Despite the ten-year age gap you’d always seemed like his equal. Not now, now you felt small and insignificant. 

“You are losing my interest and that’s very dangerous.” Is all he says next.

“Fuck you Joel Miller,” You spit at him, reaching for your keys, “You think you’re doing me a favour? Letting me stay in your nice big house playing families? All you wanted was a fucking maid the way you’ve been behaving.” 

You’re out of the door, slamming it behind you and pulling your car out of his driveway in record time. You make it to the end of the round and a little way around the corner before you have to pull over and sob into your hands. 

*

Four days. Four miserable fucking days and he hadn’t even bothered to text you. You’d moped around in your room for the first twenty-four hours. Then your housemate had practically forced herself in because she thought you’d died. You’d cried to her about how unfair it was, then she’d made you sit on the couch, drink too much wine and watch shitty reruns. 

If it had been four days and he hadn't bothered to message, then it really must be over, right? You led in bed that morning running through all the things you’d left at his house that you really did need back. You still had the spare key, and you knew he’d be at work until later this evening, so you push yourself out of the tangle of sheets, get dressed and make the drive over. 

Thankfully when you arrive his truck is nowhere to be seen. Definitely at work then. You open the front door, closing it behind you softly. You take a moment when you step in to remember all the times you’d been happy here. The time you’d helped him make Sarah’s birthday cake, or the time you’d snuggled up under the blanket together on the sofa and fallen asleep watching a movie. The time he’d hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter and eaten you out like it was his last meal. Or the time you’d not made it up the stairs and he’d fucked you from behind halfway up the steps. Tears pricked at your eyes. Foolish. Silly Little Girl, thinking he might be the one, just like he’d said. 

You wiped angrily at your eyes and made your way up the stairs to his room, trying to block out the shiver down your spine as you thought of the long nights and lazy mornings you’d spent wrapped up in his bed. You find your duffle bag in the bottom of his wardrobe, you set it on the bed and start pulling clothes from his drawers, shoving them as quickly as you can into the bag. 

You’re setting a bottle of perfume into it when you hear a key in the door. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Of all the days he could come home for lunch, it had to be this one. 

“Sugar?” You hear him tentatively call from downstairs. 

He won’t get the satisfaction, you think, you won't talk to him, just get your things and leave. You hurry to gather the last of your belongings, hoping you can just leave, when you hear his work boots on the stairs.

You’re fighting with the zip on the bag when the door creaks behind you, “Hey, I was calling you.” 

“I heard.” You reply. 

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

You groan in frustration when the zip catches and refuses to move, “What does it look like, Joel?” You hiss, “I’m packing my stuff so I can be outta your hair like you want.” 

“I don’t want that.” Is all he says. 

“Well you’re doing a fucking good impression of it,” You turn to him, “You don’t call me, you don’t message me, you call me a silly little girl, but you want to keep me around?!” 

“Sugar, listen to me,” He’s walking forward, gripping your arms in his hands, “I was angry, and I handled it badly, I’m just-” He falters, “I’m not used to any of this, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I didn’t mean what I said.” 

You look at him and you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes plead with you like they are now. It breaks your heart a little. 

“But you called me a silly little girl Joel,” You whimper, trying hard not to cry, “Everything you said to me hurt.” 

“I know sugar, I know.” He breaths, pulling you into his chest, “I thought if I gave you some time, we’d be able to talk, but I don’t want you to leave,” His lips brush the top of your head in a kiss, “Never want you to leave.” 

You tilt your head and press a kiss to his jawline; it had always felt like home when you were wrapped in his arms. 

“Let me make it up t’ya, sugar.” His hands are roaming down your spine and you can’t resist him anymore. 

You soften into his body, and he takes it as a yes, he tilts your chin up with one of his hands and presses a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and you let out a sigh as you wrap your arms around his neck to mold yourself closer to him. His hands are gripping at the meat of your ass as he’s walking you back towards the bed. Before he lets you fall, he grabs the forgotten bag of your belongings and tosses it to the floor, settling you to sit on the edge of the bed whilst he drops to his knees. 

His hands are pushing the skirt of your dress up to gather at your hips, his mouth leaving trails of hot kisses up one thigh and down the other. Your head drops back, and you let out a sigh when his big hands come to rest on your hips, “Can I take them off, sugar?” He asks, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. 

You look down at him and smirk, “If you want to make it up to me, I’d say it’s pretty essential.” 

He copies your smirk, “Lift up then.” 

You push down on your hands to lift your ass off the bed just enough for him to pull the lace off your skin and down your legs. You set yourself back down on the sheets but opt to stay in your sitting position, shifting your backside as close to the edge as you can without risking falling off, widening your open legs for Joel to see you. 

“God, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He groans, leaning down to press kisses over your mound, but never once dipping low enough to give you relief. 

He knows what you want, your hips are chasing his mouth as they move around to press kisses to everywhere but your pussy. You grumble in frustration when he moves away from you, “You want my mouth on your pussy, sugar?” He asked, looking up at you like the cat that got the cream. 

“I’d have thought that was pretty obvious by now.” 

“I gotta hear you say it, sugar.” 

“Joel-” You moan, reaching out to grab a fistful of his hair, “Please put your mouth on me.”

He responds with a grin from between your legs before he licks one long stripe up the seam of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so slightly through your folds to tease your clit before he’s pulling away, “See what happens when you ask nicely?” 

You’re about to respond with something smart when he uses his fingers to spread your lips to reveal your clit, and then he’s running soft circles on it with the tip of his tongue. A guttural moan drops from your lips and your hips are bucking into his face as he continues his teasing touches with his tongue. His hands are gripping the meat of your thighs and God you want more. 

“Joel-” You moan, gripping his hair again, “Fuck, God alive I need more.” 

He pulls away from your pussy just enough to say, “What do you need, sugar?” Before he’s back to work. 

“Fu-fuck, Joel,” You’re grinding your hips into his mouth, “Fingers, please, I need your fingers.” 

You swear you can feel him smile against you, but one of his hands moves from your thighs and you feel him slip one inside of you. You’re so wet that it’s easy for him, he pulls out and when he’s pushing his fingers back into you, there’s a second, “Oh my god yes just like that.” Is all you can managed to get out. 

He’s being more forceful with his tongue now, switching between the soft teases from the tip of his tongue to full licks with the flat of it and it’s got you on the edge already. When you look down at him it’s like heaven. You can see his tongue teasing your clit and the movement of his shoulder as he pumps his fingers into you. It’s a depraved sight but one that you never want to forget. 

“Can feel you gettin’ tight around my fingers sugar,” He mumbles into your pussy, “You gonna come for me like a good girl?” 

“Yes!” You’re crying out as his fingers curl inside you into just the right spot to have spots clouding your vision, “ohmygod Joel, I’m so fucking close.” 

He knows exactly what to do from here. He’s learnt how to play your body like a fucking fiddle, and he knows it. He’s pressing his fingers so deep into your pussy, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you. Then he wraps his lips over your clit and sucks whilst his tongue is still flicking tight little circles over you, and you’re gone. 

Your head is thrown back and you’re screaming his name. Your pussy is clenching around his fingers and your whole body is convulsing as it washes over you. Joel pulls his fingers from you, and you look down to watch him lick your slick off them before he’s dipping his tongue lower and literally drinking from you. Wide stripes from his tongue from your aching entrance as he cleans up what you’ve given him. 

He pressed kisses to the inside of your thigh, and you can feel your slick on the scratch of his beard, “I really am sorry, sugar.” He says and you laugh. 

“Get up here.” You say, pulling at the neck of his t-shirt. 

He obliges, standing up briefly to kick off his work boots, before he’s gathering you up and placing your head against the pillows. He’s kissing you; you can taste yourself on his tongue as it molds into your own. 

He flops down on the bed next to you and you curl into his side, running your hands down his chest to rest on the bulge of his jeans before a yawn falls from your mouth, “Tired, sugar?” 

You nod, burying your face into his chest, “Not been sleeping.” Is all you offer in explanation. 

He presses a kiss to your temple, “Take a nap.” Is what he says, taking hold of your hand on his groin, wrapping your fingers together to rest on his stomach, “I can wait.” 

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?” You ask, looking up to meet his eyes. 

“I got nowhere else on earth I’d rather be, sugar.” 

#Joel Miller #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fic #joel miller angst #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fan fiction #Joel Miller one shot #The last Of Us #The last of us hbo #TLOU #tlou smut #tlou fic #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller Pedro pascal

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The Deal with Niffty; 1 Year Anniversary

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[Part 2 with Niffty, word count 1446, Cw: bug genocide none]

———————

You counted the days, double checking on the Scenic Hell calendar pinned up in the kitchen. You didn’t mention anything until that evening; Niffty was literally underfoot all day. “Tomorrow will be one year from when you made the deal with Niffty, cher.”

Alastor paused in his nightly routine, counting in his head. “I suppose it is. Ah, how the time flies.”

“We should do something, celebrate a little.”

Your husband gave you a questioning smile in the reflection of your vanity mirror. “We’ve never done that for any other Sinner.”

“We haven’t had any other Sinner chase you for weeks to make a deal,” you pointed out logically. “But she is yours, Alastor, it’s up to you.” He hummed noncommittally as two of you settled in for the night.

In the morning, you woke to a warm buttery smell and the hiss of a hot pan. Alastor, wearing a black apron, was making hotcakes and sausages. Niffty, still dressed in her nightgown and rubbing sleep from her eye, wandered into the kitchen. She spotted Alastor at the stove and immediately skittered up to him.

“Sir! I’m supposed to make breakfast!” She shot up to his shoulder and tugged on one antler.

Alastor, usually despising that much physical contact, merely shrugged and twirled his spatula as dramatically as his cane. “Well my dear, Y/N reminded me it’s been one year since we struck our deal. So I decided we’ll have some fun today.” He plucked the little cyclops of his shoulder and deposited her on the stool next to the table.

She scampered down and climbed back up his side to perch on his head. “Ooo, what kind of fun?” Her grin turned feral as she watched him flip hotcakes.

He finished cooking and delivered both food and the little maid to the table. “We’ll figure that out together.” The three of you started eating before he continued. “So my dear, what would you like to do today?” Alastor asked Niffty as he cut into his sausage.

Niffty, her cheeks full of hotcakes and syrup, froze. Her giant eye pinned as she stared at Alastor. A minute passed, then she gulped down her mouthful of food before automatically shoveling another forkful of hotcakes into her mouth. You realized she probably never really thought about it, enthusiastic as she was about her work.

You savored a bite. “How about…” you mused aloud, “we find more bugs than the bayou has?” Niffty’s attention snapped to you as she smiled around her bite of breakfast.

Fed and caffeinated, the three of you walked to your proposed destination. Niffty traveled three times the distance as she dashed around you and Alastor, occasionally climbing up one of you for a better view.

Your destination was a moderate two story building with two large glass enclosures connected. The sign above the entrance read Infernal Insectorium. Niffty’s eye widened as she started giggling on Alastor’s shoulder.

“Y/N, are you certain of this? Our dear Niffty is sure to decimate the population,” Alastor asked with amusement. “If you want to put this establishment out of business, this is an original way of doing so.”

“Not to worry, cher.” You pulled him inside, paying the entrance fee for the three of you. Niffty climbed down and started to run off, but you snagged her blouse before she could. “This place breeds quite a few critters for various purposes. So much so that they have a special wing for removing the substandard ones.” The foyer led to the two wings; one was labeled Observation Room, the other Culling Room. Through the glass walls to both you could see lush indoor gardens.

You led the way to the Culling Room. There was a small room between the foyer and the garden with a door leading to each. Only one could be open at a time, preventing any insect escapes. There was a member of the staff stationed in the room to operate the doors and ensure the bugs stayed where they were meant to be.

Once inside, you let Niffty go. “Eeeeheheheheheeeee!” she laughed, skittering off the path to chase down her first victim. Alastor walked arm in arm with you, admiring the garden.

“However did this place come about? And how did you find out about it my dear?”

Your talons brushed a flowering vine aside. “Evidently this was originally an insect house, supplying silkworms, beetles and snails for dyes, in addition to the indoor garden. But so many visitors kept eating the insects on display, they decided to add this room and charge for the privilege.”

Niffty’s giggles and mutters of “stab, stab, stab” were joined by other chuckles and squeals as demons hunted down their tiny prey. As you rounded a corner you saw a pair of frog-like demons at a wrought iron table catching flying insects with their tongues while making eyes at each other.

“Quite resourceful,” Alastor commented. He spotted an open bench for you both to relax on as Niffty had her fun. He hummed contentedly, soft jazz music filling the area around him. The tiny cyclops dashed into view on occasion, wielding either her favorite chef’s knife or a needle as she scurried after various bugs. She brought ones she was particularly proud of to pile up on the bench “for her collection.”

Whenever a creepy crawly got too close to you or your husband, it found itself impaled by one of your talons. Depending on the bug, you’d either eat it or add it it a separate pile for someone else to indulge in. Even Niffty had a limit to her energy and after a few hours she plopped herself between the two of you. She sifted through her spoils, selecting her favorite specimens. The rest were added to the pile you made.

After her selection was carefully wrapped in a handkerchief and stowed in your handbag, Alastor decided it was time for a late lunch. Food refilled her well of energy and afterwards Niffty was skipping around him again. “Now then, anything else we should do today Niffty, Y/N?”

“Oh oh, I need supplies to display my collection!” Niffty said eagerly, bouncing rapidly. “This way guys!” She ran back and forth between Alastor and the nearest crossroads. She repeated this after every turn until she brought you all to a craft store. The purple spider demon behind the counter recognized the cyclops. “Long time no see Niffty! Where you been sweets?”

“Hi Cici! I’m working for Alastor now. We’re celebrating my one year anniversary!”

“Greetings! The name’s Alastor and this is my darling Y/N. Pleasure to meet you my dear, quite a pleasure,” he said, holding out his hand to shake.

Cici either recognized your husband’s name or voice. She shook his hand carefully and asked Niffty in a shaky voice, “You…you’re working for the Radio Demon?” Niffty responded with a quick and cheerful “yup!” before dashing down an aisle.

“Yes indeedy! She was quite insistent about working for me. Even after my darling whisked her away multiple times! We found her to be extremely persistent.”

“She wore us down,” you added. “It’s been an excellent decision in the end.”

Cici looked a bit less nervous. “Well, she has always liked bad boys.”

Niffty returned with a stack of items; frames, cloth, pins, and boards. “More shadow boxes sweets?” Cici started tallying things up.

“Uh huh! They took me bug hunting today! I’ve got lots of new friends for my collection,” she replied, her voice turning into a cackle at the end.

Alastor paid for the items and stored the lot in his shadow. “I believe we’ve had quite an enjoyable outing today. What say we head back?”

“‘Kay! Bye Cici, see ya later!” Niffty waved rapidly at her friend while bouncing out the door Alastor was holding for you both. You waved at the spider, saying “au revoir!” as you accepted Alastor’s arm.

Niffty continued to zip around the streets on the way home. But her energy started to flag again. A little over halfway, she started dozing off on Alastor’s shoulder. You scooped her up and placed her in your purse; you’d brought your largest in anticipation of this. Her bright red hair peeked out from the top of the bag.

“It has been a lovely diversion today, I must admit,” Alastor said as the sky began to darken.”

“Agreed. I have to say I’m glad Niffty was so persistent. She’s been an excellent addition to the household. And not just because she’s so willing to do housework.” Alastor didn’t reply, but the cheerful music that swelled as he hummed said enough.

——————

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

#hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin niffty #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #asexual alastor #asexual reader #niffty #fluff #asexual

[pasukiyo]

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | sebastian sallow

sebastian sallow x f!prefect reader note; hogwarts house is entirely up to you except gryffindor oops, reader and sebastian are both in the seventh year 1,302 words warnings; a little bit of a suggestive ending

 “perhaps, if you two are done arguing, it’s best if you return to your common room before i give you detention.”

 the two second year gryffindors jumped and squealed at her presence, the boy on the left nearly toppling over the boy on the right, in which his lips pursed and his eyebrows knit together in a scowl. “damn, prefect,” one of them muttered, and a chuckle bubbled in her chest. “and with that language, you’re lucky i can’t take points from other houses,” she mused. “now, to your common room!” the corners of her own lips curved into an amused smile as the two boys scattered away towards their common room, muttering insults to one another the entire way, sneaking glances back over their shoulder at her, as if to make sure she were still watching. 

 she spun around on her heel and continued further through the corridor, softly humming to a tune she’d heard in london during summer break. the hallways were silent, as they usually were at this time of night, save from the chattering coming from the portraits on the walls. her own shoes clicked against the stone floors and echoed throughout the hallway with each step she took, seemingly the only thing truly alive in the corridors. 

 that was, until she caught a glimpse of a familiar head of brown hair. 

 she gasped and stepped backwards when she saw it, clutching the wall she hid behind and poked her head out just enough to be able to peek at the boy sneaking his way through one of hogwarts’ many hallways. 

 it was none other than sebastian sallow, of course, a slytherin boy in the seventh year, same as she. she pressed her lips together as they curved into an amused grin whilst he turned his head from side to side, making sure his coast was clear. he seemed to have been staring at the wall she had sought shelter behind a moment too long, but if the thought that she, or another prefect, could be behind it crossed his mind, he certainly didn’t act on it. 

 the corner of his lips curled into a small smirk as he deemed it safe to come out of hiding, sauntering away from her, his head a little higher than it was before. laughter bubbled in her chest, and her cheeks grew warm as she suppressed the urge to giggle. she, too, stepped out from her hiding place, an eyebrow cocked as she clasped her hands behind her back. 

 “you’re up well past curfew, sebastian,” her voice permeated the corridor and the slytherin boy halted at once, his shoulders slightly scrunching at the sound of her voice. for a moment, he didn’t move at all, everything silent save for her footsteps drawing closer towards him. at last, he spun around on his heel as she ambled up, her lips a crescent on her face, giving her skin a glow as if it really were the moon itself. “so, what is it this time, hm?” she inquired. “sneaking into the restricted section again?”

 sebastian rolled his eyes at this, but his lips twitched upwards, as if he were suppressing his own urge to smile. “nothing that should concern you,” he replied, in which she cocked an eyebrow, glimpsing down to the prefect badge glimmering proudly on her robes. “nothing that concerns me? me, a prefect, whose job literally concerns what you are doing right now?” she tittered, and he emitted a breathy chuckle, nodding his head. she rolled her eyes, “i’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, sebastian.”

 sebastian threw his head back as he groaned, her name slipping past his lips, gazing back down at her with a more pleading look in his eyes. “oh come on, we like each other, don’t we? so can’t you just forget you ever saw me tonight and act like nothing ever happened?” he tried to reason, and she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks warm at the part where they liked each other. 

 she shuffled an inch closer towards him, her eyes narrowing in a teasing glare. “and risk getting on professor black’s bad side?” she scoffed. “yeah right. do you know how hard i’ve worked to be on his good side? or, at least, his not-so-bad side?”

 sebastian cocked his own eyebrow, “what about me?” he whined, and her teeth caught her lip. how dare he be so adorable? “so if it came down between me or professor black, you’d choose black?”

 she sighed, dramatically heaving her shoulders as she gazed up at the ceiling, as if deep in thought. “mmm,” she hummed, thinking. “well, one could definitely benefit from sucking up to the likes of professor black.”

 sebastian fought his smile as he jut his bottom lip out into a pout, playfully giving her arm a slight push. “you are horrible. absolutely horrible.” her teeth slipped through the cracks of her smile, and sebastian shifted his feet beneath him, the lump at the base of his throat bobbing, his tongue swiping between his lips as his gaze flickered down to her own. she, too, watched his tongue as it wet the soft flesh, and she sunk her teeth into the inside of her cheek. 

 “well, i suppose i can’t let you off the hook,” she sighed. “you know, because i would be jeopardizing my reputation with professor black if i did,” she added, and he rolled his eyes. “yeah, i got that,” he grumbled. she hummed again, her gaze trailing down his body, and when she looked back up to meet his eyes, she could see the beginning of something new, his pupils becoming a backdrop behind the fires of anticipation, flames searing his freckled cheeks. 

 at that moment, their minds were on the same wavelength. 

 she stepped closer until he hovered over her, eclipsing the light emanating from the candelabras. he was close, dangerously close, and when she looked up at him, their lips and noses were almost touching, their breaths mingling with one another. she could hear her heartbeat in her ears and she wondered if sebastian could hear it, just as he wondered if she could hear his. she felt like she could melt in a pool of magma at his feet just by the warmth coming from his body alone. 

 “so perhaps, a detention of my own accord will suffice?” she whispered it, as if someone was nearby, listening in, which was entirely possible at hogwarts. who knew where peeves or any of the other ghosts could be lurking? 

 the flames in sebastian’s irises raged like a wildfire now, and it only took a few missed heartbeats before sebastian’s fingers were linked together with her own, and he was drawing her in even closer than before, his lips pressing against hers for a much anticipated kiss. he leaned back as if he intended to pull away but she wouldn’t let him, leaning herself forward to catch his lips again, and he smiled, in which she returned. sebastian tugged her even closer by the hand, his opposite arm slithering around her waist, his palm pressing against the small of her back to hold her even closer. 

 she kissed him hungrily, much to his satisfaction, as he drank her in as if he hadn’t touched water in weeks. they only pulled away when they needed air, their chests heaving up and down against one another as they drew air back into their chests. they both chuckled as they held each other’s gaze, and once again, sebastian was grasping her hand, backpedaling and dragging her along with him. 

 “i think i know the perfect place where we can have.. detention,” he winked, and she giggled as he turned, picking up his pace as he led her towards the entrance to the undercroft. 

a/n; me? posting two days in a row?? have no idea how i’ve had this much motivation to write but hey, i’m writing!!!

#hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy x reader #wizarding world #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic

[neverchecking]

Ooh, bestie plz. That yandere time piece left me aching with the amount of need I didn't know I had

So I wanna request one more, if that's okay. Yandere Time, once again, but with a breeding kink. And please, feel free to go into explicit detail.

(May and I both personally hc that time has a breeding kink. I literally wrote a whole ass smut piece with a pregnant reader on both her page and mine about this. Same piece, links on both pages lmao)

The amount of horny I am for this man is not okay. Time can bend me over and fuck me like a bitch in heat whenever he wants

...Ahem. Sorry.

I'm gonna be yer 🧚 anon, okay?

omg-

Omg-

OMG YOUR FAIRY ANON?! THE FAIRY ANON?! After you messaged me here I went to May's page and began reading some of her stuff, and every time I came across a 🧚anon post I knew it was going to be good. I just- Drooling, kicking my feet, barking, the whole nine yards.

Anyway, I am absolutely here to please. Time could take me anywhere. There are some pieces that I write and I'm like...Should I share this or keep it to myself? And I gotta admit, that Time one was one of em. The reception to it was just so fantastic and I'm glad everyone liked it. Anyway, I got another Time request around the same time as this one and I just- lightbulb.

Also also, never be sorry Darling. I love to hear all the dirty thoughts. Really gets the writing juices flowing yk? Plus, I get my own 🧚anon? Sign me tf up.

SORRY ANYWAY-

Smut so MDNI. 18+. You asked for explicit detail, so I hope I brought it to the table!

Smut CW: Reader is a little bit of a Yandere themselves, AFAB reader, Subby! Time, breeding Kinks!

Fairy boy

It was hot.

So unbearably hot. Sweat was dripping between every curve of the body he had worked so hard to achieve, leaving behind a misty sheen as his breath fogged in front of him. The air around him was practically smothering, but he couldn't bring himself to care. No, this was a religious experience that he was blessed to experience.

Nothing could ever top this moment. Not anything he had experienced up to this point.

But oh, how willing he was to show his absolute devotion to you, his Goddess, his muse, his star given soul mate. Anything to show your saintly soul that his own was open to you. To take, to shred, to treasure, to obliterate. Anything, and it was yours. He was truly committed to your entire being.

And you knew it to. He knew you knew it from the glares you would shoot inn keepers that fluttered their lashes at him. He knew you knew it from the sharp, venom laced words you would hide behind a sweet, lace lined tone designed to make the other just wilt before you for even thinking of approaching him. He knew you knew it from the dangerous, but ever erotic, gleam in your eyes as you followed the movement of the one waitress that left her hand to linger on his shoulder for a second too long.

And was it ever anoetic.

It was like linking a chain between the two of you with every interaction making it stronger. Reinforcing it with titanium steel only to enhance it with unbreakable enchantments. It was coiled so tightly around the both of yours hearts, like a double headed viper ready to strike any other imposter daring to try and tame the other's rearing serpent. Perhaps there was something unhealthy about it all. but he couldn't find himself to care.

He couldn't even find it in himself to think.

Not when the searing trails of both his cum and your own trailed down his thighs, burning like magma wherever it touched. Not when your own form was bouncing above his own, your own skin polished with sweat as your inner walls, velvet and absolutely piquant (He would know), clung to him, pulsing and squeezing him for everything he had to offer you. Not when his neck and collarbone, littered with bites and hickeys, angled itself mindlessly to give you better access.

Everything about him was positively brainless, nothing but a useless doll for you to use and abuse should you deem it what you want.

But you wouldn't.

You would never dream of hurting him in any way, shape or form. It's what made you so exquisite. You cared for him in a way no one else previously had. Everyone else in his life either left him or was left behind, but you- you had followed him. Clung to him so tightly he had no choice but to be dragged down to whatever depths you fell through to. Not that he would ever let you fall far.

No, he couldn't imagine a life without you. Without your semi-stern glares and light scoldings whenever he gets just a little too reckless in ensuring your safety. Without your gentle hands, cradling his face as you coo at him in that soft voice of yours that he was yours, only yours, and you were his, and nothing, not even the Golden three themselves could pull the two of you apart. Without your smaller frame underneath of him, clinging to his form as he drilled into you, imprinting his every inch onto your being, absolutely ruining you for anyone else.

He knew he was. No one else would ever live up to you. You were beyond words, celestial if it could be something tangible. He knew anyone else chances were all but derelict. Not there ever was a chance for any other possibility.

"Goddess, Link-"

You never called him Time. Never. Besides nicknames, the only other moniker you called him was his name. You called the others by their titles, but not him. You once explained to him that it was because he was more than just a title to you. He was more than just a hero. He was your very reason for pushing on in the morning, for breathing, eating, simply existing in this realm.

He was more than just a title to you.

He was Link, the humble farm boy who was traumatized beyond belief. Who required delicate handling even when he didn't feel he deserved it. Who needed someone to ground him and smooth out his chipped and tattered edges.

He needed you.

Oh, he needed you badly. Even just having you here, cunt squeezing around him as you rolled your head back, hair falling back before you were leaning forward. You laid on his chest, emphasizing the heat around you both, as your forehead landed on his. Your hips never stopped moving, dragging deliciously up his shaft, leaving a milky white sheen in your wake, before slamming back down, a filthy squelch echoing out.

One of his palms, flat and heavy, raised to clap against your ass cheek, making you clench around him as your head fell forward, whimpering into his ear as something wet dripped onto his lap.

You shivered and shuddered, but, gloriously stubborn you, refused to slow even the slightest. He knew what you wanted from him, and he was more than willing to give it to you.

You wanted a baby. His baby. You wanted to carry his child, a piece of the two of you together. You wanted to be tied together for the rest of your lives. You wanted to be the mother of his children.

He could see it now. You all round and barefoot, taking care of the house while he went to work with the knights at the castle or down at the Lon ranch. You, wearing a soft pink apron, as you baked and cooked meals to last the time you would be in recovery because you both knew he was useless in the kitchen. You, who would look downright elegant, despite the strenuous act you just went through, cradling his baby. His baby that would suckle at your teat as you glowed like the angels above came down just to bless this event.

And he craved that.

With a low groan, his arms shot up to wrap around your back as his hips hammered up, pushing right against your own as he plunged in as far as physically possible. He was sure he was kissing the ring of your cervix with how far he was docked within your walls, which throbbed around him. Old loads leaked out around him, making room for the new stuff, as you cried and withered, cumming around him with a cry of his name.

He knew he would go through whatever needed to give you your desired child, and it seemed you thought the same as you sat up, chest heaving in heavy pants, staring down at him. Overstimulation racked his spine, as he was sure it did yours, but he was given a mission. A quest.

And nothing would stop him from completing his quest.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #linkeduniverse #yandere legend of zelda #yandere linked universe x reader #legend of zelda #loz #cindersins #link x reader #yandere time #Yandere time x reader #Yandere lu time #Yandere lu time x reader #lu time #lu time x reader #🧚anon #GUYS #I GOT MY FIRST EMOJI ANON #AND ITS 🧚ANON

[thefallennightmare]

Soo I've been thinking about Matt a lot recently and when you look Matt Dierkes up on tiktok, there are some older videos of him playing the drums and he doesn't have arms, he has ARMS🫠 but, I'd like to request for a headcanon monday something with protective Matt. When I see how he is protective of his friends online, can you imagine how he would be in real life with his gf?🥹 maybe at a show some scene with violent fan or something? I'll leave the plot up to you🥰

Matt's eyes were watching your back intently as you were dealing with throwing a rowdy group of guys out of the venue.

You, along with Ash, helped out as security for Bad Omens shows. Ash gave you extensive training and you'd shown more than once you could handle yourself.

But tonight, as Bad Omens performed, the crowd was insane and causing problems; more specifically, the group of guys that were hanging in front of Matt's sound desk.

"You guys need to leave," you ordered to one of the guys; a tall metalhead male who thought they ran the crowd.

The man snorted. "I'd like to see you try, baby. With those dainty hands, I wouldn't want you to break a nail."

This outburst caused Bad Omens to stop the show and Noah looked on with not only aggravation but a careful eye; since you were his little sister.

Matt was gripping the edge of the sound desk, wanting so badly to get involved but you've stated many times that you could handle yourself.

"The three of you have been drinking all night and I've got you guys multiple times putting your hands on women. You need to leave, now!" You pointed to the exit of the venue.

The tall metal head grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his chest. "Kiss for the road?"

Matt saw red and hopped over the sound desk to rip the guy away from you, shielding you behind his back.

"She's asked you nicely twice. I, on the other hand, won't. Get the fuck out now," Matt sneered.

You peered over Matt's shoulder and placed your hands on his hips, knowing he had a temper sometimes when it came to protecting the ones he loved; especially you, his wife.

The man stepped up to Matt, and suddenly Noah's voice echoed through the speakers.

"I'd suggest you rethink that. Matt isn't a fighter, my younger sister is though and she'll knock you on your ass before you even touch her husband."

Smirking over Matt, you motioned to the rowdy guys. "Consider yourself blacklisted from Bad Omens shows."

Spitting at our feet, the guy with his friends were eventually led out of the crowd by Ash and another guard; the crowd cheered that the show could continue.

Matt spun on his heels to look over you. "Are you alright?"

You bit your lip, remembering the way he literally jumped over the sound desk to come to your aid. It caused a fire low in your gut but you sighed knowing you couldn't do anything about it until after the show.

"Remind me to thank my hero later," you mused while kissing his lips before slipping back into the crowd to return to your post.

#tina talks #headcannon monday #matt dierkes #matt dierkes x reader #matt dierkes headcannon #bad omens

[adiluv]

✦ : ❝ 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 ꒰𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞꒱ !

꒰synopsis—wc꒱ in which your bed is taken and you try to get your roommate to share; 872 words.

꒰warnings꒱ akademiya roommate wanderer, lumine as traveler, reader is not traveler/is from sumeru, barely edited.

꒰adi moment꒱ i cannot stop being haunted by ideas right before i'm about to go to sleep, please send help!! also, doing a bit more experimenting with the titles, so let me know what y'all think! super short drabble, but hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི*ˊ ᵕ ˋ꒱ྀི১

"Need I remind you," comes the chiding of an ever familiar voice, staring you down with dull eyes. "You were the one that oh, so 'graciously' insisted upon giving up your room to the Traveler." A reminder, the Wanderer you've come to call your roommate poking you in the shoulder as those words leave his lips.

He's unimpressed, that much is clear, gaze focused upon the pillow held beneath the crook of your arm. The spare blanket tugged over your body sags, sliding off one of your shoulders, as if cowering away from the figure in front of you. Contrary to his usual tone, there's no sense of mockery inside of his voice, and he looks fully ready to close the door in your face as resign you to your fate.

In fact, he even attempts to do so, only stopping when you quickly jab your foot in the door—despite known fully well that he possesses the strength necessary to simply crush your foot and end the conversation. He doesn't, of course, because you had threatened to tell Lesser Lord Kusanali in retaliation, instead choosing to shoot you a deadpanned glare as you're given another chance to make your case.

You flash an innocent smile. He rolls his eyes, and yours crinkle.

"Well..." You muse, humming as you grip the doorknob and attempt to push further into the space. A gust of wind that would have no natural place being inside of the dorm gently pushes you back, the Vision hanging on his chest providing further confirmation of his manipulation. "The couch is uncomfortable. And cramped. I couldn't possibly have a good rest there."

"I don't see what that has to do with me." And, perhaps the low light is simply playing tricks on your eyes, but you can almost see the ghost of a smile pulling up at the corner of the Wanderer's lips, a barely noticeable glint in his eye as you pout at your misfortune.

"You do realize that she's a hero, right? One that's—quite literally—saved several nations within Teyvat? Including Sumeru? Aren't you Vahumana scholars supposed to care about that?" You decide to ignore the convenient fact that she turned up on the Wanderer's doorstep, acting like old acquaintances, because he'd refused to answer any of your questions on that matter and you were certain that he actually would slam the door on your foot if you decided to bring it up.

Considering the fact that he works beneath the Dendro Archon herself, though, perhaps you should've just come to expect all sorts of mysterious circumstances following him around.

"And yet, a hero of legend couldn't even bring herself to book a hotel room. How kind of you, to be providing such charity to the needy."

Your lips thin as he snickers at the situation, shoulders slumping as you look away. At this point, you wouldn't have been shocked if both the traveler and her companion—Paimon, was it?—had heard your discussion, spoken in hardly hushed whispers with walls thinner than the paper you wrote your reports on.

How they could put up with the man's attitude was still something that eluded you, though you supposed you'd have to ask yourself that question, too.

Whatever. At least you weren't the one being uncourteous.

"Just shut up and let me in already."

Finally, the door swings open, allowing you a direct line of sight into his bedroom. Neat, and sparsely decorated, to the point where one might've assumed it uninhabited at first glance. The ever growing stack of papers and doll sitting directly in front of his pillow were the only real indications of his presence, the only things that convinced you he was real after all.

That, and the insolent personality of his that had absolutely no business staying stuck in your mind all the time.

"Just make sure that you stay on your side of the bed." He mumbles, sharp edge prevailing despite the low volume. You quickly scurry in, closing the door behind you before he has the opportunity to change his mind.

Turns out that you didn't actually follow his orders, if the photos that Paimon snapped of the both of you sleeping together—bodies curled around each other to the point where it was near impossible to decipher who was holding who—were any sort of evidence.

She proudly bragged about them, slamming them on the table with a smug expression as she teased the red-faced 'Hat Guy' sitting right in front of her. Whether or not he was upset or embarrassed, you remained clueless about, though the near white-knuckled grip he held on his butterknife seemed to promise answers. Based on the awkward look on the traveler's face, cold-blooded murder seemed the most likely possibility.

Against your own nosy nature, the role of an innocent bystander seemed far more appealing. At least, with the cup of warm chai in your hands, you could pass off your blush as a reaction to the beverage's heat.

On the bright side, considering the softened look within your dearest roommate's eyes when you'd awoken—before the traveler's companion had burst in asking for breakfast… he might just allow you back into his room the next time your find your bed unavailable.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆ #genshin impact #genshin impact wanderer #genshin impact scaramouche #wanderer genshin #scaramouche genshin #wanderer #scaramouche #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles