#(Curses beneath his breath out of confusion for “WHY!?” but he knows why just why take these measures in the first place)

[maxiwaxipads]

some people put charms around their house like the cross to ward away evil spirits… do you think pikero hangs bargain jeans to keep tuxam away but it only works for a little while until tuxam has gathered the courage to clean up

[kamiversee]

Big ruby shaded eyes, matching that of her father’s, have this adorable thin layer of gloss over them as she pleads with her parent for the millionth time.

“Daddy pwease?” She has the cutest little pout on her face, one that’s worked on her mother time and time again that’s sure to work on her father too—

“No.” Sukuna says yet again.

The child is tired of asking and receiving that same answer over and over. She doesn’t understand one bit why but she hates hearing that word. Folding her arms, she lets out an annoyed puff, “Mommy would never tell me no…”

One statement and there’s already another vein bulging in the right corner of Sukuna Ryomen’s forehead. “Go away, brat.” He breathes out in an overly irritated tone.

The child, unable to take no for an answer and more like her father than she even realizes, takes her foot and brings it down on the curse’s foot in frustration.

If he wasn’t ticked off before, he damn sure is now. “You little—“

“Sukuna,” And there it is, the voice of the sole human in this reality who could ever even dream of cutting the king of curses off mid-sentence. Not only is it you, the mother of his overly insolent child, but you have the nerve to give him that scolding tone he hates (loves).

He scowls for a long moment before looking down to the smaller human who carries more of your features than his. “Fine, child.” Sukuna drawls out after a long roll of his many eyes.

Then, with a big smile plastered all over her small face, her hands are shooting up and she’s making a grab motion with her hands.

Sukuna stares down at her and sighs, “You really are a spoiled brat, y’know…” He grumps while leaning down to pick his daughter up with one out of his two pairs of hands. “…Just like your damn mother.”

The child’s smile fades for a moment and she tilts her head, “Damn?” She repeats in a confused tone, making Sukuna’s heart spike.

“Wait-, don’t… don’t say that.” He’s been down this road one two many times—having taught the child how to say ‘fuck’ the moment she began spewing words. He received an earful from you that he didn’t care for so, here he is now, “That’s a bad word.”

His daughter blinks, “But, Daddy said it.”

Sukuna groans lowly in irritation, “Daddy can say whatever the hell he wants.”

“Hell?” Oh she had to be doing this on purpose, knowing her mother was only a room away.

“Child.” The curse scolds, “Are you trying to irritate me?”

She shrugs playfully, “This is what you get for telling me no.”

“You asked me if you could draw on my face.” He deadpans.

“And you should’ve said yes,” You suddenly chime in, entering the room, “Instead of teaching her more curse words.”

The little girl snickers in Sukuna’s arms and he swears he has an image of the child being flung across the room for just a moment. That image is interrupted by the girl speaking again.

“Like fuck?” She says loud and clear. “I heard Daddy say it again earlier today—“

A big hand goes over her mouth (practically her entire face) and she’s cut off by her father who’s innocently smiling at you, his darling wife.

“Ignore her. I was just about to let her draw on my face so,” He glances down at his daughter who’s giggling victoriously beneath his palm and then sighs, “If you’ll excuse us.”

You’re left smiling at the two as Sukuna turns away with his daughter and exits the room—the sound of them bickering as soon as they’re out of sight heard moments later.

And the next time you lay eyes on the two, Sukuna’s got a face full of stickers and marker and his little mini-me has a mocking face full of her father’s markings. To which you just had to take a million and one pictures of.

[bandgie]

Just Once - Say Yes

werewolf!Chan x fem!reader

warnings! MDNI 18+, biting, very slight blood mentions, PIV, no protection, rut, knotting, fingering, nipple play, reader says it hurts once, breeding mentions, monsterfucking? (I could have done more)

notes! you know im down bad when I get wet from just seeing images of chan like what the fuck?

2.5k words

Chan knows he’s not supposed to be here, yet, that’s exactly where he is. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of his body and in a way he’s not. Your scent fills his nose even through the shut door of your bedroom. You’re sleeping, he figures. He can hear your steady, slow breaths and the gentle snores. 

His feet are planted, head resting on the wooden door as he groans. Chan wants so desperately to wake you up. To softly knock on your door until you answer in the dead of the night. Maybe seeing you will satiate his thirst. Just a glance at your figure can help him - it will be enough, but he’s not thinking rationally right now. He can’t. Not when his rut is at an all-time high. Chan is on top of his suppressors, but his breeding period and the full moon makes for an unbearable combo. 

He knows you will answer no matter how late it is. Chan can easily imagine you opening the door, dazed and confused. He would tell you he’s having a hard time by himself, tell you that he desperately needs your help.

Or maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all. He could just grab your plush hips and pull you into a kiss. Maybe you’d mumble sleepy questions, squeak when his hands find the fat of your ass, but you’d let him. He knows you would. 

That’s why he has to leave. Now. His cock throbs just thinking about how pliant you are for him. He tells himself that he’ll be satisfied with his hand or his fleshight which makes a shitty substitute. Chan knows breeding a human during such an intense time would be too much, too rough for them. As much as his body and wolf beg for you, that sliver of humanity is intact.

So he whines, quiet and high. Chan wills his legs to move, stepping back until he’s no longer pressed against your door. The floorboards creak under his feet with every step. He swears they’re telling him to go back, to bang on your door and pump you until he’s sure you’re knocked up. He really has lost it, convinced that the wood beneath is telling him to screw you.

Unbelievable. 

He’s too busy laughing and fighting with himself to hear you slip out of bed. Chan misses your quiet feet treading to your bedroom door, slowly opening it as you adjust your eyes in the dark. 

“Channie?”

The floorboards must be cursed to sound like you or maybe his rut is just that bad. He tried to brush off your call as him going insane, but the hair on his neck stands and the smell of you is so much stronger. Chan doesn’t want to turn around for your sake. His composure will break and he doesn’t want to imagine what you look like right now. 

“What are you doing out here?” You sound so tired barely coming out of your slumber. Chan doesn’t sense any fear from you, not even worry. You’re far too sleepy to feel anything beyond confusion. The trust you have for your lover, even if he is half beast, is endearing. It makes his heart swell and his stomach turn. He can’t tell if your love for him is naive or pure. Perhaps both.

He’s going to tell you that he’s okay. He just had a bad dream and needed to walk around the house for a bit. It’s not uncommon to see your boyfriend wandering the house late at night; you know how difficult it is for him to sleep. Chan was going to tell you, but he felt your hand wrap around his bicep. You gently tug him until he faces you and what a mistake that is. You’re dressed in a shirt much too big for you, his shirt. It barely goes past your ass and your pebbled nipples poke through the fabric. Your eyes are squinted, lips swollen from sleep. Chan’s eyes are captivated by your human beauty when you say, “Channie, is everything okay?”

No, everything is not okay. Chan’s been fucking into his hand for hours pretending it’s you - he’s knotted into his toy countless times. When he did get the stupid courage to go to your door, he backed away. It’s even worse now his cock is leaking being so close to you.

You should have stayed sleeping.

His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in. There’s no time to question him when Chan presses his lips against yours. Your lover is usually gentle during kisses. He takes time to cup your cheek, to tilt his head so your mouths can better align. If he was really into it, he would suck on your bottom lip only to bite it until you gasped.

He doesn’t kiss you like that now, not even in the slightest. His hands cup your ass just as he imagined. They knead and dig into your flesh, pressing you flush against his crotch. His lips are rough and messy. Your teeth clash almost animalistically and he hears you whine into the kiss. Chan can’t tell if you're whining due to the neediness from his mouth or cock. He knows you can feel his stiffness against your leg. 

Your dainty hands find his chest to gently push at it. Chan’s usually good at reading the room, knowing what to do and when to do it. But this isn’t your Channie. He can’t even feel your fists when he keeps shoving his tongue down your throat. The taste of you is addicting. All he wants to do is feel you from the inside out. To have every part of him connected with you in the most primal way. 

It’s not until you whimper again that he notices. Chan sucks harshly on your tongue before he pulls away with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. His eyes are dazed when he looks at your features. Your face is flushed and your eyes are wide. If you were still asleep before, you’re wide awake now. Chan can tell you’re trying to come up with what to say, but you already know. You can feel his boner on your thigh, you can see the glow in his eyes, and the fact that his body seems thicker, denser. Chan has only let you see him during the end of his rut. He’ll lock himself in his room for days until he’s ready to socialize. You could always hear him on the other side though. How the slick sounds of whatever he’s using are surely filled with cum. If you pressed your ear against the frame, you could hear him softly calling out your name. You wanted to see him so bad. No matter how many times you asked, Chan would turn you down. It’s too dangerous, he’d said. I don't want to hurt you.

But that Chan is nowhere to be found. Instead, you’re faced with the very wolf he’s tried so desperately to keep you from. 

“Sorry,” he already knows what trouble you’ll be in tonight. “Hurts so bad. I can’t take it.” Chan grinds his cock to show you. “Just one knot. Just one I promise.” Ah, a promise. You both know how much Chan loves keeping his promises, but this is one he doesn’t know you’re hoping he’ll break. 

He doesn’t even know why he’s asking. He doesn’t think stopping is possible at this point, but he’d try. Chan is already trying to ignore how his lips ache for yours and stop thinking about how perfectly your body molds into his, but you hold on to him tighter. 

Chan doesn’t hear you say yes with how loud his blood drums in his ears, but he does see you nod. The sultry look in your eyes will do you more harm than good. He doesn't ask twice, doesn’t think twice. He smashes his lips against yours again, walking you back to your room without caring how you trip over your own feet. 

You feel the bed on the back of your knees and Chan rips himself from the kiss. He pushes you on the mattress, quickly crawling over you as one of his hands lifts the shirt to your shoulder. You gasp at how quickly he’s moving. His hot mouth is already latched onto your nipple while his hand dips past your underwear. 

By some magic, you’re already wet. Chan only plays with your clit for seconds before dripping his thick fingers into your heat. Squeals and wet pumps fill the room. Your back arches when he bites on your nipple, tugging the bud and letting go before doing it all over again. Bruises are already forming on your breast and Chan is eager to make your other match. His slick fingers pull from your pussy to tug your underwear down instead.

Your panties hang from one ankle, legs wide as Chan settles between them. The entrance of your cunt slightly gapes from his fingers. No time is wasted as he shrugs his boxers off, eyes never leaving your core. You almost want to close your legs from his staring, but you would miss the view of his cock springing free. 

“Oh shit,” you gawk at his size. Chan’s always been thick, a fat head that always stretches you out just right. But this - this is massive. His rut must make everything bigger. Even the knot that sits at the base of his cock seems triple in size. “Channie, I don’t think- there’s no way in hell you can fit.”

But he’s already stroking himself. Your worries fall on deaf ears when his fat tip touches your clit. He moans at the feeling of your lips around him. He presses his cock so that it grinds against your flesh hard. Your mouth falls open, gaze dropping so you can see him rock against your pussy. 

You think you could cum just like this. His engorged cock provides the perfect veins and ridges for stimulation. Still, your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing. Curiosity is a dangerous thing. It makes you think about what it would feel like to have his raw cock in you. Chan can tell you’re ready for it when you start grinding back, tilting your hips so his tip catches your entrance. 

It’s going to fit - he’ll make sure. Even if you cry and beg for him to slow down, he knows your body will break for him.

And it does just that with the first intrusion. The swell of his cock easily slides into you with a few inches following before he meets the inevitable resistance of your tight cunt. You whine, hands finding purchase on the pillow beneath you. It doesn't hurt, not in the slightest, but you can feel the pressure. Your walls clench and squeeze his girth until he forces himself to pull an inch out.

“Baby, shit,” he breathes. Chan attempts to gain composure through controlled inhales and exhales. “Why are you always so tight?”

Before you can even think about answering his rhetorical question, he thrusts himself deeper. Chan follows his breath, using his airflow as a metronome. In, out, in, out. Deeper, inch by inch, before he sees his knot come to contact with your cunt. 

He’s trying, really trying not to just pin your hands down by your sides and fuck his hips into you. Instead, he keeps his hands at your thighs, but he’s not sure if that’s any better. Chan’s claws dig into your tender flesh leaving marks that nearly split your skin. It must hurt with how hard he’s gripping you but your eyes roll to the back of your head with every thrust. 

Just like he thought, you’re so good to him. Even with your pretty whines and whimpers, you’re still such a good girl for your Channie.

Such a good girl.

It gets to him: your flushed cheeks, your bouncing tits, the moans that tumble from your swollen lips, and how your hands have moved from the pillow to try and grasp onto him instead. You must want more, he reasons. You must with the cream he sees coating his length every time he pulls out. You must with how you’re chanting his name, nearly sobbing it. 

You must with how you make his knot ache, begging to already shove its way inside you and spill. 

Chan can imagine it, he can taste it. It’s such a strong need that he growls, his sharp canines showing from his lips pulled back into an animalistic snarl. Saliva drips down his teeth when he thinks about biting you. Leaving marks on your neck that will only help hold you down while his knot finds its place in your womb. You hardly notice the droll seeping your tummy, too caught up with how harshly Chan is fucking into you.

You do, however, feel how his hips change pace. They get harder, sloppier as if he’s trying to shove that god-forsaken knot into you. 

“Channie!” It’s half-panicked and half-breathless. “Wait! That’s not - hng! I can’t-”

“You can,” he snarls. “And I will.”

Now you can see his teeth that clamp down so hard that his drool is tinted with pink. This is the first time you’ve seen him for what he truly is - a beast. A monster in its purest form with eyes that seem to glow, pitch-black nails that will surely leave marks for weeks, and canines you know can shred you in a second. 

Even with all of that, you know that this man - this wolf - is Channie. Your Channie.

So you don’t whine against him anymore. You don’t try to escape him when he lays his head in between your shoulder and neck to sink his teeth into. You embrace the bite, fully expecting unbearable pain, but instead, it’s blinded by the stretch of his knot in you.

Pleasure and pain intertwine, unable to separate from each other when Chan completely surrounds you. But your body reacts before your brain can. You let out a yelp and scratch your dull nails down his sculpted back. Chan moans into your neck at the feeling, shoving his hips impossibly deeper just to feel you do it again. 

“Sh-shit! Channie! Hurts…” but he doesn’t see your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his seed pumping into you. 

Chan doesn’t reply, can’t reply with how he’s pulled his teeth from you and begun licking your wounds. But he knows. His balls tense and release with every spurt of cum he gives you and you whimper with every pump. 

He’ll apologize in the morning; pamper you and make sure that you’re well rested. He’ll make sure to take care of you real good, especially with the chance of you giving him pups. 

Fuck. He can’t think like that. His cock jumps at the thought and he swears his knot swells all over again. Chan inhales your human scent, reminding him that you’re his priority no matter how much his rut makes him needy to breed. But even in his frenzy state, he doesn’t dare to tell you knotting can last up to 30 minutes.

[venusstorm]

𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐒𝐢𝐫

Declan O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: Declan's assistant is hurt and confused by his sudden departure from Corinium. Upon a visit to his home, feelings unfold and truths become known.

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, pet names, daddy kink, spit kink, bathtub sex, breeding, mentions of reader having hair, claw marks, and bruises, finger fucking, choking, gagging, kissing, spanking, adultery

w/c: 3393

‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧ ‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧ ‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧ ‥∵

"Where the hell is Declan!" You burst through the doors of the O'Hara household, loud and furious. You didn't buy the "He’s sick" claim for a moment, no matter how often Baddingham kept spewing the lie out of his mouth. And when you questioned his truthfulness, he sent you down the hall to Vereker's office, alerting you that you would no longer be Declan’s assistant. 

But you'd pull every last strand of hair from your head if you had to spend another second working for that asshole. And when that's gone, you'd start on your legs and then your arms, and perhaps a few eyelashes too. You ignored Tony's shouts as you left the office building searching for your true boss.

Which led you speeding through town, barreling through the countryside until you arrived at Declan’s grand estate. You banged on the door and when you were met with silence, your hands wrapped around the handle, pleasantly surprised when the door opened wide. 

Without hesitation, you stride through the foyer and march up the staircase. The long corridor witnessed you shout his name, scanning every room until you find his office. The doors cracked open which obviously means he’s welcoming you right in. 

"Declan! I swear to–" but his chair sits empty. A slew of papers and empty liquor bottles covered the surface. You squint your eyes in pure annoyance. If he's the reason you spend the rest of your week drowning out Verekers moans by fiddling your ears and banging your head against the desk, then he's in for it.

You sigh heavily as you turn around, heading for your next best guess. You envisioned him sneaking out drunkenly to a pub. Probably annoying the hell out of the bartenders because after his third drink, the man can’t shut the hell up. Or perhaps he's thrown himself into the woods to get eaten by wolves. You knew Declan, and when he hit rock bottom he crashed hard.

"That little shite doesn't know a goddamn thing."

The slurred words of Declan O'Hara ring through your ears. Like a siren call, you follow. He curses a fit of words, not once taking a breather. You follow the crude sounds until you reach another door. You don't bother knocking, he's far past the courtesy. 

"Found me," he slurs.

"Oh, for fucks sake, Declan!" You shield your eyes from the obscene view. He sits in a bathtub, legs sprawled open with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. A bottle of beer is held tightly in his grasp and he doesn't seem to have any plans to let go of it.

"I didn't tell you to come in here" he grumbles. "Heard yer stomps from a mile away."

"Well, I was worried. And also pissed you left me with that blonde-haired devil. He fucks like a rabbit and not in a good way. Wouldn't be surprised if he catches a damn itch."

Declan scoffs. "He’s already infested."

Your hands remain shielding your vision, leaving you blind to the way he stares off into space, taking the final swig of his drink and muttering beneath his breath. 

"Just come back please." You sigh.

The sound of glass clanking and rolling to the ground echoed around the bathroom. You jump from the sudden noise, tightening your hand around your vision. He rolls his eyes while delivering a mocking laugh.

"Hand me another bottle o'er there and I'll consider."

You stand firmly, scowling at his impossible behavior. 

“Standin’ there won’t help, darlin’. Don’t know why you’re tryin’.” He exhales a cloud of smoke, the scent wafting towards your nose and meshing with the woodland scent of his bath soap. 

“Just tell me where to walk” you quip. 

Declan’s eyes dart towards you, his lips curling into an amused grin. “Y'might need to be able to see for that.”

You shake your head in defiance, “Just tell me where to walk.”

He’s no longer interested in the shitty beer he kept hidden in the bathroom. Instead, he focuses on how easily you fall into line for him. 

"Go to the right."

You follow his command, stepping to the right without hesitation. 

"Now go straight about five steps."  You don’t question his directions, placing your full trust in his judgment. 

"Yes, Sir." You do as you’re told, taking five small steps and pausing. "Now what?"

He groans softly at your admission, his length stirring as you patiently wait for his next directions. Your tone unleashed fantasies he kept hidden within the depths of his mind and if you stayed for another moment, he’d happily release every last one. 

There's a moment of silence before he continues. "To the right once more and you've got it."

You blindly reach your hands outward but defeatedly grasp open air. "Declan? I don't feel it."

"Bend down a little, it's on the second shelf."

His eyes widen as the hilt of your skirt rises against your ass, revealing the lace garters decorating your legs. He takes a long drag, watching shamelessly as you shimmy to adjust the length, struggling to do so single-handedly.

Finally, you touch the slim neck of a glass bottle. "Oh! I found it!" You giggle excitedly.

Declan smirks. "Atta girl."

If you weren't too busy shielding your eyes from the outside world, you'd notice the way Declan scans your body. His gaze dropped from your face to the white blouse you wore. Half the buttons were undone but it wasn't like you could check. You stood in front of him like a temptress, all precaution flying out the window the moment he heard your soft laughter.

"Now how do I get back?"

He laughs breathlessly. "Same way you came."

"Uh okay." You attempt to retrace your steps. Mouthing his previous directions aloud until you're semi-close to the door.

"Now walk forward a few steps" he ushers.

You nod, walking carefully toward the sound of his voice. His eyebrows furrow with mischief as you approach, your steps growing wider and far too close to the edge.

The next sequence of events occurs in a blur. You tumble forward and the water splashes over the edge, coating the tiled floors as you fall into the bathtub. You squeal as the hot water warms your body, soaking your attire and revealing everything underneath to Declan's eyes.

"Asshole!" You shout. You attempt to stand only to wind up slipping and falling right back into place.

He presses his cigarette butt against an ashtray before grabbing your arms. He steadies you, dragging your body up against his with ease.

"And that's why we don't walk with our eyes closed."

"You didn't tell me to stop!" You're so enthralled in fury and he can't help but to revel in it. He can only smile as you curse, attempting once again to stand before accepting defeat.

"How much goddamn soap did you put in here!" You shake your head with bitter laughter. You lay back against him, your heart racing out of your chest as his arms find themselves on your waist.

An evident shift in mood affects the room. "Why won't you look at me?" He questions.

"Simple. You piss me off."

You shut your eyes even tighter, ignoring the way his length ghosted across your stomach. His chest hair was surprisingly soft, pillowing your head and causing your heart to beat a skip faster. You stay quiet as his hands drift away from your waist and towards your thighs, forcefully gripping them and dragging you closer to him.

"Then why'd you come here?" He retorts rather quickly.

"Tony. I'm sick of being ordered around by him."

Declan hums. "You didn't seem to have a problem taking orders a few seconds ago."

You whimper as he palms your ass, kneading it roughly. You place your hands against his chest, fighting the desire to give in.

“That’s different. I was helping a friend.”

His lips broaden into a smile at your select choice of word. “Friend?”

“Yes, Delcan. You’re my friend but clearly you could care less.”

He doesn't miss the bitterness in your tone. There was a hint of resentment that clouded your features. He saw it in the way you turned your head further away, limbs tensing against his touch.

"I care," he reassures.

"But you left me.” The vulnerable words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. “You caused complete chaos and rightfully so but you left without a word. I know I’m your assistant but I care about you, Declan. You always said we’d get out of that shitshow together and you left me.”

Truthfully, you grew attached to him, infatuated with a man whose brain met the greatness of his kindness. An unrequited love. You knew it was impossible for him to feel the same way but witnessing him leave without a word solidified your fears. You were merely his subordinate and nothing more. 

Your disappointment reaches your tear ducts and unshed tears of despair begin to descend your cheeks. Declan doesn't hesitate to wipe them away, his thumbs swiping across your skin in comforting movements. 

"There ya' go, darlin'. It's okay to be upset. I deserve it."

“Did you forget about me that quickly? You hadn’t even called.” You burrow your head into the crevice of his arm, still unwilling to face him. 

Forget? 

How could he forget when thoughts of you ran rampant in his head? He wasn’t one to take orders but anything you said rendered him defenseless. Despite being your superior it often felt as if he was learning from you. He’d do whatever you wanted without question. 

He spent nights thinking of you, his hand wrapped around his aching size as he dared not to wake his sleeping wife. Muffling his moans, he thought of how you’d look in her place. How he’d tilt your head backward, kissing you languidly while pushing past your folds. He envisioned your sensual tone calling out his name, begging him to push harder, deeper, to which he’d obey. Following your every command because that’s all he craved to do. Gritting his teeth, clenching the satin sheets until he dreamt of filling you with his seed, no longer caring if his wife heard him murmur your name. 

“I could never forget you.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that shutters your core. 

Slowly you break free from your darkened corner, at last meeting his heated gaze. He stares at you with pure desire, eyes dark and glimmering with something farther than lust.

You take in his naked form, staring at the dark hair that danced down his stomach and covered his shaft. Water dripped from his hair, his typically sleek curls jostled and free. You couldn’t see what lay beneath his waist but you felt his heaviness against your stomach, throbbing with unmet need.

“You’re drunk” you rebuttal weakly. 

He shakes his head, “M’perfectly fine.” He sobered the moment reality hit that your body was laid against his. 

He waits for your next argument but it never arrives. The two of you stare in silence, subdued desires coming to light. Slowly you begin unbuttoning your blouse, stripping the wet cloth from your shoulders and tossing it onto the mat. Declan assists you wordlessly, his hands pulling down your skirt before reaching to unclasp your bra. He takes in this moment. Kissing your skin every time another item is removed until you sit exposed before him.

His hand caresses the back of your head, drawing you close enough for your lips to graze. “Tell me to stop and I will.” 

You nod, stopping the furthest thing from your mind. 

“I need words, darlin’. Are you okay with this?”

“I’m okay, Declan. Just…” Your brain turns into a foggy haze as you search for what you’d like to say. He grips your jaw, tilting it upwards to better meet your gaze. 

“Just, what? It’s okay. I won’t be mad.” 

You can’t seem to formulate the words to describe how you felt. His touch overwhelmed you in the best way possible. The fresh scent of his skin drowned your senses and feeling your most intimate parts glide against him took the entirety of your focus. 

“I just need you.” Your soft tone stirs something animalistic inside of him. Without another wasted second his lips meet yours. It starts impulsively rabid, his tongue wrapping around yours while he pushes your head further into him. He groans into your mouth, eyelids fluttering closed as he gets lost in your taste. But then he goes slower, savoring the way your hips begin to grind into him as your kiss grows messy. Saliva drips from the corners of your mouth until he drags his lips back over them.

Calling him desperate would be an understatement.

He pulls away regretfully, brushing the pads of his thumbs over your lips to clean his mess. You whine from the loss of connection, lips still parted and demanding him for more. 

Declan chuckles, granting your wish and delving into your mouth once more. Your hips rock against him, willing his length to rise. The water sloshes back and forth as you grind against his stomach, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest eagerly. Your hand rests against his unshorn chest hair, envisioning gliding your wet cunt over it until he’s drenched. 

“That’s it, darlin’. Use me.” He moans into your mouth, uncaring of how loud he was being.

“Hurts” you whimper. He pulls away once again, his hands finding yours beneath the water and directing them towards your heat. You jolt as his fingers graze your aching clit, “This what hurts, baby?” he hums. You nod, directing his fingers toward your puffy folds. 

He tsks, “I think that’s your job, darlin’.” You hadn’t quite understood what he meant until you felt him direct your fingers inside yourself. Your face contorts with pleasure as you shove them inside without question, using his chest as leverage while you ride. Declan watches you carefully before sliding his fingers back against your clit, pressing it roughly.

“Your pretty button’s so swollen. Just wanna make it feel better.” He rubs small circles around your clit, slapping it roughly when he notices your eyes rolling backward.

“Look at me when you play with your pretty cunt.” Declan ignores the way his cock jolts against his skin, desperate to be buried inside of you. All he cared about at this moment was your pleasure, physically reassuring your place in his world. 

“M’gonna cum” you whine.  

You say his name continuously as he continues to toy with your clit, tugging and slapping it until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Declan wraps you in a confining hug as you shake against him, his hands rubbing the back of your neck as he talks you through your orgasm. You nuzzle into his chest, allowing his huge frame to provide you comfort. “D-” Your tongue teeters on the line of murmuring a word you knew you mustn’t say.

“Did so good for me, baby. That’s it, I’ve got you. Just ride it out, I’m right here for you.”

But your mind slips and the word comes flowing from your lips. “Daddy.” It was hardly above a whisper but Declan caught it nonetheless. He watches you curl into him, a level of trust in your actions that he knew he had to maintain forever. 

You’re shaken from your haze as Declan taps his length against your cunt, a newfound look of pure hunger darkening his gaze. 

Pre-cum drips down his length, the water washing away any evidence of his sin. He rubs his reddened tip against your folds, groaning loudly as you spread your thighs wider for him. 

He drags you onto his cock, holding you upwards as you take his size. Your moans blend into one continuous sound as he fills you, stretching your walls as you claw at his back. 

“C’mon baby, know you can take more, can you do that for me?”

You shiver as you allow yourself to bottom out against him, muffling a scream as he breaches you entirely. His eyes roll as he embraces your warmth, his arousal growing heavier. He stares down at where the two of you connect, your walls choking his cock and leaking downwards.

A wave of adoration washes over him before it becomes tainted with angry realizations. You sat beneath him, his perfect match. Someone who balanced him, calmed him, put up with him. And yet, he’s had to push his feelings away in the name of not causing a stir. 

He’s angry that he’s trapped in a loveless marriage riddled with infidelity and fueled by his income. Trapped in this goddamn house that he could care less about. Angry that Tony dangled his career in front of him like a chew toy. And most of all he was livid that you weren’t the one sleeping next to him every night. 

Declan shoves his hips forward, bouncing you on his length. “So fucking tight” he grits through his teeth. You clench around him, your wetness welcoming him even further. The noises were obscene, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as your pussy squelched. He revels in it, fingers finding your sweet lips to shove them in between.

You witness the furrow in his eyebrows and undoubtable frustration. You meet his gaze, lips wrapping around his fingers and sucking. You take them deeper until they’re practically shoved down your throat. 

“Should’ve known you’d be a fucking slut. You like this, don’t you? Bet you wish you were choking down my cock instead.”

“Uh huh,” you whine. You’d thought about it all the time. When he’d arrive to work angry, sitting at his desk with a pout. How you’d wanted to sink to your knees beneath him, hiding beneath his desk while you slid him down your throat. Muffling your gags as he answered the phone while stroking your hair.

He hooks into your cheek, widening your mouth so he can spit into it. He taps you, commanding you to swallow to which you happily oblige. You shake against him, tits bouncing freely. He grips onto them, slapping your sensitive nipples until they pebble in his fingertips. 

“How does it feel, baby? You like being stretched out? Can barely keep your eyes open, can you?”

Pressing against your womb, Declan feels his length shatter your walls. He watches you fall into his broad chest, clutching onto his back while he holds you closely. 

“Feels so good, daddy.” You whimper. 

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s got you. Gonna be my little cock whore amn’t ya? Surprised your little cunt could even fit. Just shows you're perfect for me, hm?”

“M’hm, perfect” you repeat.

He knows you're close, he feels it when your nails dig into his skin. Surely leaving marks that he wouldn’t feel the need to hide. 

“You need to cum, don’t you, baby? It’s okay, nobody’s here. Just us. Let go for me, let Daddy feel you.” His pace becomes slower, pounding into you with deep thrusts.

Your vision blurs as you reach your high, shouting Declan’s name as you gush around him. He follows suit, your pulsating walls unleashing his heavy orgasm. He doesn’t relent as he shoots his load into you, locking you down as he fills you with his seed. He could care less about the consequences, nothing else mattered at the moment.

He captures your lips in his, taking short breaths to whisper how good you were for him. He suckles on your collarbone, leaving definite bruises to match the claw marks you undoubtedly left on his back. 

“Let’s get you dry” he murmurs. 

You nod, too tired to reply or move. Declan slides out of you, saddened by the loss of connection. He carries you out of the bathtub, his spend dripping from your pussy and leaking onto his leg. He clenches his jaw, fighting the desire to fuck it right back into you.

He wraps you in a towel, drying your skin before taking you into his bedroom. He sits you on the bed while he scourers his closet for something you could wear. Landing on an old college shirt that he refused to throw out. 

As he slides it onto your body, he presses his lips against your forehead. A million words silently transcribe between the two of you. He’s unsure of what the future holds but he’s certain that you belong in his.

[thefandomthings]

Zuko x reader

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Betrayal

Hurt prompt #11: "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Pairing: Zuko x F/Gn!reader

Warnings: Angst, No comfort, Established relationship, !!SPOILERS¡¡, Takes place in Book 2. Ep. 18

Notes: Oh boy, I have so many avatar requests, it's amazing. Thank you guys for participating in my event it makes me so happy! Tell me if y'all want a part 2.

Prompt Event Part 1 Part 2

All you felt was pain, deep inside your chest. Watching your boyfriend take sides against the avatar once again was brutal. What made it even worse was Iroh was to be imprisoned, you would hold the same fate if you were captured.

You stood next to Katara and Aang, Azula and Zuko on the opposite side of the cave. Azula held the same malicious grin on her face, watching the three of you with smugness.

"My, my Y/n. You seem so down, how sad." She mocks you with a slight chuckle. Zuko gives her a glare, his eyes wandering back to you. They are full of guilt, pleading for forgiveness from you. Practically begging you to understand why he did it, to come with him.

"Leave Y/n alone, Azula." Zuko grunts, getting in a fighting stance with his sister. Azula clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes at her brother.

"They're the enemy now, Zuzu. Can't protect them forever." Azula laughs, blue fire erupting from her fists.

The blue flurries of fire woosh past you fastly. Katara quickly blocks the fire with her water. Using her octopus arms she slashes and whips at Azula, both going back and forth. The ground beneath the five of you shakes and cracks.

Aang and Zuko are going at it hand to hand. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Zuko takes a hit by Aangs wind, sending him flying back into one of the crystal pillars. Your heart stops, skipping a beat as Zuko groans.

You curse under your breath and run towards him, Aang is calling your name frantically. You slid against the rock surface and get the few rocks that landed on Zuko off. He lets out a huff of air, the weight of the rock off of his chest allowing him to breath.

He's quick to sit up, using his hands, he does a walk over away from you. Your heart felt like it was stabbed, watching as he gets in a protective stance. He knows you'd never hurt him on purpose, and he'd never hurt you.

"Why are you doing this, Zuko? Why are you so desperate to gain your honor back?" Your voice is meek, tears gathering at your waterline, blurring his figure.

"You know why I have to, Y/n. This is my chance to prove to my father I am worthy."

Zukos heart physically aches, seeing your tears making him question everything. He never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to put strain on your relationship. You're his everything, you've been with him since the beginning along with Iroh. Loving him even when he didn't love himself.

"But Zuko, when you get home and see your father, will he even except you? What if he hurts you again, or what if he tries to kill you?" You plead, knowing this isn't him. He's just confused and fighting himself.

Zuko stays quiet, thinking over your words carefully. You have a point. His father could easily do all of those things, Azula to. Does he really want to go through with this? Having Uncle imprisoned, possibly you too?

He closes his eyes tightly, fists clenched at his side. He lets out a long breath, salty tears slide down his cheeks as he looks back up at you again.

"He won't. I'm sorry Y/n. You can't change my mind. I'm going home." He lifts his fists back into a defensive stance, hands trembling.

"Please...Please forgive me."

You let out a strangled sob at his words, heart clenching and shattering. Zuko grits his teeth, holding back his own cries.

"Get out of here, before Azula realizes I haven't killed you." Without realizing it, Zuko was beside you. Taking you into his arms, he holds you as close as he can. His lips pressing multiple kisses to your head. His nose buried in your hair, taking in your shampoo scent one last time.

"Does this mean you don't love me anymore? Since you're leaving?" You asked, face hidden in his neck, tears hitting his skin like rain. Zuko squeezes you softly, kissing the apples of your cheeks.

"That not what I meant, Y/n. And you know it." He pulls away from you, taking a few steps back to create distance.

Water then wraps around his waist sending him flying. You scream his name as Katara takes you in her arms. You sob holding onto Katara as she sees you down.

"It'll be alright, Y/n. I promise." She hugs you tightly, the sound of wind echos in the cave as Aang enters the avatar state. Suddenly lighting cracks, blue electricity shoots towards Aang. Shooting into his back like a spear.

"AANG!" You and Katara race towards him, watching as he falls, his body is lifeless. Katara catches him, tears falling from her eyes. You use your bending to keep the three of you protected as Katara holds Aang and bends up the waterfall.

Zuko watches as the love of his life disappears. He lets out a sob, his fist pounding the ground.

He's sorry. So, so sorry. He never wanted to hurt you, cause you this much pain. Yet he has, and he might never, ever be able to fix it.

He hopes you're safe, and he'll come and find you when the time is right before it's to late.

[clare-875]

Not You (Levi x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Female Reader Summary: Levi has a nightmare that he loses you and he doesn't handle it well Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Descriptions of blood and death, Reverse comfort [AOT Masterlist] _____

It was one scream. Piercing and sharp as it rang through the air, but Levi knew instantly who it was. His heart rate picks up, pure panic reaching the depths of his mind, prompting the movement of his body as he runs. His eyes dart around him but all he sees is darkness. Where were you? Another scream echoes through space threatening hysteria. His body moves, it had come from his right. He runs faster, sweat drenching his form. His limbs are heavy, as though he trudged through mud. His mind was pacing, pushing away the thoughts of the worst. He curses the way he seems to have forgotten something as simple as movement as it feels like eons until he catches a glimpse of a struggling shadow. His breath gets caught in his throat, his feet now stuck to the ground by some invisible chain that he can't wretch free of. His heart races so fast he can now scarcely breathe and he doesn't know how to escape the oncoming terror.

"LEVI!!" Your voice is shrill pushing through the restraints of your panic and pain. It seeps through the sobs that rake through your body, it drips with fear and dread, just like the blood that pours from you. Crimson adorns your figure; it's all Levi can see. It falls from your hands that try to pry away from the Titan you are in the hold of, it falls from your temple seeping into the white of your eyes, it breaks from your skin under the weight of its hold. Your gaze is frantic, panic-driven; it's horror. "[y-y/n]?" Levi's voice is lost in the phobia that fills him. His breath shakes and stutters as he tries to move, but again he fails. Why why why why. It's all that fills him, the same words on his mind. Why were you here? Why were you dying; he had sworn to keep you safe. Why can't he move? "L-LEVI, PLEASE-!!" Your voice is helpless under the weight of your oncoming demise as it pleads him to move. He tries. He has never tried so hard to get his slack limbs to move as much as he did now. He tries to push against the agony and restraint and yet nothing.

"[Y-Y/N]!!"

His voice is a roar across space as your eyes look at him in pure devastation. "W-why, why won't you save me?" Levi's heart drops to the floor at your utter devastation and the sobs that lace your words. The heavy feeling of your voiced disappointment churns in his chest. No. "I-" Levi tries to speak once more but now it feels as though the restraints on his form have gagged him of speech. No. God please no. "You said you'd save me, you promised-" Your voice is interrupted by another agonising scream that has Levi losing his mind. He struggles to connect his mind to his body and yet no matter how much he cries in silence there is no movement. Levi feels hot tears of pure panic reach the rims of his eyes, threatening to break free as he bears witness to the series of events he has seen too often in his life. But not you, please not you. "L-Levi," His eyes are forced upon a sight he wished he died before he'd see. The Titan evidently has had enough of its malice as it squeezes hard against your form, causing your body to collapse under the hold. In the silence the final wheeze of your voice, "Save me."

Levi's gasps are erratic as his eyes shoot open meeting darkness. His confused state is dangerously out of control as he grasps at the bed sheets beneath him for stability, squeezing them so tight he almost tears it. His mind reels trying to catch up to reality, but the events of what has happened in his mind are still eerily sure in his head. He tries to control his hysteric state, pushing his hands into his face breathing shortly before trying to slow them down. Was it real? Please no. No no no no... Levi's hand has never darted so quickly to the figure that should be beside him; beside him asleep. Only, his hand meets a coolness that has his heart jolting harshly in his chest. His eyes dart to his side, gaze wide, mind frantic. When he sees that no one is there, that you aren't there, that's when he loses it, he is lost in hysteria.

Levi flies out from his bed unstable, eyes darting in the darkness of the room. His voice is lost within him out of fear at the lack of response he might find. He turns on the lamps in the room to see the empty space around him, he moves quick across your shared bedroom ripping open doors and racing across space. "[y-y/n]" His voice is breathless, barely heard as he unsteadily rushes across the rooms. He checks the office, he checks the bathroom, he checks every crevice no matter how stupid it might be. He needs to. He needs you to be alive; to be here. "[y/n]!" His voice is louder now but is met with silence. The only response that reaches him now is the dwindling remembrance of your voice; your words. "You promised me." Levi shakes his head, hand raking through his locks harshly. "Please." Levi goes for the door handle, intent on ripping apart headquarters to find you, to prove he hadn't failed you. "Save me." Tears threaten him as he goes to open the door only for it to open abruptly.

It revealed you.

You look up in surprise, having got yourself something quick to drink in the middle of the night from the kitchen. It had been a long internal debate; you knowing the effects of PTSD upon both of you. It brought horrendous nightmares, ones that had you questioning your reality; your sanity. But Levi had finally seemed to be asleep long and well enough for you to slip briefly from the bed beside him so you could quench your thirst. Evidently, you were wrong. Levi looks at you in shock, rigid form and tears lingering in his eyes. He looks tense, more than you have ever seen; as though one wrong move might cause devastation. You find yourself rigid as your eyes turn behind him to where the room you had left is now pulled apart as though there was a struggle. Your gaze meets your lover once more as your mind connects the dots.

You move forward hesitantly. "Levi?" He turns to you then, finally breaking free of the turmoil he had faced in such a short period of time. You move forward seeing the shock, the dread, the relief pouring from him. You reach out gently and he instantly responds to your touch as you hold him against you and he puts his arms tight around your form. His hands shake subtly but his embrace is taut and you let him be. He lets himself breathe. He lets himself catch up to reality. He begs to whatever being is up there, that they don't take you away from him. You stay there for long moments, him just matching your breathing, inhaling your sweet scent and losing himself in the soft caress of your touch. Him, gripping onto his sanity.

"Levi?" You say softly once you have stayed in his tight embrace for several long moments. You feel his limbs slowly start to slack as he releases you of his form, but barely lets you an inch out of his grasp. "Are you okay?" Levi can barely look up to you as you meet his shadowed gaze. "I'm sorry, I just went to get something to drink. I didn't think- What happened?" Levi's hand is within your own as you squeeze it gently, hoping to provide some comfort to his blatant pain. Levi's voice shakes but drips of grief and exhaustion as he speaks to you. "Just don't- don't die... not you." You look up at his defeated form, so uncharacteristically vulnerable, so utterly embodied by the emotions you know he tries so hard to hide. You pull him to the couch in the room as you sit beside each other. "I won't."

The both of you know that there was no truth to your words. Anyone could die when beyond the walls; it seemed death would come even when you were within them. But Levi allowed the contentment of your words to seep within him. He allowed your hands to gently caress his raven locks and allowed the warmth of your body to bring him back to his reality. He pushed away the lingering words you spoke to him in the depths of his dreams: the disappointment, the echoing screams. He never told you all of what happened in his nightmare but you could guess well enough. You found all the answers you would need in the way he muttered under his breath until the morning sun shone past the far-off horizon.

"Not you..."

[pandorxxx]

Uninteresting?

Neteyam (20) x Omatikayan fem reader (18)

Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, p in v, pinning, cursing, creampie, praise kink.

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

You weren’t the most popular. In fact, you weren’t popular at all, and it was mainly because you never talked. If someone showed any interest in talking to you, it was usually to get intel on your older brother. Your older brother, Ralu was one of the best hunters in the clan. He was sought after by many women, second to Neteyam of course.

Even the girls you called your friends, would only ask you about Ralu, and then leave. It hurt your feelings that no one really cared about you, or how YOU were doing. And today was no different…

“Y/n, keep up!” Nat’iyah yelled as she walked deeper into the forest. Her other friends, Si’rah and feima laughed as they watched you scramble to keep up with them, visibly exhausted.

“G-guys…please, wait up.” You panted, trying desperately to catch them.

“You’re going to make a horrible hunter one day, y/n.” Feima laughed, looking back at you with a sarcastic grin. They finally stopped in the middle of the forest, sitting down on the soft moss. You plopped down next to them, as sweat dripped down your face. They were all laughing, watching you catch your breath.

“Soooo, y/n” Si’rah started, looking at the other girls with a sadistic grin.

“How’s Ralu?” She continued, staring into your eyes with a bright smile. You titled your head at her with confusion. Why was she asking about your brother, when you came out here just to train with them?

“Umm, he’s fine.” you trailed out, scratching your head in confusion before playing with the moss beneath you. Feima and Nat’iyah shot Si’rah a death stare, before nudging her to get you to spill about your brother. She looked back at you with a sarcastic grin.

“Well, is he mated with anyone yet?” She asked, touching your shoulder to grab your attention. You slowly looked up at her, and then at her hand on your shoulder before pulling away from her touch.

“Did you just bring me out here to talk about my brother? You told me you would train me!” You shout, pursing your lips. Si’rah looked back at the other girls, and they all chuckled.

“Listen y/n” Si’rah started with an obnoxious sigh.

“Your brother is hot, and I just want the scoop. If anyone is ever trying to talk to you randomly, they just want to know about Ralu. You’re just….not all that interesting.” She laughs, making the other girls chuckle. You felt your heart crash and burn into your stomach. You bit your tongue as you held back tears, face burning hot.

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell your brother about this, and that’s fine. There’s always Neteyam. He was my second choice anyway.” Si’rah giggle before standing up as the two girls follow. Their necks snapped in the direction of the tall trees, hearing footsteps. Out comes Neteyam, in all of his glory. He was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny that, but he was your older brothers best friend. What would he see in you, when there were girls like Si’rah around.

“Speaking of the fucking devil.” She whispered to the other girls, eyeing him up and down before walking towards him, slowly.

“Heyyy neteyam” she muttered seductively, circling him like prey.

“Hey Si’rah..” he whispered, grabbing her arm tightly. He eyed her up and down licking his lips. She grinned up at him, trailing her hand down his abs.

“Come see me later.” She bit her lip, walking away as her minions followed. He turned all the way around, watching her sway her hips as she walked away.

“God, that girl is such a slut.” He whispered to himself shaking his head before turning to see you, sitting on the ground with your head down. He walked over, sitting next to you.

“How are you, y/n?” He asked, nudging your shoulder with his to get your attention.

“Fine.” You sniffle, still looking down at the ground as you played with the moss.

Fine. That’s all you ever said. Even though him and your brother were very close, he felt like he barely knew you, because you never talked. He sighed, before looking around the forest.

“Do you want to talk about it.” He grinned sarcastically expecting you to say no, but to his surprise, you broke down in tears. His eyes widened at your sudden burst of emotion.

“Everyone hates me, Neteyam! They only care about Ralu.” You sniffle, as tears flow down your face. He watched you with a sad expression before pulling your head to his lap. He looked into the sky, pursing his lips as you weeped in his lap.

“What happened, y/n” he asked angrily, ready to rip everyone apart for you.

“Si’rah! She’s such a bitch! She told me that she would train me today, but all she did was drilled me about Ralu.” You started and neteyams eyes widened.

Wow, she really is a slut, Neteyam thought.

He caressed your shoulder, leaning down to see your face. “What else happened? I know that’s not what’s making you cry, y/n.”

“Sh- she told me that people only want to talk to me to get closer to my brother because I’m not that interesting. That bitch called me UNINTERESTING! I mean…I am, but that is not the point, ya know? Who says something like that to someone?” You blabbered, as you whined in his lap.

He didn’t know what to say to you. You never showed this kind of emotion before. All he could do was play with your hair, and caress your shoulder as you whimpered loudly. Then he got an idea. His eyes lit up, as he pulled you over to face him, still laying in his lap.

“How about I train you? Huh? Would that make you feel better?” He asked with a bright smile as he wiped your tears. You pouted up at him, nodding as you panted loudly. He smiled, before lifting you off of him. He stood, and then grabbed your hand to pull you up before walking deeper in the woods.

It was almost eclipse as you were about to hit the last target of the day. Neteyam seemed to take a liking to you seeing as he finally spent time with you. He grew to realize how nice, and sweet you were over the course of the day. The big brother act quickly turned into something darker, and deeper. He wanted to know how it would feel to be inside you, you screaming his name, seeing how bad the good girl could get.

You lined up your bow with the target as he admired your small waist, and lean back. Your huge breasts moving up and down with every deep breath. he walked towards you to angle you right.

“You’re doing good, but hold the bow like this.” He grabbed your hands, placing them where they needed to be as you felt his bulge rub against your ass. You gasp a-little bit, not enough for him to notice.

“Control your breathing, it is elevating.” he whispered in your ear, making your body hot. You were completely oblivious to what he was doing. You thought that maybe it was an accident, or coincidence, but Neteyam was testing you. He wanted to see how far he could go, before he made his move.

“I-I’m sorry” you stutter, shaking your head to snap back into reality. You angle the bow correctly, and shoot, hitting the target straight in the middle. You squeal in happiness as you jumped up and down.

“Fuck yeahhh, y/n” he laughed, clapping his hands. You look up at him, jumping into his arms, and he happily caught you.

“Did you see that!!!” You ask him excitedly.

“ I did!!! You did amazing today.” He smiled, watching you jump up and down in his arms, creating friction between his pelvis and yours.

You finally realized the position you were in before your eyes widened, jumping out of his arms. You looked at the ground, fiddling with your fingers.

“I-I’m so sorry, I j-just got alittle excited!” You smile nervously up at him, as he glared down at your nervous figure, licking his bottom lip. Your breathing picked up again before he placed his strong hand at the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

“Y/n i-“ he started, sighing before looking around the forest, and then back down at your doughy eyes.

“I don’t know what you did to me today, but I can’t get enough of you.” He confessed, sliding his hand down to your neck, gripping it lightly. Your eye twitched, as you melted in his touch.

“I want you so fucking bad…” he whispered in your ear, before focusing his attention on your unmarked neck, so innocent and pure. He gently kissed it, making your knees buckle. He caught you, wrapping his arms around your thighs, pulling you up onto him. He walked you to a tree, pinning you there as your legs were still wrapped around his strong torso. He untied the cloth that covered your breasts, throwing it to the side as he admired your chest.

He looked up at you, with pleading eyes. Before you pushed his head onto your hard nipple. You let out a loud gasp, throwing your head back onto the tree behind you. He swirled his tongue around your hard nipple, looking up at you. Although this felt good, you needed something more, something filling.

you needed him…

“Neteyam” you breathlessly moan, eyes shut closed.

“Yes, my love.” He muttered, still attacking your nipple with his warm tongue.

“I want it, please give it to me.” You plead desperately, sliding your hand down to his loincloth, untying it. He grunts before pulling away from your nipple.

“Y/n, I don’t want to hurt you, let us take this slow.” He explained, grabbing your hand before you go any farther. You pull him in for a fiery kiss, tongues dancing around with each other. You pull away, glaring at him.

“I need it…” you both look down at his huge bulge in unison as it threatened to pop out of the untied loincloth resting between your bodies. You push him back to let his loincloth fall to the ground beneath him. His cock sprung out in between the two of you. Your mouth watered at the sight in-front of you. His huge veiny cock, throbbing for you, yearning for you. You couldn’t take it anymore. You untied your loincloth, throwing it to the side as he watched your every move, hungrily.

He started thrusting his cock between your soaked folds, getting his cock wet enough to slide into you.

“Let me know if it hurts, and I’ll stop y/n.” he commanded breathlessly, sliding you down on to him slowly. You both moan in unison at the feeling of your bodies linking together. He finally slides you all the way down, grunting as he laid his head on your chest, panting loudly. He took a deep breath before looking back up at you.

“A-am I hurting you?” He stuttered feeling your tight walls clenching around his cock already. He wasn’t hurting you at all. He was filling you so good that you could even form the right words.

“MOVE.” is all you said before he finally gave in. Thrusting into you slow and deep, as he dug his nails into your thighs for leverage.

“Y-you feel soooo good!” You whine, gripping his shoulder as you threw your head back. He sped up, making your mouth fly open. He leaned down to your ear, kissing it before speaking.

“The feeling is mutual, baby!” He grunted, nibbling at your earlobe. Your back arched off of the tree supporting you, as the pleasure was becoming too much for you. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Neteyam, I- I can’t!” You screamed, tears running down your face, as your face contorted from the knot building in your stomach. He wrapped his strong arms around your tiny torso, thrusting into you quickly.

“Yes you can y/n, I got you…I promise!!” He moaned, feeling his high slowly starting to approach. Your mouth dropped at his precious words.

I got you…

I promise…

It was too much for you. Your eyes rolled back, and your legs started to shake.

“Mmmm neteyammm!!!” You screeched, shutting your eyes tightly as he fucked you sensless.

“Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not interesting.” He started, as he made eye contact with you, biting his lip as he felt you clench around him.

“You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me all fucking day.” He grunted sending you hard, deep strokes as his face contorted from the pleasure. Yet again, his words sent you over the edge.

“Neteyammm!!!” You screamed, letting your juices flow down his cock. He looked down at the beautiful site, and then back up at you.

“Shittt, where do you want it?” He asked tiredly, with a delirious look on his face as he panted loudly.

“In me, please!” His eyes widened at your answer, before he looked down again, watching his cock twitch with every thrust.

“Y/n, you’re not thinking straight.” He grunted breathlessly as he felt his muscles tense up, sweat pouring off of him into your lap. He went to pull out of you, and you clenched around him.

“Y-y/n, wait, FUCK!” He threw his head back, releasing his seed inside of you. You moaned at the feeling of him filling you up just right.

He thrusted into you softly, grunting with every stroke. You looked down, seeing his cock pulsing inside of you. He took a deep breath placing you back on the ground. He chuckled, still trying to catch his breath. He leaned into your lips, pecking them before eyeing you up and down. He grabbed your neck before speaking:

“Uninteresting my ass.”

Okayyy, this was the second most voted story in the poll, and idk y’all I kinda like it😏. As always, I love y’all to death, and I’ll see yall later.

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

[hyukakisses]

We got beomie and hyuka as ghostface individually but what would happen when our sweet little reader ends up being ghostface with him????

I was binging the franchise and pondered on the idea since there’s typically more than one behind the mask OOooOoOoOoOo

I love spooky szn hahaha not as much as I love you!!!

- 🙂‍↕️

aww omg i love you too :D

-ghostface emo txt dating ghostface reader! (request!)

pairings: emo ghostface txt x ghostface reader

plot: random separate ghostface txt x ghostface reader headcanons

warnings: gore, smut, fluff, plot twist, txt infantilizing reader, cursing, death, heavily inspired by different ghostfaces’ from the scream franchise, bottom reader x top txt, takes place in university, established relationship between txt and reader, fan x celebrity dynamic between beomgyu and reader, (reader is jill roberts and beomgyu is charlie walker), crybaby reader

yeonjun as amber freeman ㅤׄㅤ 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•when a second ghostface was back in town you were more paranoid than usual, resulting in giving yeonjun your sliver heart locket necklace as a form of protection. “w-wait jjunnie” a small squeak falls from your pouty lips as you lay beneath your boyfriend on your pretty back. yeonjun pulls away from your mouth with a whine of protest. “what is it baby? am i going too fast?” you shake your head at that question, “i-i just don’t know what i’d do if anything happened to you” your shaky hands reach up to take off the sliver chain around your neck and you cursed at yourself for sparing yeonjun. what makes him so different from the friends in your life? you hated them and you hate your boyfriend too right?

•with a flushed face, your hands wrap around yeonjun’s neck clipping on the heart locker necklace you always wore. “i just wanna make sure you’re okay.. with ghostface running around again im really scared of losing you” you cringed at yourself, hating how you just said how you felt out loud.

•yeonjun only smiles at your scared state, you really think he needs protection from the masked killer running around town? if only you knew. “thanks baby” yeonjuns brown eyes pierce down at your pretty skirt, “you have condoms right?”

•yeonjun loved how stupid you’d get from his cock each time he’d fuck you, smiling menacingly as the emo boy imagined how cute you’d look struggling to breathe with his hands wrapped around your airway- “jjunnie?” you call out weakly, yeonjun’s eyes open. “i wanna cum jjunnie” you’d whine at his fingers pinching and pull at your swollen bud. the cold metal from yeonjun’s rings making you shiver

•yeonjun always threw the best parties in campus, which annoyed you since you hated parties but whatever tonight can be the night you finally kill your boyfriend right? “why are you watching this?” you stand behind the couch yeonjun laid on watching the texas chainsaw massacre. “it helps calms me down” the black haired male finishes his drink, “hey baby can you please get me some more beer?” you sighed and nodded going into the basement. closing the fridge you jump at yeonjun standing in front of you with a grin, “that was a test and you failed!” “what? you said to get more beer!” “yeah and you should have asked me to come to the basement with you!” you scoffed contemplating if you should just kill yeonjun right here right now “look baby you can’t just go around in scary places alone with a masked killer around it just makes you look suspicious” “what? what do you mean i look suspicious?” yeonjun steps closer “it makes me think maybe you’re the killer running around woodsboro” you froze your eyes wide and yeonjun laughs at your petrified state “im kidding baby i know you’re not the killer” you narrowed your eyes confused now. “and how do you know that i’m not the killer?” yeonjun chuckles again walking so close to you that you felt his breath on your lips “because im the killer” you squeak falling to the ground below your feet “im kidding baby! jeez!” his strong arms lift you up to your feet again “no but seriously i know you’re not the killer because look at you, you’re such a crybaby i think even killing as something as little as a bug will have you confessing in shame. now come on let’s go i wanna play beer bong”

•you blinked confused at why you were being dragged in a closet, “jjunnie? what are you doing?” “baby just be quiet yeah? it’s hard to explain just- just don’t come out until you i come get you alright?” your eyes widen at yeonjun bonding your wrists together with a rope “i promise baby i’ll explain everything later just be a good girl and be quiet for me yeah?” and that’s when you knew yeonjun was the other ghostface running around town. “can you say ‘yes jjunnie i understand’ for me baby? i just wanna make sure you’re not going to leave” you were paralyzed with fear “y-yes jjunnie i understand”

•you felt like you were about to have a heart attack watching yeonjun clean his bloody arms with a rag, grabbing a huge stash of cash and stuffing it in a duffel bag. the sound of police cars coming from outside. you couldn’t lie you felt extremely turned on by watching your boyfriend slaughter people with his bare hands and a single knife but still you couldn’t believe yeonjun was the second masked killer all along. “you scream and ill silt your throat” yeonjun grabs you out of the closet whispering in your ear “or better yet i’ll tell the cops outside that you did this which wouldn’t be a lie considering you are the other killer” “how did you know?” your blood runs cold staring at the knife yeonjun had poking by your airway “oh come on baby you’re so fucking obvious you really think i’m that dumb? i mean you’re good with your killings i’ll give you that but you’re sloppy leaving pieces of the pretty ribbons you wear behind? you’re so lucky i was there to clean up your messes now be quiet and come with me” you felt an arm tug you by the back door as police officers burst through the front door.

soobin as ethan landry 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•am i gonna die a virgin? was all soobin could think about as he tries to listen to his classmates talk about a masked killer going around campus slaughtering everybody. i mean soobin was one of the killers but who could the other killer be? he was nervously picking at his nails because of this. his mind immediately going to how badly you’re gonna flip at this

•soft whines and whimpers echo the walls on your bedroom when soobin’s tongue swirls around your right nipple while his large hand kneaded your left tit “binnie?” you call out making soobin whimper at you tugging his face up to meet yours “yeah?” his eyes bore into yours “i think i’m ready now” you were referring to losing your virginity. soobin’s face squints into a smile, “yeah?” he moves the hand from your tit and drags it underneath your short skirt. “you want me to pop your pretty little cherry? really baby?” you nod making your boyfriend excitedly kiss your lips

•soobin moans deeply his hands gripping onto your hips with an iron grip, fucking your smaller body onto his cock scared you’ll squirm away. “s-soobinnie!” you wail hugging onto your boyfriend tighter when you felt soobins cock reach your sensitive spot. his globes smacking against your ass making you whine at the burning sensation. “w-wanna cum! wanna cum” you babbled with tears welling at your pretty eyes. this action going straight for soobin’s dick making his hips stutter as he pulls you flush to his body. “yeah?” he drags you closer to his weeping cock, his hand rubbing tight circles on your puffy clit making you weep pathetically, your cunt twitching uncontrollably when you cum all over soobin’s cock triggering his long awaited release. the emo boy sighing dreamily when he shoots in load in your pussy, —this is way better than getting off to hentai

•you constantly tease soobin after that night, giggling about how you both weren’t going to die as a virgins and how you told your friends and they high fived you. which normally could have set soobin off but he let that slide. soobin pretty much let anything slide, even your cute habit of calling him ‘bunny!’ each time you see him in public. soobin just thought you were too cute to kill anybody. so that definitely rules you out on his ghostface suspicions…

•“binnie?” you break the makeout session you were currently in with the secret masked killer. “you won’t let ghostface hurt me right?” your faux eyes in fear bore into soobins as he huffs at the loss of contact from your lips. “i-i won’t, i-ll fucking kill him you hear me?” soobin chants yanking you into another kiss, a large hand presses against your throat, hard enough for you to feel but not hard enough to choke you. “promise?” you breathed smiling holding out your pinky. soobin chuckles wrapping his pinky around, yours kissing your hand before kissing you again. “i won’t i swear i won’t- i promise” you felt yourself melt at the reassurance. “i love you bunny” you flush watching your boyfriend play with your hand. “your hand is so small” “look at how big my hand looks compared to yours” you thought soobin randomly comparing your hand sizes was cute

•when soobin asked you to get his pierce the veil cd you were more than willing to do so! reaching in his top drawer and when you felt something shiny you just assumed it was the said cd, before you let out a wince in pain at a stabbing sensation. “what the-“ your eyes widen at the familiar knife you mistaken for the cd. you couldn’t believe your boyfriend who reminded you of a bunny could be a crazed serial killer. without saying anything you tuck the knife away and start to look elsewhere for the requested item

•watching soobin slice open a boy’s throat from under your bed definitely wasn’t on your bingo card. you shook in fear and your hands cling on your mouth in attempt of silencing your whimpers, not so sure if you were whimpering in fear or arousal. you just couldn’t believe soobin went as far as killing some guy for you just out of his own jealously- maybe you can come clean about being ghostface too? you yelp when you felt your leg being pulled. okay fuck that! you were definitely too scared maybe you won’t tell him until you’re certain he won’t cut you up too

beomgyu as charlie walker ㅤׄㅤ 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•beomgyu was absolutely obsessed with horror films, the boy even ran a club for it. so he was definitely caught up with the ghostface lore, even as going far as making documentaries his victims that loved around woodsboro.

•you thought this was annoying, how beomgyu followed you around like a lost puppy with a stupid camera in your face because he thought you were pretty. or how beomgyu would invite himself over your house to watch a scary movie and forced you to download letterboxd for him

•beomgyu was pathetic, you never talked to him around campus yet he has this huge crush on you and he knows everything about you. from your favorite color to the fact that you’re not this moody girl you painted yourself to be, but instead you were a huge crybaby who talked to your stuffed teddy bears out of loneliness.

•beomgyu began watching you through binoculars each time you left your window open. his cock weeping with pre cum in his pants as he snaps photos of you pleasuring yourself with your adorable little plushies. praying to god you’d stop being a bitch and let him fuck you

•beomgyu’s heart filled up with joy when you randomly asked him out. you claimed you’ve always had a thing for him and his nerdy interests but really you just wanted help in your ghostface scheme. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t say no.

•your heart pounds in your ears as you stare at the bloody portrait beomgyu placed behind your teddy bear. it was a boy you had math with, gutted all over a mattress and you really feared beomgyu at this moment, afraid of what he might do to you if he found out you were just using him

•“you’re not fucking serious? you’re backing out because you’re scared you’ll get caught?” beomgyu chuckles blowing another thrust at your sloppy cunt making you whimper loudly. “we’re not done with this ghostface shit until i say so you hear me? now stop fucking moving and make yourself useful and take my cum yeah?” beomgyu breathes yanking you up and down his member, using you as a fleshlight. “if you threaten me like that again i’ll fucking you kill you and behead your plushies” beomgyu laughs at your teary eyes. proceeding to kiss you deeply shoving his tongue down your pretty throat <3

taehyun as billy loomis 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•taehyun knew you were behind recent killings the second you expressed your jealously. “i’ll.. i’ll kill her if you don’t stop being her friend!” you told taehyun about how you hated his girl best friend. well you actually hated all of his friends but that’s not the point. taehyun was able to calm you down after swearing he’ll stop the friendship, but when he heard about the death of his beloved friend he knew it was you.

•taehyun asked you carefully, afraid he’d upset you if you had anything to do with the murder. “so what if i did? why are you asking? did you wanna fuck her or something!” you sob at the accusation. taehyun panicked and immediately dropped the conversation comforting you was more important

•taehyun also found your ghostface mask and black robe when he was doing your laundry, already imagining how baggy the piece of clothing looked on you. a smile crept onto his face when he should have been scared

•taehyun thought how blunt you were about something as serious as killing was cute the way you can babble about gutting any girl he ever talks to and then show him your collection of ribbons like if nothing happened really did throw him off

•“what’s your favorite scary movie?” you heard ghostface whisper in your as he stuffed his long fingers inside your wet cunt. smiling as he notices the tears down your chubby cheeks. “black.. black swan!” you cry holding onto taehyun’s wrist, scared he’d kill you right there despite you being ghostface yourself. taehyun lifts the ghostface mask off his face needing to kiss you, this reveal making you jump. “h-hyunnie?” your cunt squeezes taehyun’s digits as he spreads your folds apart. “shhh just relax and be a good girl for me yeah? lay down so i can have my meal.” he smacks a hand down your pretty clit. lightly tossing you back in your baby pink sheets ):

•when taehyun started killing along with you, you grew lazy on your killing spree. “you can do it hyunnie i just wanna play animal crossing” “you’ll take over for me right?” you smile handing him your ghostface mask and robe “you’re way stronger than i am hyunnie!” taehyun would take this role very seriously

•taehyun let you do whatever you wanted until you started spiraling. “i had to hyunnie! she was going to take you away from me!” you sob hysterically, soaked in your victim’s blood. “baby she was just delivering mail” taehyun sighed scared you’ll blow your cover, along with his. “how about you just let hyunnie deal with the killing from now on yeah? you just sit there and look pretty” he coos at your quivering lips, pulling you into the bathroom he’ll just clean up your mess later.

huening kai as stu mutcher 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•huening kai didn’t have a serious bone in his body, he was always giggling at something despite being very fucking weird and awkward. i mean who has a collection of butterfly knives? and who gifts that to someone else else? nobody knew how he pulled you.

•the only time you’ve ever seen kai so serious was when you both were listening to tommy february and tommy heavenly 6 on his hello kitty cd player, aruging over who was better. you being team heavenly and him being team february.

•hyuka being one of the masked killers just didn’t make any sense to you. despite everyone on campus saying he gave off that vibe, you refused to believe that rumor. you knew huening kai better than anybody, this is the same guy who sung you lullabies when you needed sleep but couldn’t sleep on your own. the same guy who kissed your plushies goodnight before kissing you. the same guy who screams like a princess when he gets splashed by water. the same boy who watched magical shoujo girl anime with you and knew the soundtrack of each anime by heart. so seriously? why does everyone think he could be ghostface? because he owns black nail polish and wore black clothing? how stupid.

• your hands brace themselves on a teddy bear kai gave you for good measure as his pierced tongue swirls against your cute clit, the taste of the strawberry you were eating earlier lingering on your pretty pussy. you let out a quiet sob as you felt the cold piece of metal tug at your puffy bud, “n-ningie i-i can’t take it! wanna cum! need to cum!” your cries quickly turn to sobs as your heart thumps. you felt like you were going to burst if you didn’t cum any time soon. hyuka smiles against your heat, loving the stinging sensation of your gentle pulling at his long black hair. “yeah?” he pulls away from your cunt and replaces his mouth with his fingers, jabbing his pointer and middle finger at your sweet spot hovering over your smaller body. watching how you squirm at his touch. “is that it baby? is that your little princess spot? or should i aim higher?” kai teases his hair falling over his eyes. when you’re about to respond, the emo boy pulls away making your eyes wide in disbelief. “ningie!” you let out a wail “i wanna cum! please let me cum!” more tears fall down your face as you helplessly tug on kai’s shirt. eventually coaxing him to let you but on one condition. “okay baby i’ll let you cum but you’re cumming all over my cock understood?”

•when you hid underneath your friends bed sheets, you couldn’t help but flinch violently when you felt blood splash all over the blanket around you. you squeeze your eyes shut as an attempt to play dead thinking the killer currently slicing up your bestfriend would spare you. you felt bad but you did tell her to not go downstairs. when loud footsteps near the bed you were laying you shivered. covering your mouth to quiet your breathing. yelping when you felt a yank from the covers, you were about to get stabbed until ghostface studies your face. kai immediately covers you up again taking his leave, this confused you.. why did you get spared?

•when the coast was clear you shakily try to make a run back home, freezing in your tracks when you notice a cardcaptor sakura sealing wand charm on the ground. this immediately makes you realize that you were spared because huening kai was the man underneath the mask. you were scared at what he’ll do if he knew that you knew

•“where are you going?” you gave kai a pout, reaching up to bring the boy closer to your body. “i just have to go finish my homework” hyuka lies but you knew that wasn’t true “i know you’re ghostface” you blurt out like word vomit. “and? what are you going to do about it? throw on your ghostface mask and kill me too?” kai laughs unserious, you quickly shake your head no. “good girl now be quiet i’ll be back later”

a/n: wait happy halloween what the fuck there’s only a week left until halloween..

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

I love all your work! Could I request a story about ot8 and reader? Where they have yet to be intimate with each other and the guys basically are silently going crazy to love on her fully? They respect her and will not force her at all.. The guys get more affectionate and she notices their stares,especially in her night shirt. Then one day she ,shyly, asks them if they hate her and why they are intimate and well they explain and its all fluffy and romantic and maybe a bit of smut, without too much detail.

ℂℍ𝔼ℝℝ𝕐

Warning: Angst/comfort/fluff/Smut

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Come on, bunny, you'll catch a cold," Changbin urged Y/N as they made their way back to the cabin. They were in Switzerland for a skiing vacation, and the chill in the air was unmistakable. The boys had just finished their tour and felt like they had been neglecting her, so they decided to surprise her with this romantic trip, knowing how much she loved skiing.

"This is nice," Y/N said, her arms intertwined with Changbin's. They had decided to take a stroll while the rest of the boys unpacked.

"It's so beautiful here, just like you," Changbin complimented, flashing her a warm smile. Even though it was cheesy, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth, her cheeks turning pink under his gaze.

"You're so corny," she teased, lightly shoving him, which earned a hearty laugh from him.

"I can't wait to spend time with you guys. We really needed this," Changbin said, pulling her even closer as they walked toward the rented cabin, the crunch of snow beneath their boots providing a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation.

"Same, my love," she replied, giving him a quick kiss before reaching for the grocery bags they had picked up during their walk. The bags crinkled in her hands as she felt a sense of contentment.

"We're home!" he called out cheerfully as they stepped inside. The warmth of the cabin enveloped them, a stark contrast to the frosty air outside. It seemed everyone was in the basement; she guessed they were just watching a movie. As she and Changbin put away the groceries, they engaged in light conversation, filled with laughter and playful banter.

As they made their way down the hallway toward the basement, they suddenly froze. The sounds of moans and groans echoed loudly, filling the otherwise quiet space.

"What is that?" Y/N whispered, her eyes wide with surprise, glancing at Changbin, who looked equally stunned. They exchanged knowing looks, and the reality of what they were hearing began to dawn on them.

"Um... should we...?" Changbin started, scratching the back of his neck, unsure of how to proceed.

"I think we should just—" Y/N began, but the sound of laughter cut her off. They both burst into giggles, the awkwardness of the situation somehow breaking the tension.

Y/N, being the innocent girl she was, assumed they were just playing one of their usual wrestling games. Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the door to the basement, but her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her.

"Fuck!" Chan cursed as he heard her gasp, and chaos erupted in the room as everyone scrambled to pull their clothes on.

"Changbin, you were supposed to keep her busy!" Chan groaned, the frustration evident in his voice. The words stung Y/N’s heart; so they had been planning this behind her back? How long had this been going on without her knowing?

"I—I'm gonna go..." she stammered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She quickly turned on her heel, dashing back upstairs and out of the house, her heart racing. She grabbed her ski gear from the entryway, not bothering to look back as she heard the boys calling for her, their voices tinged with concern and confusion.

“Y/N, wait!” Changbin shouted, but she was already outside, the cold air hitting her like a splash of ice water. She needed space to think, to process what had just happened. The excitement of the trip felt like a distant memory, replaced by the turmoil in her heart.

As she strapped on her skis, the reality of the situation weighed heavily on her. She wanted to enjoy this vacation, to feel the thrill of skiing down the slopes, but the image she had just seen kept replaying in her mind.

They had never tried to have sex with her. Y/N had always thought that maybe they would after marriage or that perhaps they just weren't in the mood. Doubts began to creep in—maybe they weren’t attracted to her in the same way they were to each other. Maybe she was just there to carry their kids and fulfill a role as a housewife.

Her thoughts felt foggy, and her goggles were becoming clouded with tears. Why was she being such a crybaby about it? So what if she walked in on her boyfriends having sex without her? So what if they didn’t want to touch her like that?

Why did it matter? She loved them for who they were, not for the physical aspect of their relationship. Was she overreacting?

She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. Perhaps she was being too hard on herself. After all, it was normal to feel hurt and confused in a situation like this. The tears flowed freely now, blurring her vision as she skied down the hill, her heart aching with the weight of her emotions.

As she pushed off down the slope, the cold wind whipped against her face, mixing with her tears. The thrill of skiing was something she cherished, a temporary escape from her tangled thoughts. But even as she glided down the mountain, the doubts and insecurities lingered in the back of her mind, refusing to let her find peace.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"It's been hours. Where do you think she is?" Leeknow paced back and forth, trying to call Y/N's phone again, his worry palpable.

"Hyung... do you think we scared her away?" Felix asked, his voice shaky as he leaned into Hyunjin, who was cuddling him in an attempt to calm him down.

"No, of course not, baby. She's probably just in shock. She's a virgin, remember?" Hyunjin assured him, planting a gentle kiss on Felix's temple to soothe him.

"But that’s no excuse to run away and make us feel like this," Han frowned, burying himself deeper into Chan's hold, seeking comfort.

"I know, my love. But just give her some time," Chan replied, trying to keep his own anxiety in check while comforting Han.

"I'll go start on dinner," Seungmin offered, eager to take action.

"I'll help," I.N. said, getting up from his seat. The two of them disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the others to wait anxiously in the living room.

As the sound of clattering dishes filled the air, the remaining boys exchanged worried glances. Each of them felt a mixture of guilt and concern. They knew Y/N well enough to understand that she needed time, but the uncertainty of her absence gnawed at their hearts.

"I hope she’s okay," Felix said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She will be," Hyunjin replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "We just have to give her space to process everything."

But as they waited, a heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the sounds of Seungmin and I.N. in the kitchen, each clatter of dishes serving as a reminder of their growing worry for Y/N.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

About thirty minutes later, Y/N walked into the house, her ski gear in hand. She made sure to put everything back on the rack neatly, knowing how Han could get when things weren’t in their proper places.

The house felt a bit too quiet, but she thought maybe the boys were still down in the theater. As she walked into the living room, she found everyone sitting around the table, looking as though they were in the midst of a serious meeting.

"Hey, guys..." she said shyly. All eyes landed on her, causing her to freeze in place.

"Y/N?" Chan said, getting up and pulling her into a hug.

"Where the hell have you been?? You scared me, love," he said, giving her a short kiss before pulling her into another tight embrace.

"I just went out to ski. I needed some fresh air," she replied, wrapping her arms around him, her heart racing in her chest. She felt bad for making them worry, but at the same time, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

"Do you think what you did was right?" Leeknow scolded her, his tone sharp.

"Leeknow, be nice," Han interjected from the couch, giving him a warning glare.

"I'm sorry, babe, but what you did wasn't acceptable. We're in a foreign country, and you went skiing without any of us. What if you got hurt and were left out there alone in the cold?" Leeknow pressed, his concern evident but his words stinging.

"Leeknow, I'm sorry! I just needed air, okay?" she defended herself, feeling cornered.

"Air for what? To avoid walking in on your boyfriends being intimate?" he scoffed, watching as she slowly began to shrink under his gaze.

"It's not that, I promise," she insisted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Then what is it? You should be communicating, you know—the thing people do when they feel like they're not being understood?" He looked at her intently, and she found it hard to meet his gaze. She knew she deserved this; she really did. "Instead of running away and causing your partners heartache and headaches."

"Leeknow, that's enough," Chan said gently, stepping in and pulling him away. The rest of the boys stood there, unsure whether to say anything or just remain silent.

"I'll go wash up," she said quietly, needing to escape the tension.

"No, Y/N, wait! Let’s talk about what’s bothering you," Changbin called after her, concern etched on his face.

"It's fine," she insisted, standing her ground.

"Can I come with you?" Felix pouted, tugging at her arm.

"Lix... I don't think that’s a good idea. I'll be back," she promised, planting a kiss on his forehead before making her way up to her shared room with Chan.

Once inside, she stepped into the steamy embrace of the hot shower, feeling the warmth wrap around her like a comforting hug. The water cascaded down her skin as she scrubbed vigorously, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why does this bother me so much?" she muttered under her breath, her thoughts spiraling. "Why is everything so complicated?" She needed clarity, but the weight of the situation felt heavier than ever.

After her shower, she threw on her new pair of pajamas—a tight tank top and soft shorts. She knew she'd probably get teased for wearing something so light in the chilly air, but at that moment, she just didn’t care.

As she began to massage oil into her skin, she heard a soft knock at the door. Hyunjin poked his head in, holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He was dressed in cozy sweats and a hoodie, his hair pulled back in a messy bun. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I brought you some hot cocoa. Wouldn’t want you to get sick,”

“Thank you, You’re the best,” she replied, smiling as he set the cup on the counter. He plopped down on the bed beside her, grabbing the oil from her hand and starting to gently massage it into her legs.

She found herself lost in thought, a mix of gratitude and confusion swirling in her mind. “You know, you really didn’t have to do this,” she said, glancing at him.

“Of course I do, You’re my girlfriend,” he replied, his tone sincere as he focused on her legs. “Plus, it’s nice to hang out like this.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she said, a small smile creeping onto her face. “I just feel a bit overwhelmed with what happened today.”

Hyunjin paused for a moment, looking up at her. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently, still working on the massage.

“Talk about what?” she replied, trying to deflect as she felt a flush of warmth on her cheeks.

“Why you run away,” he said, his voice steady. “Flip over so I can do your back.”

She complied, her heart racing slightly as she turned. “I don’t know… It’s just that you guys never want to—”

“Never want to what?” he pressed, trying to encourage her to share.

“Please don’t make me say it,” she whispered, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” he said softly, capping the oil and sitting back. “I can’t fix what I don’t know.”

In a moment of panic, she tried to get up, but he reached out, gently pulling her back down beside him. “You can’t run away from this, you know,” he teased lightly. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Ugh, don’t say that,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Okay, how about this,” he said, clearing his throat and adopting a mock-serious tone. “Lets go have some dinner and then we can all talk," he told her

“Y-yeah, we can do that,” she said, standing up to help him out. As she did, she noticed his eyes flicker up and down, and she felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. His eyes slowly rake up and down her body and he saw her hardened nipples. He groaned mentally. She was perfect. The things he would do to her were very much out of pocket and he couldn't help but feel his little buddy growing a bit hard at the thought.

Yeah, they were all cooked.

When they finally made it downstairs, everyone was gathered around the table, enjoying dinner. She took her seat, trying to ignore the way the boys’ eyes widened in surprise. She was wearing new pajamas, they loved the way it suited her body.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin asked, studying her face with concern.

“Yeah, thank you,” she replied, glancing at her empty plate. Just then, she reached over to grab some food from I.N., and he nearly choked. She reached over I.N. and he instantly choked when her chest was practically right in his face.

“You okay?” Changbin laughed, the others joining in as I.N. coughed, trying to recover.

“Y-yeah, just went down the wrong way,” he said, still catching his breath.

Y/N looked at him, her brow furrowed with concern. “Do you need some water?” she asked, a hint of panic in her voice.

“Yes, please!” he replied, and she immediately jumped up, heading for the water dispenser.

As she bent over to fill a cup, Chan couldn’t help but shake his head, trying to focus. “I can’t do this,” he muttered under his breath, feeling a wave of confusion. Her ass was all out, and he was struggling to keep his thoughts straight.

"We'll bring it up when she's back," Leeknow whispered, nodding in agreement. She silently handed I.N. the water and took a seat at the table.

As she took a few bites of her food, she felt several pairs of eyes on her. “I-Is everything okay, guys?” she asked, her insecurities creeping in. “Do you not like my body? I can cover up—”

“Y/N, please, never say that again,” Chan growled, his voice low and intense. “You’re perfect. It hurts.” His gaze darkened, a mix of longing and frustration brewing within him. The thought that she felt insecure around them only intensified his desire to show her just how much she meant to him.

“I—oh… t-thank you?” she replied quietly, feeling her cheeks warm. “I just thought that maybe you didn’t like my body…”

"Why did you run away when you saw us today Y/n?" Felix got the courage to finally ask.

"I was just shocked that you guys were sneaking behind my back. S o i thought maybe you aren't attraced to me..."

“Is anyone going to tell her?” Han finally chimed in, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “Y/N, the only reason we haven’t had sex is because we’re scared you’re not ready. That’s why we sneak around you,” he said, crossing his arms.

“But… why didn’t you just ask?” she furrowed her brows in confusion. Did they really want her that badly? “I mean, I only left because I thought you guys didn’t want me around…”

“For God’s sake, can someone tell her how she’s been driving us crazy?” Leeknow growled, his frustration evident. Even though he was still a bit upset about her earlier stunt, he couldn’t bear to listen to her talk badly about herself.

“I-I just thought…” she started, but Seungmin interrupted with a chuckle.

“Baby, you have to be the most clueless person here,” he teased gently.

“Why do you think we always take cold showers after spending the night with you or cuddling?” he explained, a playful smirk on his face as he placed a hand on her thigh. “We have to calm down, or else we’d practically jump you.”

“I didn’t know that…” she blushed, her heart racing as she processed their words. “You really mean it?”

“Absolutely,” Han said, leaning in with a grin. “You’ve got us all twisted up in knots, and it’s driving us wild.”

“Yeah,” Leeknow added, a mischievous glint in his eye. “We’re just trying to figure out the right time to show you how much we care.”

She looked around the table, a mix of warmth and uncertainty flooding her. “Wow, I had no idea… I guess I really misread the situation.”

“We just wanted to give you space and respect your time, bubs. But honestly, we’ve all been waiting for you. I hope you don’t feel rushed,” Felix said, his voice sincere.

“No... I guess I just wish you guys had talked to me earlier because I wouldn’t mind having sex with you all,” she admitted shyly, her cheeks warming at the thought.

“Are you sure about that, babygirl?” Hyunjin smirked, clearly excited. He’d been looking forward to this moment.

“Okay, guys, let’s not all start drooling,” Changbin chuckled, glancing around at the wide-eyed expressions of his boyfriends. “We don’t want to scare her off,”

“So you mean I could have had you this whole time?” I.N. exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief. His fork hovered in the air as if frozen.

“Y-yeah, if you asked,” she replied, trying to stifle a giggle at his shocked face.

“I'm going to get you for keeping me away from her!” he teased, directing a mock glare at Chan. “This was your idea!”

“Hey! I was just trying to make sure you didn’t overwhelm her!” Chan protested, raising his hands defensively, a playful smile on his lips.

“You guys are taking way too long!” Leeknow jumped up, a mischievous grin on his face. He reached over and gently scooped her out of her seat, causing her to squeal in surprise. “Let’s get moving!”

“Wait, what are we doing?” she laughed, feeling a mix of confusion and excitement.

“I call dibs first!" he called before dashing into his room and locking it. She heard the boys' footsteps following behind them and then banging on the door but it was too late.

Leeknow was now on top of her kissing her hungry.

"Too far," she interrupted. "I said 'right now.'" The hunger was high in her voice. "Need you-"

She was cut off by Leeknow taking her hips, then pulling her pants down, something she gave approving sounds to as she pawed at his body. She squeaked in surprise when he took her waist again and lifted her, deeper into the bed, pushing her against the soft pillows, her legs over his shoulders, his hands crossed on her chest to hold her back as he took her in his mouth.

"Oh fuck-"

She lost her words as he began to lick her, starting with broad strokes, then sucking her deeply and, as fast as her groans and squeaks of pleasure built up, increased both speed and intensity, until only moments later she was coming on his face, precious little making it into his mouth, though he swallowed it and licked her clean all the same.

"Minho!" he heard Chan growl and seconds later the door is broken into. She was dazed but managed to give the rest of the boys a weak smile.

I.N squeaked and felt himself cumming in his pants just by the view.

"What? i had to apologize for yelling at her earlier," Leeknow smirked at the angry boys.

"You ready boys?" He asks and they all smirk while surrounding the bed.

"Look who wont be able to ski in the morning," Felix growls.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls

@xxeiraxx @paleangelsweets @klaydohart @eastleighsblog @ivrespace

@galaxy4489 @purplepursepaint @catlove83 @sillystormsstuff @iwuberic

@cocofia143 @royal-shinigami @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @memersanonymous

@skz-stay13 @seungminsbest @hogwartslife64 @sinfulfic @hyunnesblog

@maisyyyyyy @cluelessred3 @leezanetheofficial @cocofia143 @lemonn015

@kkamismom12 @mei0packet @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hyuneyeon @iris-iiridescent

@mbioooo0000

(open: i believe i've added everyone but if you don't see your @ please comment down below)

[kokonoisgf]

jealousy - chuuya nakahara

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

☆  character: Chuuya Nakahara

☆  tw: MINORS DNI 18+ sexual explicit content (fem reader) : jealousy sex, "princess", "doll", praises, idk yo I just love that man

☆ note: been ages lolz, anyways i'm trying to get back into writing so sorry if this is rusty UGHHH enjoy my loves *: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*

☆ word count: 3.8k

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Intimate hues of the lights adorned the halls were oh so perfectly framing your face as you talked - or rather extracted information - from  a member of the X party. Abundance and richness dripped from every corner of the rooms: candles flickering lazily, buffets on silver platters filled with caviars, smoked meats and fruits, champagne, and lots - oh yes lots of diamonds. It looked as if everything was too good to be true, a glittering illusion masking darker secrets beneath. And that’s exactly why you were there with Chuuya by your side on a mission to gain crucial information about X- said information specifically requested by Mori. There had been news going around town that they had been stealing shipments late at night, and that meant stealing from the Port Mafia’s ground. Crossing lines that they should've never crossed, unless they wanted to end up six feets under. 

You walked through the crowd, the slit of your dress went  up your soft thighs, as it almost reached your waist, letting people swarm over you like moths enamoured by the brightest flame.  It was as if all the lights in the room were on you, your gaze looming over the executive, needing just that last piece of information to finally call it a night.

The mission went even more smoothly than you thought, your hand slowly touching the man’s arm, a sweet laughter dripping from your parted lips at his joke. Every gaze was filled with a desire to touch, to know, to possess.

His attention was easy to catch. He leaned in closer, clearly infatuated, eager to please. But you kept your smile soft, your tone disarming, and yet beneath it all, your gaze was sharp, ready to extract the information you needed. You were so close, one more well-placed word, one more laugh, and you’d have the final piece of the puzzle.

Chuuya, who was sitting at the bar a few seats from you, narrowed his eyes, sharp canine poking from between his kissable lips. Downing a drink in silence,  his eyes held a barely restrained fury ‘Fuck’ He cursed under his breath, low enough that only the nearest patrons might hear, eyebrows cocking as the man seemed to be about to devour you whole. Leg shaking under the table, he impatiently taped the side of his glass with his gloved fingers. Said gloved fingers slick from the condensation of the drink. A droplet slid down the side of the glass, slow and deliberate, before landing with a quiet plop on the polished oakwood of the bar. He could hear everything: the ticking of the clock, the chatters all around him, but more so how your sweet voice responded to the man. 

He was losing control, and he knew it. This wasn’t just about the mission anymore. It was about you, and the way this man had dared to even look at you, there was no way he could ever get away with it. Chuuya had to remind himself over and over—it’s part of the plan, it’s part of the plan—but the jealousy clawing at him was winning. The thought that maybe you didn’t see him the way he saw you ate at him, and he was two seconds away from tearing the whole operation apart.

And then it happened. The man, charmed  by your smile, your attention, let his hand slide lower, reaching out to grip your thigh. You could feel the roughness of his fingers skimming across your skin, and your body tensed instinctively. Before you could even react, a sharp sound cracked through the tension—a gloved hand smacking the man’s away, so forcefully the slap echoed across the room.

‘Sir!?’ Confusion filled  the executive’s  voice, as his eyebrows raised, clearly not ready to back out so easily. You could  only sigh internally, it had always been like that. Every time you worked to get close, Chuuya lost his cool just before the crucial moment.  It would have been a blatant lie to say that it annoyed you, in fact you found his jealousy strangely endearing.

‘Back off asshole, she’s with me’’ Growled Chuuya, Cerulean eyes boring into his. His arm was  firmly wrapped around your waist, bringing you even closer, gloved fingers digging into your soft exposed  skin as if to reiterate his point. He looked absolutely breathtaking like this -  when his possessive side showed like that, you thought in a haze. His cologne mixed with his natural scent only made your head spin even more. 

‘I believe we were having a discussion - ‘ The executive stammered, trying to assert himself until he was cut by Chuuya’s rough voice. 

‘Shut the fuck up’

The Mafia executive spat, cutting him off mid-sentence. He clearly was not having it, and before the man could even say another word, He whisked you away upstairs in a closed room where he slammed the door shut. He clicked his tongue in irritation, unbuttoning the upper half of his shirt, unveiling a sliver of his ivory-white skin with each pop. He felt  like he was  losing his damn mind, needing to cool down for a second, everything becoming way too much way too quick downstairs. 

Your gaze never left  his, cradling your face in your arms as you laid atop the plush mattress of one of the many many rooms in this mansion. You could see the storm raging inside him, the jealousy, the protectiveness, the raw need. And you couldn’t help but tease him, just a little 

‘Chuuya, focus on the mission, would you?’

Your teasing tone did  not go unnoticed as a faint blush dusted his cheeks, his jealousy so clearly put on display. Freezing for a moment, he was suddenly hyper aware of every breath he took.Turning  around to face  you, he frowned.

‘I can’t stand seeing any of those pieces of shit touch you’ He was more than bold, cornering you against the bed. ‘Would you understand that?’ He raised an eyebrow, playing with your words. You couldn’t help but enjoy this. This desperate jealous side of him that you always saw on missions like these. Flickering your eyes to his lips, you smiled innocently. 

‘It's part of the mission Chuuya, how else do you want us to get that information Mori asked for’

He only gruffed, leaning against the wall beside you.

‘There’s just no way I can see that and stay calm, y’know me’

He raised an eyebrow, as if this was the most evident thing in the entire universe.

‘Besides, I’d rather use my fucking fist then let one of the these dirtbags breath the same air as you’ 

Gosh - It made your heart flutter. You leaned forward, almost tauntingly letting the silky satin drip down your chest, exposing your cleavage. ‘Yea? You would? Tell me more’

Chuuya narrowed his eyes at you, a faint blush back on his cheeks, as his gaze desperately tried to avoid the valley of your breasts so prettily put on display for him. 

‘Cut that crap already’ He paused scowling, regrouping his composure slightly before letting himself sit next to you on the bed. You taunting him was enough to send him to heaven and back. Not to mention the way your dress hugged your curves so perfectly, the material dipping exposing your curves - Stop. He had to control himself. 

‘I mean it…’ You were now the one who was bold. Your hand coming to rest gingerly on his thigh. He tensed, his whole body feeling as if an electric current ran through him. ‘I want to know what’s on your mind right now…’ You cooed, your eyes drinking in the sight of his flustered face. You’d had wanted him since forever, and now it was enough, you could not hold back anymore. Seeing his possessive side shine through in missions always aroused you more than you’d ever admit, but today was your breaking point — The faint glow of the candle light illuminating the side of his face, taunt jaw, pursed lips, and furrowed brow. He was beyond handsome, but that was no news to you.

The tension in the room felt thick, like a cord pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment.You shifted slightly, the soft silk of your dress brushing against your skin, reminding you just how far you were pushing him. The material clung to you in all the right places, the slit revealing enough to make anyone pause in their tracks, but it was the way Chuuya looked at you that set you alight. His gaze burned with such want, that he felt himself getting dizzy with need. 

On the other hand,  you couldn’t help it. You loved testing him, pushing his limits just to watch him unravel. The way his jaw clenched, the subtle twitch in his fingers like he was fighting the urge to grab you, it made you delirious with want.

His sharp gaze, usually so bold and confident, held a tinge of timidness in the depth of it. Clearing his throat, his eyes zeroed on the way your thumb gently caressed his thigh, the sensation alone enough to send a surge of heat to his groin. It was as if he was at a loss for words,  a rare sight indeed. Years and years of longing for you coming to crash down on him like waves perpetually hitting the shore. 

‘You know…’ you purred, voice dripping with that teasing edge he loved and hated all at once, ‘if you can’t handle this, maybe I should’ve gone with someone else. Someone who could keep their cool on a mission like this.’ You just wanted to rile him up enough so that he could confess his feelings, and gosh — seeing the look in his eyes as his face snapped to meet yours. It was all too good.

His gaze  flashed, anger and desire swirling together in a dangerous mix. He shifted, grabbing your hand that once rested on his thigh  in one swift motion, holding it just tight enough to make you feel the strength behind his restraint.

‘You’d better not even joke about that’ he murmured, voice low and  eyes dark with barely restrained jealousy. ‘Am’ the only one who can touch you. Got that?’ His hand gently grabbed ahold of your chin, tilting it up to meet the seriousness of his gaze - and at that moment, you  wondered  if you pushed it too far. 

‘Touch me right now then..’ Your voice sent a deep shiver through every pore of his being. Chuuya's keen eyes flashed, pupils dilating with sheer lust as he took a moment to register your words. 

‘Yea? Sure’ you can handle it?’ His grip on your chin faltered until he pushed you down gently on the bed. You almost melted into a heap on the mattress, his nervosity seeming to vanish in one-go and you knew you were in for a ride. Chuuya did exhibit such a calm demeanour before you, yet his insides were twisting with a mix of want and apprehensiveness. Truthfully, he would have been lying if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about this moment for so long, and now that words had been spoken, holding himself back was not an option anymore. 

You felt your insides burn and turn as he lowered himself on top of you, cornering you between his body and the plush mattress. Your plump lips parting to voice your thoughts, but you remained silent as if in awe of the man above you: long ginger strands cascading atop his shoulder, cerulean eyes swirling with a twinkle of lust and his white button up slightly — oh so deliciously unbuttoned exposing the fair skin of his collarbones. 

He hummed, eyes taking in the sight of you sprawled below him, completely at his mercy. 

‘Hmm why you so silent now? Seems like just now you had so much to say’ He purred teasingly, leaning down to whisper against the shell of your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

“So what is it? Cat’ got your tongue princess?’ You just looked so damn edible underneath him, that the Executive couldn’t help but trail his gloved hand down your face, until his thumb rubbed soothing patterns on your cheek, tilting your face slightly to make your gaze meet his. The way you gazed at him, looking utterly vulnerable beneath him, lit something inside him as he gulped down, eyes racking over your whole body, until it met yours again.

Even though his teasing tone, his eyes held such pure and raw affection for you, that you felt time stop for a mere moment. Swirling in his sapphire gaze was years of love, jealousy and pure lust.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He blurted out, biting on his lips as if using all his crumbling self restraint to wait on your answer. Chuuya would never do anything to displease you — you were his muse, his reason to go on, his soulmate: all he did in life was for you, to one day be able to call you rightfully his. He was a romantic at heart, but just for you.

 Leaning his forehead on yours, he held your face affectionately pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead 

‘You don't know for how long I’ve wanted this- how long I've wanted you.’ He exhaled, eyes closing as he felt you nod, allowing him to finally seal his lips with yours, and gosh at that moment he swore the heavens made you just for him. 

Fishing a hand through his strands, a desperate whimper of his name caresses your lips as his tongue delves into your mouth wasting no time. He smiles into the kiss pressing himself against you, his hand moving to grasp both your wrists, pinning you against the mattress. He doesn’t want you to move nor do anything, he just wants the whole mansion to hear who you belong to. 

‘Fuck-’ He cursed under his breath, letting off a breathy exhales, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his. At that moment you can truly say that Chuuya has never looked so gorgeous.

‘Need to taste you on my tongue doll- right now. ’ Oh- now he’s even bolder. Kissing was more than enough to send electricity racking through his being, but Chuuya was a greedy man when it came to you. After spending countless nights fisting his cock to the idea of his tongue buried deep into your soaked pussy he really can’t seem to be able to hold himself back anymore. 

Cutting straight to the point, all he cared about was tasting you, your own pleasure building his brick by brick. Besides, he swore he could most likely get off to pleasuring you—your pleasure his own.

You’re quick to hitch your leg up his shoulder, Chuuya’s breath hitching in his throat, fingers letting go of your wrists to instead dig into the subtle skin of your thighs. 

‘God- I could cum just from looking at you’ He cursed, and you see it in his eyes that he’s being truthful and it stirs the deepest blush onto your cheeks. Another moan of his name slips past your lips as he presses a series of kisses on your inner thighs, his eyes looking like he’s teetering on the verge of insanity, high on you and your scent. Lashes fluttering closed, he skillfully hooked a finger under your pantie moving it aside giving him prime view of your soaked cunt. 

‘Fuck- this wet just from kissing me, huh?’ He felt himself spinning, mind unravelling at the sight before him. You, on your back with your dress hitched up to your waist, a leg comfortably resting on his shoulder with your pretty pussy just waiting to get tongue fucked by him. 

‘How long you been wanting this, tell me princess’ He cooed such tease dripping from his tone as his eyes drank in the sight of your flushed face. 

‘Years..’ you confessed, as he chuckled the air that exited his lips caressing your drooling folds.

‘That’s it… that’s my pretty girl’ he purred, completely and utterly drunk on you, feeling you throb against his index finger collecting your slit, bringing it to his lips. He felt your fingers grasp his locks, gasps resonating throughout the luxurious room, before he slowly manoeuvred his finger up and down your slit, index delving into your cunt. His mouth gaped, as if entranced by the view of his finger disappearing into your pussy, your juices drenching him. It’s not long before he adds in his middle finger, almost salivating at the sight. 

‘Taking my fingers so well baby’ Chuuya praised, his tongue locked onto your pearl, pretty lashes of his fluttering shut, his hips grinding into thin air. Flicking his tongue against your poor fucked-out nub, Chuuya’s fingers were skilfully moving inside you, wasting no time to repeatedly abuse your sweet spot. 

’Mine — all fucking mine’ He possessively whispered, lips hungrily latching onto your clit, fingers relentlessly pumping in and out of you. You were bucking into his hand, à thin ring of cum coating his fingers. Eyes zeroed on your cunt so greedily swallowing his fingers, he babbled drunk on your pussy

’Made for me’ all of you, - Fuck’

Your body arched under him, every muscle tightening as the pleasure built and built, coiling inside you like a spring about to snap. Chuuya's fingers moved with such skill, as if he'd memorised your body long before tonight, knowing exactly how to bring you to the brink of release. His mouth on your clit, hot and demanding, had you squirming against him, but his strong hands kept you firmly in place.

‘Chuuya—’ you gasped, voice cracking with desperation. You were so close, oh so close to an  overwhelming climax. His name left your lips like a prayer, which only seemed to fuel him more, his grip on your thighs tightening as he fucked you with his fingers and  greedily ate you out like a starved man. 

Then suddenly, the  tension in your body snapped like a cord pulled too tight, and your orgasm washed over you in waves, pulling you under with such force that you could hardly breathe. You tried warning him, but you could babble moans of his name as your body trembled against him, and Chuuya never let up, his fingers still thrusting into you, dragging out every last ounce of pleasure until you were a shaking, gasping mess beneath him.

He groaned, feeling the way your walls clenched around his fingers, his hips grinding down against the bed in search of some kind of relief. He looked utterly drunk on lust—his face flushed, his lips wet with your juices, his eyes blown wide with lust and satisfaction.

‘You’re so fucking beautiful like this’ he rasped, pulling his fingers from you slowly, and bringing them to his lips to taste you again. He licked them clean, savouring the flavour of you as if it rivalled the finest wine.

You were still panting, your chest rising and falling with each laboured breath as you tried to come down from the high of your orgasm. Chuuya hovered above you, his body shaking with need, but he didn’t push you didn’t demand anything from you. He simply looked at you, as if the sight of you in this state of bliss was enough to satisfy him somehow.

Although,you wanted more- you needed him. After catching your breaths, you pushed him down, climbing on top of him. His eyes widened at your actions, a blush dusting his cheeks up to his ears as if he wasn’t just eating your pussy two minutes ago.

‘Need you inside me’  your hands made quick work of his dress pants as he sucked in a breath, eyes darkening further at your words. You could feel the hardness of him through the fabric of his underwear, the bulge leaving little to nothing to the imagination. 

‘A-Ah Fuck- wait-’ He cursed again, a whimper threatening to escape his lips as his gaze flickered between your beautiful angel-like face and your hand positioning him into your greedy cunt. A few strand of his long ginger hair stick to his face, cock already throbbing with anticipation to cum.

‘Won't last long I- got me so riled up earlier eating you-’ He bashfully mumbled, feeling beyond embarrassed only wishing that earth could open up and swallow him whole, looking off to the side. Cheeks now almost matching his hair. Truth was, he almost came from eating you out earlier, your soft moans of his name way more than enough to send him over the edge 1000 times over. 

His cock was so beautiful: flushed and leaking his precum dribbling down its shaft. Rubbing his tip against your soaked folds, Chuuya threw his head back against the pillow, eyes rolling into the back of his skull. His hands gripped onto your hips as if holding untold ear life, leaving crescent moon indents into your plush skin. He was desperately trying to suppress his moans and whimper, biting down on his lip almost drawing blood, until you slowly sank his length into you, seating on him.

A choked out gasp escaped his lips, curses filling the room, his hips gyrating upwards to meet your movements on top. 

‘S-So good to me’ He babbled out, drunk on your pussy, milking him, as if it was made to take him in. Cockhead kissing your cervix, he’s merciless, feets digging into the mattress to push his hips upward meeting your every thrust. Chuuya could revel in the feeling forever, whether it was the grip of your velvety wall around his pulsating cock, the way your lips parted shamelessly moaning his name like a mantra, or the way your tits bounced with every movement on his length. The pleasure was unbearable for the both of you already feeling your second orgasm creep out, impaling yourself on his cock at a faster and harsher pace. Your hands pressed against his chest leaning forward to bounce on him, and Chuuya swore he had been sent to the afterlife. 

‘C’mon baby- let me feel you cum on my cock-’ He choked out,and the words nearly sent you over the edge. His eyes met yours, and it was the way he gazed at you with such love  that finally gave you the slight push you needed to come undone on top of him. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every thrust of Chuuya’s hips upward  sent shockwaves through your body, and you finally came on top of him. Fucking you through your orgasm, the redhead finally halted balls deep, knuckles turning white as he gripped your hips with sheer force enough to leave bruises indicating he reached his limit too. 

‘’C-Cummin-’’ He gritted through his clenched teeths, body twitched releasing thick long ropes of cum inside your pussy, his release flooding you with warmth. Collapsing on top of his chest, his hand tangled into your locks, slowly trying to catch his breath. He felt like his heart was right about to burst straight out of his chest. 

For a moment, everything was still. The world outside didn’t exist—there was only you and Chuuya, wrapped up in each other, your bodies still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened.

And then, slowly, he cleared his throat, his eyes soft as they met yours. He wanted to say so much, yet his lips parted and his mind blanked looking into your eyes—your flushed face, parted glossy lips and doe eyes piercing right into his soul.You were so breathtaking, it completely made him lose his mind. Your fingers grazed the skin of his collarbone before you smiled softly speaking in a hushed voice

‘You wanna know something?’

‘Yea?’ 

‘If this is what happens when random creeps flirt with me on missions, I just might have to let it happen more often.’ 

Chuuya only chuckled, rolling his eyes, as his hand came to caress your hair lovingly. Pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead, he nuzzled your locks swearing that one day he’d make you his, and that this was only the beginning.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

+ back to masterlist

⋆ likes and reblogs are always super appreciated ⋆

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART VIII

— i love you, it’s ruining my life

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). angst!!! cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hello besties, here's the next part!! happy reading <3

masterlist!

Pedro hadn’t expected his career to take another sharp turn so soon after The Mandalorian. The call he received that night in January, while lying in a dimly lit hotel room in London, still felt unreal. Hazy, thanks to the Ambien coursing through him, but real enough to make him sit up in bed after the line went dead.

Something big was coming, and he could feel it in his bones. It would change everything—if things weren’t already good enough as they were.

A few weeks later, he was back in London to film The Bubble. Everything seemed to blur by—filming, meetings, and the quiet rhythm of his life with Julia. He hadn't expected to fall into a relationship so effortlessly, but here he was.

She was a producer he’d met during a project in Budapest, though nothing had happened between them until months later.

Late November, to be exact. By then, things had shifted.

Pedro was never good at deciphering if someone liked him or not, and maybe that was why, when she suggested coffee, he didn’t think twice. She was lovely—kind in a way that didn't feel overwhelming, and he liked the way it felt safe, uncomplicated. When she reached for his hand, the world didn’t spin beneath his feet, and that was comforting. It was normal, and maybe that’s exactly what he needed.

After that first coffee, there were more—turning into casual dinners, casual sex, easy conversations, and eventually, a steady progression toward something more.

By December, things had gotten serious, though Pedro still sometimes woke up disoriented, feeling as if he was living in someone else’s life. Julia kept him grounded. And though it wasn’t the kind of love that made him lose his breath, it was steady.

One morning, in early December, he woke to find a message from you. You’d mentioned him in an upcoming Vogue interview, a brief nod to his help in keeping you sane during those first chaotic months of the pandemic. Your publicist thought it might make a fuss for a while, and you didn’t want him to wake up and think someone had died or something.

Nothing too big, P, just the usual storm. Call when you’re back in the States. Miss you.

Pedro stared at the message for a long time, debating. You’d always known everything about him. Every high, every low. But now? There was Julia to consider. He sat on the edge of the bed, Julia still asleep next to him, the London sky a dull gray through the curtains. He’d thought about telling you about her for weeks—maybe he should’ve before New Year’s—but it was easier to let the conversation slip away.

Until it didn’t.

That night, at Oscar’s New Year’s party, when you found out about Julia, he could see it in your eyes—the hurt, the shock, the confusion. You didn’t say much after that. Just told him you hoped he was happy, and if he was, that would be enough.

But it didn’t feel enough.

Not then, not now.

•••

Back in London, the routine of it all began to suffocate him. He spent his mornings reading lines, drinking bitter coffee, and answering the inevitable buzz of questions about his relationship status. He didn’t care to comment. He didn’t want to make it official in a way that felt like another announcement to the world. His job was to act, not live his life on a stage. Still, the headlines rolled out, and his relationship with Julia became another topic of conversation.

The days passed in a blur, but something bothered him. You had gone silent. Completely. Not only from his life but from social media, from the public eye, from everywhere. He called on your birthday. Oscar had mentioned you hadn't planned anything for the day, not that he knew off, and Pedro found himself standing on the cold balcony of his hotel room, dialing your number with a strange urgency.

You picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Your voice sounded far away, thin and almost unfamiliar, like a melody he had forgotten.

“Hey.”

There was a beat of silence, a pause where recognition should have clicked into place. Instead, you sounded distant, hesitant.

“Oh. It’s you.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. Did you delete my number?”

A soft shuffle on the other end, like you were shifting in place, caught off guard. “No, uh, I just picked it up without looking who it was.”

He leaned against the railing, gripping the phone tighter as if it could bridge the distance between you. The cold metal beneath his fingers bit into his skin, grounding him, though your absence felt like it was growing by the second. "Happy birthday, mi amor."

“Thank you, Pedro.”

The way you said his name, the clipped tone, made something stir in his gut, but he shook it off.

“You doing anything? I heard you didn’t have plans.”

“Nothing really, maybe over the weekend,” you replied, but there was a softness in your voice that didn't match the words, like you were choosing them carefully, holding something back. “I know you’re in London; that’s why I didn’t—”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t call,” he interrupted, leaning against the cold railing. His free hand found his hair, fingers tugging at the strands, trying to steady the unease creeping in. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been... You know how it is.”

Another long pause. For a moment, all he heard was the faint rustling on the other end, like you were curled up somewhere small, the space between you both stretching impossibly wide. He didn’t notice the silence for what it was—didn’t notice the way it wrapped around your words, cloaking the pain underneath.

“I do,” you whispered. It wasn’t an agreement; it was resignation. "Listen, I have to go. Say hi to Julia for me."

You hung up quickly, the words leaving him cold. The last part stung in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Days turned into weeks, and though you stayed in touch here and there, your conversations felt different. Lighter. Less personal. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did. The less he tried to think about you, the more you occupied his thoughts, living in the corners of his mind where you had always been. It felt like torture, the way your presence always lingered even in your absence.

When Pedro finally posted about landing the role of Joel Miller, the flood of congratulations came pouring in, but only one comment left him reeling.

So happy for you!!! You’re gonna kill it.

It was from you. Simple, encouraging, and yet it twisted something inside him.

His birthday arrived not long after, and he found himself back in LA, where his friends greeted him with a backyard party under the stars. Sarah held a cake with a single candle, and as everyone cheered, Pedro smiled, but there was an immovable weight in his chest.

Later that night, after the crowd had dispersed, he and Julia escaped upstairs to his room. They ended up half-dressed, tangled on his unmade bed. She smiled at him afterward, her gaze hazy with affection. “Happy birthday,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest.

Pedro wanted to stay in that moment, to let it be enough, but his mind wandered. He had that feeling of wanting to be trapped in one place, wanting to dig his heels in. It didn’t need to matter that that reality was waiting for him outside the door. It didn’t need to matter that you hadn’t called.

April 11, 2021

London, England

Pedro’s mood had been darkening for weeks now, but if Julia had noticed, she didn’t say a word.

She’d taken on a slew of new projects, coming home late most nights, leaving him to his thoughts and the silence that clung to their flat like fog. Pedro found himself pacing the empty rooms when she was gone, unsure where to place himself in her absence. He felt the weight of insomnia closing in again, the recognizable ache behind his eyes making the hours stretch painfully long.

That day, however, his focus had shifted. He was set to present Best Foreign Film at the BAFTAs, and his stylist had dressed him in a Prada tuxedo coat, a crisp white shirt, and skinny-fitting suit trousers. He looked sharp, elegant even, and for the first time in days, Pedro felt something close to confidence.

He and Julia arrived at the event together, but they didn’t pose for pictures side by side. Still, photographers captured fleeting moments—Julia holding his hand as they stepped out of the car, a quiet laugh between them under the canopy of flashing cameras. By the next morning, their images were all over social media, sparking the inevitable buzz about their relationship.

Pedro ignored most of it.

Two days later, while sharing a quiet breakfast in a cafe with Julia, he opened Instagram out of habit, and your face appeared.

There you were, standing in the middle of some forest, your expression serene. The caption read: Surprise. A new album drops at midnight. In isolation, my imagination ran wild, and this is the result—stories and songs that flowed like rivers. I hope you love it.

The post had already gathered thousands of likes and comments, and Pedro’s chest tightened as he stared at the screen. The timing of it all was almost cruel, but it was the impact of your sudden reappearance that left him reeling. You had vanished from the public eye for so long, and now, with no warning, you were back.

That night, Pedro lay awake next to Julia, the persistent itch of insomnia dragging him out of bed. He moved quietly so as not to disturb her, slipping his earbuds in as he stepped onto the hotel balcony. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled up your new album. He hesitated for a moment, but he pressed play anyway.

For ten songs, Pedro was transfixed. Your voice wrapped around him, haunting and familiar, weaving tales of heartache and isolation. There was a rawness to your words, an unflinching honesty that pierced through the midnight air. He listened intently, picking apart the lyrics, wondering if they were about him, if the pain you sang about was shared between you. It felt like an open wound, and yet he couldn’t stop listening.

Each song was a confession. Each melody a letter never sent.

When it ended, Pedro sat in the dark, overwhelmed. The emptiness gnawed at him, and all he wanted was to call you, to talk, to hear your voice. But he didn’t.

A couple of weeks later, he found himself shamelessly googling you again, hoping for something—an interview, a post, anything—but there was nothing. You had gone silent after the album drop.

No promo, no press. Just the music and then nothing. He congratulated you once, a brief message saying how beautiful the album was. You replied with a simple, “Thank you. It means a lot.”

That was it.

July 10, 2021

Alberta, Canada

Pedro arrived in Alberta at dawn, the skies painted in soft hues of pink and orange. The cab ride to the hotel was quiet, his agent and hairstylist riding with him as they prepared for the long months ahead. Filming for The Last of Us was finally starting, and though Pedro was eager to begin, a deep nervousness tugged at him.

Julia hadn’t come with him this time, staying back in London for her own work. She promised to visit, but Pedro wasn’t sure how often. In her absence, he felt that familiar loneliness creeping in, the kind that terrified him, mostly because it left him alone with thoughts of you.

He checked into his room and sat heavily on the sofa, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes until his vision blurred. He needed to eat, to call his family, to ground himself in something, but instead, he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and settled back into the couch. His fingers hovered over his phone again, the compulsion to check your Instagram pulling at him like a bad habit.

But, like always, there was nothing.

Your only other post had been a month ago, thanking your fans for the love on the album. He had messaged you a couple of times—small, inconsequential exchanges that left him unsatisfied. He didn’t know what he was searching for in those brief interactions, but whatever it was, it felt futile.

Then, ten minutes later, like a sign from the universe, you shared an interview. A video with you talking about your creative process. Pedro couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed his laptop, another beer, and settled in.

As he watched, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You looked radiant, sitting across from the interviewer in the backyard of your California home. The conversation was easy at first, touching on the album’s success, but then it turned more personal.

"The pandemic was really rough, and also life in general, I guess," you said, your voice quiet. "I found myself post-breakup, isolated in a cabin in Calgary, and writing was all I had. But the inspiration wasn’t just from that breakup. It came from years of… things."

The interviewer asked gently, "You mean the breakup with your most recent ex specifically?"

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes dropping for a second. "It wasn’t entirely about that. I pulled a lot from my imagination, I guess. The lines between fantasy and reality blurred, and I found myself writing from perspectives that weren’t always mine."

Pedro’s heart clenched.

"There’s a song on the album," he continued, "the final track. It’s haunting. You sing about being hurt by someone you love but being unable to let them go. Can you talk about that?"

You paused, taking a breath before you spoke. "It’s a quiet resignation," you said. "That person and I, we hurt each other, but I love them. So, I guess that’s it. It felt like the right way to end the album."

Pedro’s world stilled. He realized, in that moment, what he had been searching for all this time. He had wanted confirmation, a sign that you still loved him. And with every word you spoke, you gave it to him.

Filming for The Last of Us began a couple of days later, and though Pedro threw himself into the work, your voice lingered, ghost-like, at the back of his mind. Days turned to weeks, and as production moved into September, the physical toll started to wear on him. He spent long hours on set; the Canadian cold started biting into his bones. Bella, his co-star, became a bright spot, their energy infectious, and though they bonded quickly, Pedro felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.

In the early mornings, when the world was still asleep, he would take walks to clear his head, the cold sunlight grounding him. Julia came to visit now and then, joining him on these walks, but they often ran out of things to say. He could feel the quiet disintegration of their relationship, like watching ice slowly melt into water. He didn’t know what they were holding onto anymore.

•••

When October rolled around, Pedro’s schedule clashed with the start of The Mandalorian’s third season, and it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to join the production on time. His agents scrambled to find a solution, but when Pedro’s stunt double was suggested as a replacement for the early scenes, he was left with an odd sense of detachment. And when his agent told him it had been your suggestion, something in him cracked.

The anger simmered for weeks. He felt foolish and abandoned, wondering if you had pushed him away to keep your distance. But then, just as the resentment began to harden, you showed up on set with two coffees in hand, flashing him a smile. "One iced caramel macchiato for me and one large quad over ice for you," you teased.

Pedro blinked, startled. He hadn’t expected your warmth. "Thanks," he managed, taking the coffee.

"You’re welcome," you replied brightly. "We missed you here."

"Did you?" he said, a hint of sarcasm slipping into his tone. "Because I heard it was your idea to keep me away."

Your expression twisted into confusion before you laughed. "I was just trying to make things easier. You were still filming, and I figured rushing back here would be a nightmare for you. I wasn’t plotting anything."

Pedro felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with the faintest trace of regret. "Well, in that case, I missed you too."

•••

For two seasons, your character hadn't seen his without the helmet. Today you were shooting the scene where, out of necessity, he reveals his face to you. It was written as a pivotal moment in your characters' relationship.

The moment the director called action, the air on set felt different. It wasn’t the usual hum of crew members shuffling in the background or the low murmur of cameras whirring. Instead, a heavy, almost sacred quiet descended, blanketing everyone as the scene unfolded. Pedro’s mind mirrored that stillness, a sudden and unnerving hush. It felt like everything outside of this moment ceased to exist, like time itself had bent inward.

And then—nothing. No words. No script. Just you, standing so close to him, your face inches from his, hands cradling his jaw.

You widened your eyes, a silent prompt, urging him to speak, to remember his lines. But all he could do was stare. He hadn’t been this close to you in months, hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch or the soft presence of your breath in what felt like a lifetime. His throat tightened, his words trapped somewhere deep inside. He knew the scene needed to move forward, but for one fragile moment, all he wanted was to keep you there, locked in this pocket of stillness, as if holding onto you would stop everything else from slipping away.

You read him, like you always did. You settled in, your hands still on his face, fingers pressing gently into his skin as if anchoring him. Then, softly, you filled the silence with a line—one that Pedro was sure wasn’t in the script, but it was perfect. You carried the scene, leading him back into it, your voice becoming the tether that pulled him out of the stillness and into motion. Pedro blinked, refocusing, forcing his body and mind to follow your lead as he finally delivered his line.

The scene moved on, but something lingered, thick and unsaid.

When filming wrapped for the day, the tension still simmered. You caught him at the edge of the lot, your expression unreadable as you approached him. Maybe you'll ask him why he froze like an idiot during that scene, or maybe you'll just walk past him without a word.

Instead, you simply asked, "Dinner?"

Pedro couldn’t say no. He never could when it came to you.

You ended up at a small sushi restaurant tucked away from the chaos of the city. The space was warm, softly lit, a sanctuary from the noise of the outside world. Pedro sat across from you, picking at a piece of sashimi, trying to focus on the conversation but finding it hard. You talked about the year you’d spent away from the spotlight and how you’d pulled back from everything.

"I mean, I’m doing this because I signed a contract," you said, lightly joking, but your eyes flickered with something that gave you away. "Disney has snipers; you know how it is."

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Pedro chuckled, though he could hear the sadness in your voice, the weight behind your words.

"If I could’ve gotten out of it too, I would have," you added, your tone quieter, more reflective. "I guess I just needed to slow down. I’m tired of it all."

"You even skipped the Oscars," Pedro replied, taking a sip of his drink. "That's how you know it's serious."

"Yeah, I love the Oscars. Excellent champagne."

Pedro watched you closely, wanting to dig into your words to pull apart the layers of exhaustion and sadness you were burying beneath the surface. He wanted to offer you some kind of comfort, to tell you that he understood—that he, too, had been feeling the weight of it all. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, the two of you ate in silence, the kind of quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable but spoke volumes.

There was something about being with you, even without words, that felt…right.

Later, as he lay in bed, his mind kept returning to you, to your confession. He wondered what you weren’t telling him, what you were holding back. But as much as he wanted to reach out to ask, he couldn't.

The next morning, Pedro was on a flight back to Canada. The weeks that followed blurred into a rhythm of cold, grueling days on set and long, sleepless nights. He threw himself into The Last of Us, trying to lose himself in the work, but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you crept back in. You were there, always, lingering in the corners of his mind, and Julia could sense it.

She didn’t say anything at first, but Pedro could feel it—the slow unraveling of their relationship. It wasn’t sudden, like a crash or an explosion; it was quiet, a gradual dissolution. Every day, a little more slipped away. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from this relationship, from this life they had built together. Did he think they would buy a house, start a family? Had he ever really seen himself in this life with her, or was it just easier to disappear into hers?

Finally, Julia said it. Brightly, almost too casually. "I think maybe we’re done."

Pedro didn’t fight it. He didn’t have the energy. "Yeah," he murmured. "I think that was my fault."

•••

Christmas and New Year’s came and went in a blur. Pedro went to Chile for a few weeks, seeking the comfort of home, of family. There, surrounded by his siblings and nephews, he found a brief pause, a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a while. But even in the warmth of his childhood home, memories of you still haunted him. He saw you in every corner, heard your laughter in the echo of the hallways.

One night, after too many glasses of wine, he called you on a whim. It wasn’t about anything important—just small talk, catching up. You sounded good, better than the last time you spoke, but there was a distance in your voice, a kind of finality that made Pedro’s heart sink. For some reason, he didn’t tell you about his breakup. He kept that part of his life hidden, not out of secrecy but because it felt irrelevant at that moment.

What would it change? What did it matter?

You didn’t talk much after that. Your silence felt deliberate, not like a missed connection but a closed door. It was as if you were telling him, without saying it outright, that this was where it ended.

In the days that followed, Pedro did his best to push you out of his mind, but it didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep back in. They always did. Anger. Sadness. Regret. They whispered in his ear, insidious and unrelenting, reminding him of what he had lost, of what he could never quite hold on to.

February 7, 2022

Los Angeles, California

The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-packed, with clothes spilling over the edges like an unspoken reflection of your mind. Each item you folded and placed inside felt heavy, as if carrying pieces of the last year with you. Taylor sat cross-legged in the chair by the window, scrolling through her phone while talking, but her words barely reached you over the noise in your head.

“I’m surprised you said yes, that’s all,” she said, her voice light with curiosity. “You’ve basically been a hermit for a year now.”

You laughed softly, your hands smoothing over the fabric of a sweater. “I needed the break, you know that. ”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push yet. You were grateful for the acceptance, even if you knew she was waiting to bring it up again, the same way she always did.

“One day, you’ll tell me what really happened,” Taylor continued, her voice taking on a familiar teasing edge. “You'll tell me what had you sulking at home like a sad Victorian poet for a whole year.”

You folded another shirt and placed it in the suitcase before responding, “I’ve told you countless times. Nothing happened other than…he got a girlfriend, and I stayed out of the way. That’s it.”

Taylor squinted at you as if she didn’t quite believe it, her eyes narrowing with the kind of suspicion only a close friend could afford to show. “Aha,” she said slowly, drawing out the sound.

You rolled your eyes but smiled.

“I wasn't sulking,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light. “I was…relaxing. It was my year of rest and relaxation.”

She chuckled at that. “Good one, smarty pants."

Outside, a breeze rustled through the palm trees, carrying the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of LA traffic. You imagined the street below, the shuffling of photographers leaning against their cars, lighting cigarettes, and murmuring to each other. They had become a permanent fixture, appearing gradually over the months, staking out your house like ghosts waiting for you to return to life.

It never ceased to surprise you how much people cared about what you did off-screen. You couldn’t just let your work stand for itself. No, you had to prove yourself over and over again, reminding the world that you were still an asset, still someone worth admiring.

You shrugged, half-smiling, but there was something sad in it. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m only doing this because I've been dying to work with this director, and it’s a closed set. Once those eight weeks are up, it’s back to my hermit status.”

Taylor shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “So we’re missing the Oscars again this year?”

You threw a pair of socks at her, chuckling. “Seems like it.”

But inside, everything wasn’t as lighthearted as your words. Last year, you’d taken a step back from the spotlight, and while you didn’t want to attribute it to the hurt you were feeling over Pedro, the truth was, it had everything to do with him. Well, at least a huge chunk of it. It hurt not to have him. It hurt to see someone else kiss him, hold his hand so freely, so easily. The pain wrapped itself around you like a second skin.

The world expected you to bounce back, to emerge from this self-imposed exile with a smile and a perfect soundbite. But the truth was messier. You had spent a year nursing a heart that hadn’t fully healed. You loved Pedro in a way that still hurt, in a way that sometimes made you feel like a child who didn’t understand why they couldn’t have the one thing they wanted most. You wanted to be the bigger person, the one who could let him go gracefully, but instead, you had hidden.

You were blue all the time. Some days were okay; some days you barely got out of bed.

There were moments it felt paralyzing. The weight of the world outside your window, the expectations, the love you still felt for him—all of it crushed you. Some days, you simply couldn’t move. You stayed curled up in the safety of your blankets, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before someone intervened. Your PA was that someone.

She didn’t push you at first. She’d just knock on your door, leave food outside, and ask if you needed anything. You’d spent three weeks in your room, moving only to get water or occasionally sit by the window.

One afternoon, Renata came in and found you in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. She placed a sandwich she brought on the counter and looked at you, her voice careful, but firm. “You need to talk to someone.”

“I’m talking to you,” you replied simply, taking a sip of water.

“No, you know what I mean. A professional. It’s okay if you don’t feel…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

“I’m fine,” you said, starting to walk toward the stairs.

“You’re not going to eat?” she called after you.

“Not hungry, but thanks,” you mumbled, disappearing into your room again.

But Renata didn’t let it go. She pushed gently, week after week, until finally, you let her schedule an appointment. She promised not to say anything to anyone, especially Taylor. You didn’t want to worry her.

The word depression had seemed too big to say aloud, too heavy, but that’s exactly the word your psychiatrist had used.

“You’ll need to take these every morning,” he said, handing you a small prescription bottle. “And it would be good to write how you feel. Keep track of things.”

You sat there, legs crossed in an oversized chair, staring at the prescription bottle in your hand.

•••

You watched from the sidelines as Pedro continued to rise, landing roles in The Last of Us, becoming the face everyone adored. You were thrilled for him, of course, but the distance between you felt insurmountable.

The only interaction you had was through a comment on his Instagram post, and even then, you weren’t sure if it meant anything. You didn't dare to call him on his birthday; you didn't want to stain his day with sadness. Every time you looked at your phone, tears threatened to spill. You felt as if the moment he spoke into the phone, you might collapse.

He's better off; he might not even notice.

The album you dropped in the spring had been a release of every emotion you hadn’t been able to speak aloud. Each song was laced with love and loss, heartbreak and longing; every note was a confession you’d never let yourself voice. You wondered if he listened to it—if the lyrics registered with him, if he knew they were about him.

That same week, you saw photos of him in London, holding her hand. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

The months passed in a blur of avoidance. You busied yourself at home with anything you could find that didn’t involve thinking about him. You did the one interview your publicist insisted on. It was with Zane Lowe; you liked him, so it was mostly okay. You found yourself talking about the songs you wrote during that time. As you listened to your own words, you realized that the music had given you a voice when you felt silenced by heartache.

It was a bittersweet realization.

By October, filming for The Mandalorian had loomed on the horizon, and when you found out Pedro was still tied up in Canada, you suggested beginning production without him. It felt easier that way, like a reprieve. But when he finally arrived on set, the connection between you two still crackled beneath the surface. There was an unspoken understanding in the way he looked at you during that intense scene—the one where your character saw his face for the first time. He froze, and you wondered what was running through his mind—what thoughts had stopped him from continuing.

You hesitated, but after the scene wrapped, you found yourself asking him to dinner. It was a slippery slope. You could pretend you were okay all you wanted in the brief moments between takes, offering coffee and smiles, but no one saw right through you like him.

Still, you asked. It was a small gesture, just a way to extend the fragile thread of connection between you, to hold onto him for a little longer before he left again.

But you’d learned how to stay in your lane. You’d learned how to love him from a distance, how to let him be happy with someone else. It was an act of love, really—letting him go, stepping aside to give him the space to live a life that didn’t include you. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Taylor’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Do you think you could be a hermit in Greece next? I could use a vacation.”

May 29, 2022

Los Angeles, California

Between promoting The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and wrapping up the final scenes of The Last of Us in Canada, he had little time to do, well, anything else really.

It was late May, just after the Star Wars Celebration. He’d worn a blue two-piece set that felt more like pajamas than anything formal, which was fine by him. Comfort was the priority these days.

But something was missing. You. You hadn’t been there. Out of everyone from the cast, you were the only one absent, and that absence settled like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

"She’s just taking time off," he’d tell himself, repeating the words like a mantra. “She’s probably busy; she's okay.” But the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave him alone.

Pedro had even caved one evening, calling Taylor. It had been late, after a full day of press, his voice rough from interviews and late-night whiskey. He had only meant for it to be one drink. But then he thinks back to the fact that you've plagued his dreams every night this week and that there was a song he kept hearing repeatedly that reminded him of you, and one drink had turned to three, and now here he is.

“Taylor?” He had sounded more vulnerable than he intended. “Is she... I mean, everything’s okay, right?”

Taylor had reassured him, of course, her voice patient, telling him you were fine, that you just were busy. Pedro wanted to believe her, but it gnawed at him. Something felt off.

He still woke up some mornings with the urge to tell you something, a joke he heard or a weird dream he had.

•••

By August he found himself in Spain, the arid heat of the desert sinking into his skin as filming for Strange Way of Life began. The project felt like a strange departure—something raw and gritty, something that required his full attention—but even then, in quiet moments between takes, his mind wandered. He’d sit in his trailer, his phone in hand, thumb hovering over your contact name, but the messages stayed unsent.

The days passed in a blur of rehearsals, early morning call times, and late-night script revisions. He spent his downtime with Ethan, exchanging stories over beers. But there was a quietness to Pedro that hadn’t been there before—a missing piece of him he couldn’t quite place.

•••

November 22, 2022

Miami, Florida

The night was sweltering; even by late fall standards, the air was thick and humid. Pedro was grinning, wearing a loose-fitting animal print shirt that made him feel playful, like he was stepping into some exaggerated version of himself for the evening. Lux was by his side, vibrant as always, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses as they arrived at a wine event.

But it didn’t take long for Lux to notice the shadow that hung over him.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, side-eyeing him as they sipped their drinks by the bar.

“I’ve been busy,” Pedro answered vaguely, swirling his glass and watching the amber liquid catch the light.

“Sure,” Lux replied, smirking. “And when are you both going to stop being idiots? It’s getting tiresome, hermanito.”

Pedro nearly choked on his drink, laughing in surprise. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Lux’s voice was matter-of-fact, cutting through his defenses with that typical bluntness only siblings could pull off. “You and her. It’s obvious. To everyone.”

Pedro sighed, leaning back against the bar, the Miami night buzzing around them. “It’s not that simple.”

Lux raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re both so afraid of what might happen that you’re stuck in this limbo. It’s ridiculous. Why let it get this bad?”

Pedro stared into his glass, her words echoing in his head.

"Because I love her," Pedro finally admitted, his voice quieter, weighed down by the truth. He stared down at his drink, swirling the ice around the glass. "I love her so much I’m willing to let her go."

Lux didn’t say anything.

Pedro shook his head, a bitter smile playing at his lips. "I would only hold her back. I know her so well. She’d sacrifice things just to be with me, and I can’t let her do that. I would only hold her back. She deserves so much better."

Lux tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And what if what she wants is you? What if she’s out there feeling the same way, thinking she’s the one who isn’t good enough for you? Do you ever think about that?”

Pedro let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "Of course I’ve thought about it. Every day. But what if I’m wrong? What if she gives up things she shouldn’t for me? I can’t let her do that, Lux."

Lux leaned in closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Maybe it’s not your decision to make. Maybe she deserves the choice. Don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant to assume what’s best for her without even asking?"

Pedro met her gaze, feeling exposed. “I just... I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want to ruin her life.”

Lux smiled, but it wasn’t pitying. It was knowing, soft around the edges. "You’re not ruining anything by loving her. But keeping it to yourself? That’s where the damage is, hermanito. You think you’re protecting her, but all you’re doing is pushing her away. And trust me, that hurts more than anything else."

He had always been so afraid of losing you, so terrified of not being enough, that he hadn’t even realized how much distance he had created.

Lux’s voice softened again, the words cutting through the noise in his mind. "She deserves better, Pedro? Maybe. But who says you don’t deserve her, too?"

a/n: please like, reblog and comment! i love reading your thoughts!! next part will be posted in a bit ;) aaaand something might be happening ;)

[libingan]

need this man so bad guys why is he so fucking sexy and cute and handsome and hot

kyle garrick the man that you areeee

the room is bathed in soft moonlight, casting pale shadows across the bed. you wake up with a deep, insistent ache pulsing through your body, growing stronger by the second. the heat between your legs is sharp and demanding, making you shift restlessly under the covers. you’re wearing sweatpants and a loose shirt, but the fabric feels too restrictive, adding to your discomfort. you try to ignore it, squeezing your thighs together, but it only heightens the need, leaving you frustrated and breathless.

with a quiet, desperate sigh, you slip your hand beneath the sheets, sliding it down to where you need it most. you start to rub slow circles around your clit, hoping to relieve the ache. the sensation is almost too much, making your breath catch, but it’s not enough. the pleasure teases you, just out of reach, and you feel frustration mounting.

your gaze drifts to kyle, lying peacefully beside you, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. he looks so serene, lost in sleep, and you hesitate, not wanting to disturb him. but the burning need between your legs is relentless. you can’t take it anymore.

with a quiet curse, you reach out and gently shake his shoulder. “kyle,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of need and embarrassment.

he stirs slightly, blinking sleepily but not fully awake. “hmm?” he murmurs, his voice rough from sleep as he turns toward you.

“kyle,” you repeat, shaking him a bit harder. “wake up, babe.”

he blinks again, eyes half-open, but he doesn’t seem to fully grasp what you’re saying. he shifts slightly, mumbling, “what’s wrong?”

you bite your lip, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “i… i need your help,” you say, your voice more insistent this time. “i’m so fucking horny, kyle.”

kyle’s eyes flutter open wider, and he finally seems to grasp the situation. he blinks, his expression shifting from sleepy confusion to a slow, knowing smile. “oh,” he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice as he shifts closer. “that so, baby?”

his hand moves to the waistband of your sweatpants, slipping beneath the fabric. you shiver at the touch of his warm fingers against your bare skin. he starts with slow, deliberate circles around your clit, his thumb moving in a way that makes your breath hitch. the sensation is overwhelming, sending jolts of pleasure straight through you. you arch into his touch, a quiet moan escaping your lips as he continues to play with you, his fingers skilled and confident.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” kyle murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he watches your reaction. he presses down a little harder, his thumb rubbing firm, slow circles that make your legs tremble. the tension inside you builds rapidly, your body responding eagerly to his touch, the pleasure coiling tighter with every movement of his fingers.

you try to stifle the sounds that threaten to escape, but it’s no use. a quiet, desperate whimper slips out as his pace quickens, his thumb moving in just the right way to drive you closer to the edge.

“kyle,” you moan, your voice breathy and pleading. “please, i need more. i need you inside me.”

he chuckles darkly, the sound low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “so fucking needy,” he whispers, his voice laced with amusement as he teases your clit with a light flick of his thumb. “so pretty like this, love,”

you can barely manage a nod, your body trembling with need as he continues to toy with you, pushing you closer and closer to the brink. the pleasure is overwhelming, your mind going blank as you focus on the feel of his fingers, the way they move against you with practiced ease.

kyle’s fingers slip down, sliding through your slickness before gently pressing inside you. the sensation is a shock, making you gasp as he starts to move, thrusting slowly, deliberately.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice rough with arousal as he adds another finger, stretching you in a way that makes your toes curl. his thumb never leaves your clit, continuing its relentless pace as his fingers pump in and out of you, hitting that sweet spot deep inside that makes your vision blur.

the tension builds rapidly, the pleasure so intense it borders on unbearable. your hands clutch at the sheets, your body arching into his touch as you’re pushed closer and closer to the edge. you’re desperate for release, feeling the pressure inside you tighten unbearably.

“please,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “please, kyle, i-i’m so close.”

“come on, love,” he whispers, his voice filled with dark promise as he drives you toward the brink. “let go for me.”

his words are the final push you need. the tension snaps, and you’re thrown into a powerful orgasm, your body convulsing around his fingers as pleasure crashes over you in waves. you cry out, your vision going white as you’re consumed by the intensity of your release, your mind blank, the world fading away.

kyle doesn’t stop, his fingers continuing their relentless rhythm as he draws out every last bit of pleasure, pushing you through the aftershocks until you’re left trembling and spent, your body collapsing against the mattress. only then does he slow, his touch gentle as he eases you down from the high, his lips brushing soft, comforting kisses against your forehead.

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. his hand strokes your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring. “you okay?”

you nod weakly, your body still humming with the afterglow. “yeah,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and breathless, a satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “thank you.”

kyle chuckles, the sound warm and comforting as he presses a kiss to your temple. “always,” he replies, his voice a soft promise.

he pulls the covers over the both of you, tucking you into his embrace as he settles back down, his hand resting possessively on your hip. “now, let’s get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle command.

you nestle into his warmth, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. the tension is gone, replaced by a deep, satisfying calm, and as you drift off, you hear kyle’s soft, steady breathing lulling you into sleep. the night is peaceful once more, the only sound the quiet rhythm of your breaths mingling with his as sleep claims you both.

[myungjaes-luvv]

I was thinking about bully! Sunghoon or Jay

One day he gets too angry and horny and decides to fuck you in an empty classroom or a bathroom stall! >_<

wow what a BANGER idea🫠anyway i wrote jay for this one hope you like it!

warnings: jay kind of forces himself on reader but it’s consensual anyway, the nickname ‘doll,’ semi-public?, unprotected sex (but its not explicitly mentioned), kind of rushed towards the end because i lost motivation oops

hard hours + requests: open (bnd, enha, &team)

the sound of the school bell rang through the halls as students scramble to get to their next class. you carefully zip your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, leaving the classroom to get to your last class of the day. at least today was almost over.

you kept to yourself mostly, having a bad tendency of looking at the floor as you walked, avoiding any and all eye contact. you also zoned out…a lot.

you were mid thought, wanting to go home already, to leave this hell on earth when-

“shit- sorry!” you apologized frantically, your notebook flying out of your hands and onto the floor. you didn’t even know who you were apologizing to until you looked up.

fuck.

of all the people you could have ran into, it had to be him.

“watch where you’re going, christ,” jay scoffed at you, watching you kneel down to pick your notebook up.

“sorry…i wasn’t looking-” you tried, but he cut you off.

“yeah, obviously. fucking klutz,” he rolled his eyes as you stood back up.

you went to walk past him to carry on from this horrible interaction but he had blocked you, putting his arm in front of you and pushing you back.

“hey- wait, what are you doing?” you asked him.

you looked up at him, making eye contact with him, confused, and maybe a little scared.

“i think it’s about time i finally put you in your goddamn place,” he scoffed at you.

you were about to protest or ask a question but you didn’t have time to even gather your thoughts before he was shoving you backwards into a dark and empty room, shutting the door behind the both of you.

“what the fuck are you doing jay?” you asked, more scared of your bully now than you ever have been before.

“easy, doll,” he said, sounding way too calm for the situation he has you in.

he soon enough had you backed to the wall, his hands on your hips as your bodies were impossibly close.

this was…weird, and wrong. so incredibly wrong…but why was it so incredibly hot.

you could feel his breath against your skin as his lips just barely grazed over your neck.

“jay what are you-” you tried, but were cut off when he pressed a harsh kiss to your lips. your eyes were wide open as you tried pushing him away, still confused out of your mind as to what was happening.

“damnit, i said i’m putting you in your place, can’t you listen to me?” he said, his voice low.

as if your body had a mind of it’s own, you nodded. why on earth did you nod.

it wasn’t long before he began to palm at your clothed core, you could feel the heat radiating off of you as you bit back a whine.

“wanted you for so long…” he said, hooking his finger into the waistband of your pants and pulling down.

“gonna finally take what’s mine, right, doll?” he asked, though you knew it wasn’t a question you were meant to answer.

his finger slipped between your folds, made easy by how wet you had become. you cursed your body for being so willing for him, feeling as though you had betrayed yourself.

you whined softly as he leaned in close to your ear, “all that because of me?” he teased.

you had a dying urge to push him off of you, but something inside was screaming to let him keep going.

he played with you for what felt like ages before he finally slipped a finger into your entrance, making your legs nearly buckle.

“already needing my help to stand?” he asked, his free hand on your hip to help support you.

you bit back another whine, “fuck…” you said beneath your breath.

he removed his finger, causing you to whine. it wasn’t long before he grabbed your waist and pushed you over one of the desk’s.

he sucked in a sharp breath as he put your ass on display for him, feeling you up. his cock was practically aching to be let free from his pants.

he palmed himself through the material before shuffling his pants down enough to let his dick free from the restraint.

he rubbed himself against your folds, causing you to whine, and not a thought of stopping him was in your mind, so desperate for his cock and you hadn’t even known until now.

“jay, please…” you whimpered.

“that’s right, beg for it,” he said in a low voice.

“please, need you so bad…” you begged him.

he finally slipped inside of you slowly at first.

you gripped the edge of the desk, feeling your legs threaten to give out as he entered you from behind.

he let out a shaky breath himself, “your pussy feels so tight around me, doll…” he commented, starting to push himself in and out of you.

the noises you had started to let out reminded jay of those from a porno, high pitched, whiny, and so fucking hot.

you couldn’t help but start to try and match his pace, fucking yourself back against him. he held your hips and used you for support, driving himself deeper inside of you.

your eyes rolled back as he moved a hand to the front of your pussy and began to rub at your clit.

“gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock,” he teased, speeding his hips up.

you couldn’t even answer or get a thought straight.

“got you so fucked dumb you can’t even speak, so cock hungry,” he said under his breath.

you could feel yourself getting so close, and you craved your release so desperately.

“jay- oh god- fuck…gonna-” you tried between moans.

“go ahead, cum for me, make a mess,” he told you.

after a few more thrusts, you were coming, your legs shaking, needing his full support to keep you up against the desk. he fucked you through it heavenly and as you clenched around him, he neared his release.

“gonna cum, holy shit,” he panted, fucking you roughly, causing your vision to white out.

he pulled out, fucking his fist to get himself to release before coming over your back and your ass, the sight almost enough to get him hard again.

the two of you caught your breath and cleaned yourselves up in almost complete silence, and before he left, you were about to make a comment until he spoke first.

“watch where you’re walking next time, klutz.”

[snailpebbles]

Charles Tries Piano Tiles - CL16

pairing: Charles Leclerc x long-time gf!reader

summary: it's bedtime and Piano Tiles is kicking your ass, so why not spread the gift to your loving boyfriend?

tags: vomit-worthy domesticity, purely fluff, yeah they're just too cute

a/n: this is kinda all over the place and ass but whatever

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

It's late at night, both of you tucked up into bed all cozy besides one another. Charles is reading some book he found at the local market, glasses you fondly refer to as old man spectacles propped on the end of his nose. Your arms are pressed together just like your legs are tangled beneath the soft blanket, the comfortable silence having been curated over your long term relationship. Charles loved the peace you brought into his life and how everything seemed to soften around you; every moment with you is one engraved in his heart, soul, and mind.

"Fuck!" The explicative comes out of the blue, your boyfriend startling next to you. As he glances over in confusion, his heart melts further. You look absolutely adorable with your little frustrated pout and furrowed brows. A smile tugs at his lips as he peers over your shoulder, only to dim once more to confusion.

"Love.. what are you doing?" He murmurs, watching your fingers tap little black boxes on a scrolling screen. A faint song plays from your phone, one he'd previously tuned out in favor of listening to your breathing; a sound that always soothes him.

"Piano Tiles." You mutter, too focused on correctly playing the Can-Can to look at your darling boyfriend. You've been trying to beat this song for God knows how long, the Can-Can haunting your dreams like Ferrari haunts his. At your response Charles leans closer, his warm breath brushing against your neck and cheek to distract you. From this, you mess up and the Can-Can mocks you from Hell.

"Why are you playing this game? I can teach you piano!" He offers, the idea making him light up in a way that relaxes the wrinkle between your eyebrows. You place your phone down beside you, knowing if you see that losing screen for one more second your phone will end up embedded in the wall. Charles, unaware of your seething rage at the children's game, seems absolutely taken by the thought of teaching you his passion.

"I have many books we can use and I'm sure you will love it.. oh, we can do duets!" He borderline squeals, already halfway out of bed as if it isn't almost twelve. You gently take his hand and pull him back, chuckling quietly.

"It's time for bed, remember?" A grin spreads across your face as a pout takes over his, his body slumping back beside you. Charles sulks, but then again, he sulks at everything. Knowing the perfect remedy to his silly dilemma that is time, you grab your phone and open the cursed app again.

"Would you like to play Cha?" The sickeningly sweet smile on your face should be noticeable, but Charles is too excited to learn something from you to care. Whenever you offer to teach him something, no matter how miniscule or simple, he suddenly becomes the most dutiful student with a slight (extreme) staring problem. He carefully takes your phone and, after a bit of direction, begins playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. He finds it easy, just like how his ego is easily inflated.

"My love, this is so simple. I promise that real piano is much more challenging, you would like it more." Charles exclaims, your earlier frustrations still not clicking with him. A wonderful, potentially cruel idea forms in your brain. That same smile spreads across your face and you rest your head on his shoulder to further lull him into a false sense of security you secretly use any excuse to touch him.

"Here's the one I was playing, maybe you can teach me it?" You click on the dastardly Can-Can, almost feeling pity at the naive confidence he displays. An excited smile glows on his face at the mention of teaching you; He'll take any excuse to spend time with you and getting to be squished beside you on a piano stool is a definite plus. When the song starts though, that confidence drains almost instantly. He manages to play for roughly seven seconds.

You giggle quietly as he tries again, and again, and again... and, you guessed it, again. By this point he's frowning and mumbling curses you don't think he even knows the meanings of, his shoulder tense beneath your cheek. Trying to draw him out of his relentless torture cycle, you gently kiss his stubbled jaw. Charles puts your phone down, all attention instantly on you as he relaxes.

".. Why would you introduce me to this game?" Charles asks, wrapping an arm around you to hold you closer. You cuddle into his side, tracing shapes over his white sleep shirt.

"Everyone needs Piano Tiles trauma, it builds character." You explain, peering up at him from his chest. Unable to resist such a cute sight, he kisses your forehead as his other arm comes around to hold onto your hip. A laugh bubbles in his chest though once he registers your words, only growing when he realizes you're fully serious.

"Really? You do this to me for character development?" Charles gasps as though you've offended every part of him, shaking his head.

"I can never forgive this crime my love." He tuts as you sit up a little. It's obvious what his charade is since he does it at any chance he can whether that be you forgetting a goodbye kiss or just bumping into him. A dramatized sigh escapes your lips as you cup his face, ready to plead for mercy over this horrendous offense.

"How can I make it up to you hm?" You hum, kissing the tip of his nose and giggling when it skews his old man spectacles. His nose scrunches at the peck and he glances up at the ceiling, clearly deep in thought. As he ponders what could give you retribution, you play around with his soft hair, giggling to yourself as you make pigtails and whatnot.

"I will forgive you if.." He dramatically pauses, of course, and you tap the top of his head as a mock drumroll. A goofy grin breaks through his serious facade before he fixes his face.

".. You let me teach you piano tomorrow." He says decisively. Obviously you saw this coming and can only pray he forgets (he won't). Charles can get.. passionate while playing piano and with you struggling to play alongside him.. well, you've fallen off the bench enough that he puts pillows down to catch you.

"Yes, yes alright." You groan, tucking yourself back up under his chin. He laughs quietly, knowing your exact train of thought. As compensation though he holds you extra close, arms tightly wrapped around you and legs hopelessly tangled while he rubs your back. You feel sleep tugging at your eyes, the steady heartbeat of your boyfriend only makes it harder to stay up. Wordlessly you reach a hand up to take his glasses off, the movement second nature from the many times you've had to help out the forgetful man. He murmurs a quiet thank you, followed by an 'i love you' that never fails to warm you right up. At your whispered reciprocation his heartbeat speeds up a tick, one that you can hear and makes the task of tomorrow worth it.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

[planetpedri]

pedri loves y/n but she refuses to believe that she deserves that love or can’t believe it

Let light be light — Pedri Gonzalez.

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Gn!Reader

Summary: After your last relationship left you certain you could never be loved, Pedri is determined to prove you wrong.

Word count: 673

Disclaimer/s: talks of stupid ex boyfriend, hurt to comfort sorta + hopefull ending

A/N: idk what to say this took me a while to come up with but hey! hi! this is the most beautiful piece of literature i’ve ever written.

Pedri’s head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees to hold said head up. You were so confusing. So, so, so unbelievably confusing. He’d just professed his undying love for you, and all you had to say was, “no, you don’t.”

Taking a deep breath, Pedri’s head lifts, eyes searching your downcast face. “What do you mean, ‘no, you don’t?’” His eyebrows scrunched together, the line beneath them growing deeper with your silence.

You rub your thighs with a sigh, trying to collect yourself. “Pedri, seriously, you don’t—“ a small, breathy laugh, “you don’t mean that.”

He scoffs, rubbing your face in an act of distress. “I don’t mean it, or you don’t want me to mean it?” Your lips pinch tightly. Well, shit.

“You’re sweet, you’re amazing.. you’re one of my best friends, but you cannot mean that!” Your hands lift in disbelief. “I mean, I know you care about me, that’s—you don’t love me.”

Pedri licks his lips, “why not? I mean, how could I not?” He didn’t understand how you could think like that. He’d done everything to show you how much he loved you, yet you were denying it.

Then it clicked.

“Is this about your ex?” Suddenly Pedri wasn’t just upset, he was annoyed, nearly angry. Your piece of shit ex had completely taken away your self worth. It’d taken months for Pedri to get you to move on from him.

But that was nearly ten months ago. He thought you’d gotten out of that mans grasp by now.

You’d grown silent, staring at your clammy hands. “I-“ another beat, “I do… love you. Pedri. And I want to believe that you love me too, but it’s not that easy.”

The mans heart skips a beat, feeling a little relief at the fact that it was at the very least, reciprocated. “Why isn’t it? I do everything for you, I try to do the things I know you love, I try to make you feel worthy of the love you deserve. So why isn’t it easy? Fuck,” he curses your name, “I love you.”

The desperation in his tone made your head shatter. Every ounce of what he felt was prevalent in that singular curse, in the way he said your name, in the way he said those three words.

Everything stopped. Your world stopped. Your heart stopped. Your breathing was stuck in your throat. Eyes flickering to Pedri, you take in the hurt written across his face. Yet even in all that pain, there was an overwhelming amount of love scribbled everywhere in bold.

You understood the depth of his emotions in that moment, your forehead creased, tongue darting out to lick your lips, and your eyes… God your eyes. Pedri couldn’t pull his gaze away. Glossed over and pleading.

You chuckle, “you certainly have a way with words,” A singular tear escaping your right eye. Pedri’s hand hesitantly comes up to your face, gently cupping it as he swipes the tear away with his thumb.

“I just need you to know how much I care.” He speaks softly, as if he was scared you would pull away from his touch. You didn’t. In fact, you leaned into it. A small smile appearing on your puffed lips.

“I think I have an idea.” You hum, moving your head to place a kiss to his palm. The small act of affection sending a swarm of warmth to Pedri’s stomach.

He didn’t think it was possible to feel as deeply as he did, but that small act, that small touch, your words… He was certain he would never feel this deeply for anyone else in his life time. For the rest of Pedri’s life, he would spend it loving you. He would use every second, every millisecond, proving just how worthy of love you really are. And the thing was, you believe it.

All you needed to do, was let the light in. Let light be light, and leave the gloom of the night behind you.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s , are all appreciated. Let me know if you want tagged in any or all of my posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl !

[ragnarokhound]

Trick or Treat! Thank you for sharing all your wonderful writing!!

Happy Halloween! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so happy you've enjoyed! <3 (holds jaytim up like the potato: i just think they're neat)

Okay this response got long so it's going under a cut, haha, enjoy!!

The curse is cruel. "You really think that you're a better Robin?" Jason sneers. His blood coats Jason's fist. "A better Robin?" Tim echoes through bloody teeth.

"That's what I said, pretender. Haven't you got any words of your own? You have to steal those from me too?" "Steal? From me too?" He gasps. The questions burn his mouth like acid, frustration and rage held prisoner by his traitorous tongue. Jason's brow furrows, then smooths in the space of an instant. "Pathetic," Jason taunts, abandoning confusion for disgust and disappointment. In a sharp, painful crack of his fist, the world goes black before Tim can agree. *** "How long has it been?" Jason says. It's been years. Smoke curls between the gaps in his cupped hands as the brief burst of flame dies to an ember, glowing vermillion at the end of his cigarette. "Long," Tim answers with a sigh. He can't even sign his own words, his hands always twisting into shapes first held by someone else's mouth. By the last person who spoke to him. The railing of the fire escape is icy beneath his elbows. He should have worn a thicker jacket, but he didn't have time tonight. Jason is leaving in the morning, and Tim wanted to see him before he goes. This new thing between them, this friendship on the cusp of something else— is fragile and hard-won. Tim wants to nurture it, to see if the warmth roiling under the surface can be coaxed to blazing life. Jason shuts his lighter with a snap. His shoulder is warm against Tim's. Tim watches him breathe in poison, and envies the poison. "And no one's figured it out? Who did this to you?" Tim rolls his eyes. "Figured it out," he restates flatly. Of course he knows who did this to him. Of course Bruce and the rest know. The who was easy. Fae and demons aren't subtle, and they aren't exactly commonplace. It makes for a short list to dig through. Jason grins, cherry-red and laughing at him. "Right, right. I mean, you ever figure out how to fix it? How to get your own words back? Yes or no," he tacks on helpfully. Only seldom does Jason remember to do that, to give Tim more options to choose from. It's not that he doesn't care, or that he isn't careful with his words. He just doesn't have to be. He's always had a knack for guessing what Tim means on the first try. Now that he isn't trying to punish Tim for using Jason's words like their his own. Like what he'd done with Robin.

Tim used to resent it, that of all the people in the world to guess what he's feeling, Jason Todd could do it best. Used to. Tim looks away. "Fix it," he murmurs. "Yes." Not that it matters. Jason cocks his head. His cigarette burns between his fingers, half-forgotten. "Why the fuck haven't you, then? If it were me—" Jason cuts himself off with a self-conscious laugh. "Ah, forget it. I'm sure you'd love to if you could, right?" Tim's eyes go wide. Jason's never said that to him before. One word of three that make the key. Tim knows what he feels. He knows how to break it. "And give the son of a bitch responsible a kiss in the teeth for good measure," Jason continues, oblivious to the effect of his words. Tim seizes Jason's arm, ignoring how he flinches. Hope is fleeting enough as it is. "Wha—" "Love to," Tim interrupts, urgent, heart tripping in his chest. "You..." He swallows, his throat closing up, not sure if he can say the last word. Not because of any curse, but because it's— it's too much. It's too bold. It won't work. So why not try? Jason stares at him, waiting for him to speak. "...kiss," he whispers. Tim begs him to understand. Jason raises his eyebrows. "...kiss?" Jason echoes softly, his voice thick. He cups the back of Tim's head in his free hand. "You want to kiss me, babybird?" He's relaxed a fraction, and Tim can tell he still doesn't get it. The one time he doesn't understand the full depth of Tim's meaning, and it had to be now. "Well, why didn't you say so?" Before Tim can express just how unimpressed he is by— Jason kisses him. He tastes like smoke and a hint of mint, and like skin and teeth and tongue. He licks into Tim's mouth when he gasps, and swallows every sound he makes. Like it's not enough to own Tim's words; he needs to own the rest of him as well. Tim doesn't even know if it will work. What makes a love true, anyway? When you've bled and fought for it, tooth and nail? When you didn't even want it at first, but you know, like it was inevitable, that you can't live anymore without it squeezing your heart in its fist? When magic cannot bind you anymore, because you don't belong wholly to yourself alone. When you've chosen to be beholden. When it was never a choice at all. The autumn air is freezing, but Jason's hands are searing hot on Tim's face, burning his cheeks with the shape of his fingers. Tim doesn't remember tucking his hands under Jason's jacket, or finding the broad stretch of his shoulderblades with his palms. But when he grazes the skin at the back of his neck, just above Jason's shirt collar, he shivers in Tim's grip. Jason pulls away abruptly, and Tim protests. "Do you want—" Jason started to ask. "Jason," Tim huffs, breathless. "Why'd you stop?" It rings in the air between them, clear as a bell. They both freeze. "...Tim?" Jason asks slowly. "Did you just—" "Jason," Tim says again, disbelieving. Then wondering. It's the first word that's belonged solely to him in years. The first word that's his. "Jason."

(For the trick or treat ask game! Send me a trick or treat ask and I'll share jaytim WIP snippets, or new 3-sentence -paragraph fics, etc :^) through the 31st!)