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bayjaruchel · 1 year ago

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Whammy Kiss Me (Whammy Hug)

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Pairing: Clapton Davis/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven isn't a pointless party game, after all. (3.9k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )

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It's not until the closet door shuts that you realize the gravity of your current situation.

You've been at the party for at least a couple of hours; you've grown used to the general noise. The slight haziness of the air. You're not quite hammered yet, but you've got one or two drinks in your system. Just enough that you can enjoy the feeling without worrying about the hangover tomorrow. Judging by the way that a couple of people had been giggling and swaying, not everyone who was sitting around the circle shared your sense of self-conservation.

Although it hadn't been the brightest outside— it was dim, but also somewhat illuminated at the same time with the neon lighting— the single lightbulb hanging above your heads doesn't do much against the darkness.

Yeah. Heads, plural.

Luckily, there's only one person in the cramped space besides yourself.

Unluckily, that person is one Clapton Davis.

It's not that you don't like him. Actually, you feel the exact opposite towards him, but that's not the point. It's just that— you know, you could spend seven minutes just sitting in silence, doing absolutely nothing— but you're suddenly hyper-aware of the way your knees are brushing. The way there's something in the air. Maybe you're just imagining it, but there's something … restless. Something like—

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when he speaks.

"So," he says, casually. As if you're not within necking distance in a cramped space. "You enjoying the party?" There's that same easy grin on his face. He's completely at ease, apparently. You're not sure if that's because of his ever-present (and sometimes misguided) confidence, or because he's used to stupid little party games like this. It's probably a combination of both.

"Yeah." You find yourself replying, almost on autopilot. "The punch isn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Clapton honest-to-god giggles at that. "It's still pretty shitty, though."

"I wouldn't say shitty."

"Awful, then." He raises his eyebrows. "Let's just say that it's an … acquired taste."

You can't help but smile. "Fair." He's right— you're pretty sure that the only people who actually enjoy it are the people who regularly attend these parties. Said people usually just come to get drunk, anyway, and the punch works wonders. Magically malicious.

"It's either that or cheap beer," he muses. "Or wine busted from mommy and daddy's fridge in the basement."

"Expensive wine?"

"Could be." Clapton shrugs, pulling his knees closer to his chest. You try in vain not to focus on his arms as he wraps them around his legs. Was it really necessary to wear the tank top? "Maybe," he says. "But I doubt that anyone here would wanna drink it."

You unconsciously mirror his posture. "Why's that?"

He snorts. "Too classy."

It sort of makes sense. You can't really see Josh from Calculus sipping a glass of pinot noir, much less enjoying it. Maybe one has to start from the bottom of the hypothetical alcohol pyramid and work their way up. The bottom, meaning Bud Light. Or Coors Light. All of the Lights.

"Cheap beer it is, then."

Clapton's grin is back.

"Unfortunately."

You're starting to relax, even if you can still feel your heart pounding whenever his eyes meet yours. Even if your eyes are lingering. When he reaches up to idly run his fingers through his hair, you can't stop yourself from wondering: is it as soft as it looks?

"How much time d'you think we have left?" He asks, just as you're attempting to reel yourself back in.

"Uh," you start. Nice. "I don't know— maybe, like, four minutes or so?" Spending a couple of minutes talking about drinks wasn't exactly the plan, but you're not exactly complaining. It's still better than awkward silence. You wonder— again— about how many times he's done this before. How long does it usually take before people give in?

The muffled music from outside has been reduced to just the thumping of the bass, and the rhythm matches your pulse.

"Four minutes," he echoes.

You can't hold his gaze, glancing down at your knees instead.

"Yeah."

You can tell when Clapton adjusts himself where he's sitting, but you have a feeling that he hasn't looked away. Not yet.

"What do you wanna do now?" He asks, innocently. "Four minutes is a long time."

When you look up, you're proven right. The faint glow of the light doesn't hide anything. It just makes everything feel vaguely dreamlike. And, okay. This is pretty cliche. But you've watched too many movies, seen too many shows— you know what that look is. That look doesn't mean that he wants to play rock-paper-scissors for the remainder of your time left.

"I don't know," you manage. "What do you want to do?"

His eyes dip briefly before flicking back up.

"I was asking you," he teases softly. "We've already had a pointless conversation." He mimes checking a box midair with his pointer finger. "Check. And we've already sat in silence for a couple of seconds." He repeats the motion on another imaginary box. "Check."

"Oh, ouch. Talking about alcohol is pointless?" You're a little amused. "So, what's left on the list?"

Clapton raises his eyebrows again.

There's a shift in the air.

"C'mon, don't tell me that you actually don't know." His tone's dropped to little more than a whisper, but due to your closeness, you can hear him loud and clear. Your brief bit of confidence wanes— your face warms, and you pause. Sure, you're well aware of what he's implying— but you're not sure if he's just joking around or not. When has Clapton Davis ever been serious, besides that one time he competed in a skateboarding competition in the sixth grade?

The lighthearted lilt in his voice is almost gone, though.

"I know what you're trying to say," you finally reply, matching his volume. And you do want to kiss him. You really, really do.

"Okay," he murmurs in return. "Well, that's good." He dares to smile, though you know you're weak to it.

"I don't have to ask you out loud, right?"

He definitely already knows the answer to that question.

"Yeah, you don't."

You've tuned out the outside world, muffled as it already was. The music and noise fade to a quiet hum. You can hear the quiet buzz of the lightbulb— the barely audible clattering as your back moves against the uncomfortable storage shelves— the sound of his sneakers scuffing against the hardwood floor—

"But if I did ask," he says, uncharacteristically hesitant, "you'd say yes?"

Your heartbeat thrums in your throat.

The seconds tick by— you know you can't wait. It's been at least a minute and a half—

"Just do it," you breathe.

And he does.

The first thing you register is how soft his lips are. Then, his hands— cupping your face— your own hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, tugging him closer. His hair is as soft as it looks. There's no slow build-up because there's no time for that. All you can think about is him— the little sounds he lets out as you kiss, the way he can't wait when you part, his breath briefly coming in soft pants before he leans in to capture your lips again. He tastes vaguely like beer, and maybe that would have bothered you if it were any other guy— but with him, you don't really care at all. His nose presses a little awkwardly against yours a couple of times, but he makes up for it with how eager he is. You know he's not a bad kisser; he's just impatient.

You lose yourself for a little while. It feels like forever. You wrap your arms around his neck, reluctantly dropping your grip on his hair. His hands start to stray, one anchoring itself behind your neck and the other traveling lower. And lower—

There's a loud series of knocks at the door.

Clapton's slower to react, and you're the one to pull back first. When you do, he leans forward to chase your lips— but stops upon noticing your expression. In direct comparison to you, he just looks giddy. Almost dazed. His hair's a little disheveled from earlier, and he hasn't let go of you yet.

"Huh," he says, before the door is yanked open.

You're immediately greeted by exactly what you had expected. Whistles. Catcalls. General hooting. Some "called it!"s and "you owe me five bucks, man!"s.

Clapton just grins, reveling in it all. Because of course he would. But, before you can get too embarrassed, he's getting to his feet, pulling you along with him as you both exit the closet— exiting what had previously been your own little world. Instead of just rejoining the circle, like part of you expects him to do, he pauses to lean over to you and whisper:

"Wanna go upstairs?"

You blink at him. He's still smiling— he almost looks star-struck. You feel that familiar swoop in your stomach. Maybe it's a stupid decision that you'll regret later, but—

"Okay," you agree.

The whistling doesn't stop as he grabs your wrist, making a beeline for the stairs. The son of a bitch takes them two at a time, and you do your best to keep up. Upstairs, it's quieter than it is on the ground floor, since there are fewer people up here; still, though, you can hear the music echoing through the hallway. A girl's laughter rings out, followed by a string of giggles.

It's not very hard to find an empty bedroom. You gingerly shut the door behind you, taking a moment to look around. There are one or two posters here and there, and a few photos placed on the dresser. Other than that, it's kind of bare-bones. A guest room, maybe? You sure hope so. While you're distracted, Clapton leisurely sits down on the bed, bouncing a couple of times.

"Cozy," he remarks, and you turn to look at him.

"You think?"

He grins. "Sure do."

You sit next to him on the mattress. It's not bad. For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking you in.

But he doesn't hesitate much longer, and leans in. Automatically, you angle your head just so. Unlike before, he kisses you in small pecks at first. One of his hands finds your cheek. However, as the minutes draw by, your kisses grow longer. More languid. He hums into your mouth, and you move closer. Closer, until your thighs are brushing his, and you're nearly off-balance, but it's still not close enough.

He draws back. This close to him, you can pick out his freckles. His eyelashes are long, framing half-lidded eyes. His lips are still parted.

"Should I lay back?" He asks, hushed. "Or do you wanna—"

"Go ahead," you interrupt.

Clapton flops backward onto the pillows, wiggling around to make himself more comfortable. When you think he's got himself in a good position, you crawl over him. The way he looks up at you— it makes you a little lightheaded, but in the best way possible. His hands find your waist. You can do little but settle against him, pressing your lips to his for the nth time.

Enthusiastically, he responds, and it's not long before your kisses grow messier. Needier. His hands wander, moving down to rest on your hips, and then lower— you let out a gasp when he squeezes your ass, and he uses the opportunity to pull you harder against him. You're no stranger to how strong his arms are, but, yeah, being on top of him like this is an entirely new experience. He's soft and firm in equal measures, his chest sturdy where it's pressed against yours. His hands are warm when he moves them under your shirt, up your back, making you shiver.

Bracing your hands on his torso, you sit up. For a second, he's confused, but that quickly fades away as you reach down to pull up your shirt.

"Holy shit," he murmurs. He scrambles to discard his tank top too, yanking it over his head. You were right— he's toned, but there's still a fair bit of softness there. Of course his chest doesn't have any hair, but at least he kept the trail. You lay back on top of him, the feeling of his skin against yours like this causing you to shudder again. Clapton's hands start to explore once more— square palms, strong fingers. It must be a little bit of an uncomfortable stretch for him, but his thumbs find your nipples, tracing soft circles.

You briefly enjoy the sensation. Then, your breath stutters when he gently urges you forward and then leans up so he can take them into his mouth. It must be self-indulgent for him, too, because he spends more time than necessary— sucking, flicking his tongue— but it's not like you're complaining.

When he finally stops, he presses a kiss to the middle of your chest before laying back on the pillows. You move back down, and can't resist the urge to kiss him in return. His jaw— his cheek, which makes him smile. He's already started hooking his fingers in your waistband, and your mild surprise must show on your face, because he abruptly stops.

"Sorry," he grimaces, "am I going too fast? I - Is that too much?"

Hastily, you shake your head. "Oh, no. Not at all. It's fine. Just— it just caught me off-guard."

"Okay." The worry vanishes in an instant. "Okay, I'm gonna."

You let him slide down your bottoms, and then take them off the rest of the way yourself. His shorts quickly join the rest of the clothing on the floor. Now, you're more or less sitting in his lap— he props himself up on the headboard, his breath heavy as you shift on top of him. With only a few layers between you, you're aware of the shape of him through his boxers.

You grind your hips with purpose, and he swears under his breath. When you do it again, he muffles himself by kissing you. The friction— you know it's not going to be enough— makes you more desperate, and it must be having the same effect on him, judging by the way he's slightly squirming underneath you. He's not quite thrusting up against you, but it's obvious that if he were in a better position, he would be. When your cunt brushes against him, catching at that angle, he moans openly into your mouth. You draw back only for air. If you could, you'd keep kissing him forever.

"You gonna let me— mmh — fuck you?" He pants, "ohmygod, 'cause if you don't, you— you are one sick bastard—"

You smile, although you want him just as badly as he wants you. You're doing a slightly better job at keeping yourself composed, after all. "I don't know," you murmur, "isn't this nice?"

Clapton bites his lip when you grind down harder this time. "I — well," his hands scramble on your waist, your hips, "it is pretty nice, but, like — I just wanna take the logical— shitfuck — next step, right?" He's looking up at you with wide eyes, "and you are gonna let me, right?"

"Right," you repeat, your breath catching when you roll your hips at just the right angle, "I am gonna let you, don't worry."

He's flushed a pretty pink, pupils blown wide, obscuring hazel eyes; you drink him in. "Thought so," he grins. Before you can ask, he's already answering. "And, uh. There's a condom in the pocket of my shorts, if you're worried about that."

You're in mild disbelief, abruptly halting your movements.

"In your—?"

Clapton looks a little bashful, though he's still grinning. "Could you just get it?"

You're already awkwardly dismounting his lap. "Sure, sure." True to his word, there's a condom in the left pocket of his shorts, and you fish it out without a problem. You glance back at him for a moment, and he doesn't even try and pretend that he wasn't staring. Oh, well. A little clumsily, you get back onto the bed, and move to straddle him again— but he gently stops you.

"Hey," he says, "can we switch places?"

You don't need much time to consider it. "Alright."

Now, he's hovering between your legs, and you're the one lying back. His gaze lingers, but he can't wait for much longer. You lift your hips, and he slides your last remaining piece of fabric off.

"Fuck," he breathes, just before he gets to work. With the pad of one of his fingers, he collects the wetness that had been gathering, then smoothly slides the digit into your cunt. Swiftly, he adds another, the sensation odd at first, but you know you'll quickly get used to it. When he begins to lightly trace your clit, it only makes it easier for you to loosen up— both figuratively and literally. And he's still adding another. Maybe three fingers aren't strictly necessary, but he crooks them, finding the spot that makes an almost embarrassing noise tumble from your lips.

You spread your thighs wider. You could definitely cum like this if you let him continue for a while. Glancing up at his face— oh, he definitely would if you wanted him to. He's torn between looking at how his fingers disappear into you and your face. How you're reacting to his touch. It's a little flattering. But as much as part of you wants to see what he's willing to do —

"I'm — " You feel yourself tense, and you barely stifle an involuntary moan when he thumbs your nub again. "I'm ready. You can —"

He doesn't even wait until you finish the sentence. He's already pulling out his fingers, tugging off his boxers. Your eyes are immediately drawn downward. Again, you're not surprised that he's shaved. Length-wise, he's probably around average, but girth-wise he's nice and thick. There's a bead of precum at the tip— if he wasn't already tearing open the condom with his teeth in a move that he's probably practiced before, you would've offered to blow him or something. Maybe some other time.

Your idle thoughts dissipate when he lines himself up and, with an amount of care that nearly belies his previous neediness, presses in. You both moan in unison— he sounds infinitely more strained. He takes a moment to catch his breath, but—

He starts moving. Little thrusts, at first. Then, pulling out more, pushing back in. His mouth falls open, and you can't resist throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him down. He groans, and you take it in, taking it with his increasing pace. It's good— his thumb finds your sensitive apex again, and that makes you jolt, but you know he's trying to give you a smooth progression between slow and fast. That's not what you want, though. Especially not now. Inches from his lips, you mutter:

"Don't hold back."

And that's all it takes. You can vaguely hear the bed creaking when he snaps his hips up to meet yours, roughly fucking into you with almost reckless abandon. Your kisses are sloppy, uncoordinated. But you wouldn't prefer it any other way. You know he probably wouldn't be making those noises if he didn't know they were muffled against you. Some are high-pitched— ragged gasps, moans, and at least one whimper. You also know you don't sound much different. He can't reach down to rub your throbbing clit anymore, due to how he's positioned, but the way that he's angled is more than satisfying in that regard.

You lose track of time, only aware of his hips colliding against yours— his lips, his hands — the way he's starting to babble. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this," he confesses in a rush, "god, your eyes. I could just — I could just look at you like this forever. If you could see yourself — nnh — you would know." A sharp intake of breath, a few kisses, and then, "Ohfuck. Shit. You're gonna ruin this forever for me. I can't — "

His rhythm is starting to falter. You can feel the heat pooling low in your gut, the tension that comes before the inevitable release. You tighten around him. His hands braced near your shoulders tremble, and you can see his biceps flexing with the effort of holding himself up like this.

"Please," Clapton chokes out, and he doesn't specify as to what he wants, but you have a pretty good idea. "I'm gonna— "

"Do it," you manage, despite your own climbing pitch, "c'mon, give it to me—"

"Fuck— " You feel him pulse. For a split second, you wonder how it would feel if he didn't have on the condom— but your thoughts are quickly overtaken, as you're not too far behind. You twitch, spasming around his cock as your mouth falls open. The tension peaks, the heat spikes—

He fucks you, gently, as you float back down, riding out your orgasm. Your eyelids flutter shut, and your breath slows, but your pulse is still a fast-paced staccato.

He gingerly lays on top of you, catching his breath. It's hot against your throat. The world ceases spinning, and you let out a long sigh.

He mimics it, and you glance down at him.

You're reluctant to say it, but seriously, this is someone else's house. Guest room or not.

"We should get cleaned up or something."

He blinks once, lazily. Seemingly, he's content to lay on your chest. Of course, he's the type to get sleepy after sex. But at least he makes an effort to respond. "Ugh," he says. And then: "Jus' gimme a minute or something."

You give him a look, and he surrenders. "Okay, fine."

He slips out with a wet noise, and you only miss the fullness for a moment. Getting off the mattress, he throws out the condom, then accepts the wad of tissues you hand him. It's not the best, but it'll have to do for now. You manage to get most of the evidence of your arousal off before pulling back on your clothes. There's a mirror, thankfully, so you go to try and make yourself look less … fucked. Not that it would really matter. There are definitely people in worse states.

Clapton stands next to you, but doesn't even try to fix his hair. On him, it looks fashionably disheveled, anyway.

It's silent, before he interjects:

"Is this … gonna be just a one-time thing?"

The strange apprehensiveness is back, and you chance a glance at him. He's not meeting your eyes, but you're sure he's looking at you in the mirror's reflection.

"I don't know," is all you can think to say, "do you want it to be?" A beat. "We could totally go back to being just sort of friends, if that's what you want."

Clapton visibly swallows. "I … "

You wait, patiently. He takes another few seconds.

"I liked that," he mutters, "a lot. And I— I meant all that stuff. About you."

He's still not meeting your eyes. It makes you pause.

"I liked it too," you reply, softly.

The look he gives you next says it all. You know he's not big on old-school romance. He's not big on flowery words— his English grades can certainly attest to that. He's more of an action-oriented guy. Even if you don't get a verbal confession just yet— and you know you will, just not now— you suddenly understand what he's trying to convey. So, you pull yourself together and throw caution to the wind.

"You wanna get out of here?"

He beams.

#clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x you #clapton davis imagines #clapton davis smut #josh hutcherson x reader

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heeheegf · 10 months ago

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Family’s friend- Lee H.

leeheeseungxfem!reader

heeseung and reader are “friends”, or better said, their families are friends. this up until they end up in the same room while being in a holiday all together.

warnings_ mention of smoking,cuss words, pet names,kissing,doggy position,fingering,breeding,aftercare,reader is very shy and innocent,heeseung is experienced.

reader is 18, heeseung is 23

minors DNI,mature content

i’ve written this at 2 a.m. so prolly there are some mistakes

“mom do i really have to share the room with him?” she says talking to her mother on the phone. “sweetie, we didn’t have anymore rooms available. this could be a way for you to become friends,right?” “yeah mom..” she glances at him across the room “anyway mom, i’m gonna take a shower now. talk to you later”. she hangs up the phone. she looks up again at him, this time he’s looking at her. she gets up and takes something from her bag. “do you wanna smoke heeseung?”, she says almost in a whisper. “yeah sure” he says as he stands up from the bed and walks out on the balcony.

they quietly sit outside, puffing on their cigarettes, but without even glancing at each other once. “do we really have to sleep on the same bed?” she breaks the silence “yup, no other room available according to our parents” he says, as she rolls her eyes. He chuckles and looks at her. "They did this in purpose you know? They're trying to make us get along…” he lets out an annoying laugh.” yeah whatever” "I think this time it'll work..." he says as he looks at her and blows smoke out of his mouth. “yeah no, i think i’ll pass” “c’mon, aren’t you excited to be rooming with me? you get the honour of staying in the same room as the amazing, talented, good looking heeseung.” he says jokingly in an exaggerated tone. “not even a little bit” she says with an annoyed face, “you’re so rude” he chuckles then blows smoke out of his mouth. “and you’re full of yourself” “it’s not my fault if it's true” he chuckles smugly “i mean look at me, i’m gorgeous.” “yeah and i’m ariana grande” he snickers “you're being dramatic. you can't deny how handsome i am." “keep dreaming heeseung” he laughs harder, noticing how mad she seems to be “you hate me and think I'm ugly... yet you still agreed to room with me. seem to me like you have a weird way of expressing your love for me." “i didn’t have a choice. i’d rather sleep on the floor than in the same bed with you” he chuckles “if you want, you could just sleep on me y’know~" he says teasingly. she makes a disgusted face as she seemed to be blushing a little bit. "so you think sleeping next to me is gross but you wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor? i swear girls never make sense… or do you have a crush on me? is that why you hate me? because you don’t want to admit your feelings?" he says jokingly as she avoids his gaze and shakes her head. his smirk turns smug as he sees her avoiding eye contact. “ooo, someone is blushing~” “i..i’m not..” he moves slightly closer to her and touches her cheek, turning her face towards him. “oh yeah? it doesn’t look like that to me.” he says as his smirk deepens. his touch was gentle and warm, enough to make her melt under it. she looks at him, but not in the eyes. his look deep and gentle. he stares at her as he brings her chin up with his hand so that she wouldn't be able to escape. “uhm.. i think i’ll go inside, it’s getting kinda chilly”. his smirk becomes even more mischievous.”nah. stay here and let's talk about how you really feel” his voice was warm and soothing, he looked deep into her eyes. his eyes glowed. “i feel okay. i’m great” "you’re avoiding my question. tell me how you really feel about me..." he says as he keeps his eyes fixed on hers. his gaze was like a spell, it was hard to look away and the tension in the air was getting thicker. “you’re.. uhm.. a family friend..” he laughs “so that’s how you feel about me? i’m just simply a family friend? nothing more?" she nods still unable to keep eye contact. “well, maybe this could be the perfect chance to get closer, don’t you think?” he leans even closer to her, their faces almost touching. his breathing gets heavier as he looks at her, their eyes locked together. “i..” she tries to say, but he takes his hand and puts it gently on her mouth, stopping her from speaking. he leans even closer to her. “shh, don't speak just yet... don't you think we could be more than family friends? don’t you have the sudden urge to kiss me?". she shakes her head, obviously lying. he grabs her face gently with his hand and strokes her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. he leans in slowly and moves his lips slightly towards her, only a few millimetres away by now. the air was heavy with the scent of her breath and the anticipation of what was to come, so much that it was almost suffocating. “just let me kiss you~". she closes her eyes and waits for him to do something. his voice lowers as he whispers: "good girl~". his breath is hot on her lips. only fractions of a second were separating their lips. he was still leaning towards her, about to kiss her. and then, there they are. they lips meet softly.

seconds, minutes passes around them as they move their lips like a slow but sensual dance. her lips are tinted in a cherry color, same with her cheeks. his hair is messy cause of her slim fingers pulling it slowly. as she feels out of breath she slowly pulls herself away from the kiss. he smiles at her and chuckles after she pulled away. “see? i knew you wanted it.” he says teasingly. “i..” he grins smugly, leaning back on his seat. “you didn’t deny it." he looks at her, still grinning. “you must have a soft spot for me. that’s why you hate me so much, because of your feelings for me. just like every girl, you’re just so damn embarrassed to admit it. because to be honest, i never thought a girl like you would be so easily attracted to a guy like me.” she doesn’t answer, she just tries to look away from him. “just tell me the truth, i promise i won’t make fun of you or something” he says in a caring and sweet voice “i just know you don’t like me, you always tease me and annoy me..”. he laughs once again at her words. he can’t believe how stubborn she is. she was so clueless yet he had so much fun messing with her like this. “and how do you know that exactly? i could be into you but you just won’t admit that I am.” he’s joking, obviously, but his eyes stay fixed on hers as a playful grin spreads on his face. “like i said, you always tease me for everything” she looks at him. “yeah, and for some reason you always take it to heart, that’s why I keep doing it. come on though, you know the only reason why I’m messing with you is cuz I think you’re cute, right?”. she shakes her head, she can’t believe this is happening. she gets up and tries to leave but he grabs her hand to stop her from getting up. “where do you think you're going? what, you want to run away from your feelings? just face it and admit it already. come on, let me hear you say it.". she is very embarrassed right now “i.. like..” "you like? you like what?" he says, teasingly. his grip firm on her hand, he smiles back in satisfaction as he sees how his words made her speechless. “..you” "me? me what? you like me? is that it?" he leaned closer and stared at her. she nods her head as she’s too shy to speak. this gave him the permission to grab her by the arm and pull her back in the room. he gently pins her against the wall. he kisses her cheek, slowly getting closer to her ear where he starts playing her lobe with his tongue. “am i your first?” he whispers in her ear, just to kiss her lobe again. she just nods, she feels too speechless and embarrassed cause this is happening to her. his eyes glow as he sees her nod. he was enjoying teasing her like this. so innocent and naive, so gullible. he couldn't help but let out a smirk. “does that mean I'm gonna have to take things really slowly with you, huh?" “y-yes..”. his eyes glow as he stares into her eyes. his voice is soft and tender as he speaks. “how come you haven't had a boyfriend yet?" “they don’t really like me because i get shy and embarrassed easely”. he presses his nose on her neck as he slowly kisses it “well.. they don’t know what they are loosing right how”. “heeseung..” she looks at him in the eyes, looking for an approval to speak. “you are used to girls who have already fucked?” “yeah, pretty much” “so does this mean you don’t wanna fuck tonight, right?” “hm, why are you asking this? i thought it was pretty clear. but yes, i would like to, if you want to and if you feel ready and comfortable”. as she hears those words, she grabs him by the collar of the hoodie and kisses him. this kiss was different from the previous kiss. it’s more passionate, it feels like they are trying to eat each other. they are tasting each other’s tongues, exploring their mouths.

he slowly pushes her on the bed. as he’s towering on her, he trails sweet kisses on her neck then down to her chest where he stays for some seconds teasing her sensitive nipples. she tries to contain her moans, but this doesn’t suit well to him. “mh? why are you trying to be quiet baby? let me hear you, let me hear how good i’m making you feel”. he starts undressing her from every piece of clothing she has on. he removes her shorts, and proceeds to remove her panties to. after he’s done undressing her, he makes his way in between her thighs, teasing her wet core. “already so wet baby?” he says as he looks up at her, who has covered her eyes in embarassement. he rubs her puffy clit, fingers slipping through her folds, and teasing her hole. “please hee.. do something”. he smirks, and puts a finger in her aching core. she lets out a quite loud moan. just like that he keeps rocking his fingers, making her see stars. his fingers move faster and faster as he feels her getting closer. “hee, i’m gonna cum..” she says before shaking and twitching on his fingers. he slowly removes his fingers from her, to then proceeding to undressing himself. “baby, do you wanna do a plain missionary?” he asks before positioning himself. “n-no, i want it like this”. she rolls on her stomach and raises her ass upwards. he smirks as playfully slaps her bum. “you’re so naughty”. he positions himself between her legs before slowly putting his tip, then his whole length inside of her. she puts her head in between the pillows to suffocate the moans. he puts his hands on her hips and rocks them on his member. he stills tries to keep himself calm to not hurt her. but she keeps pushing her hips to his, trying to get some more. he notices, and grabs a hand full of her hair and pulls her up. “if you want more, just ask for it baby..” he says before starting to rail her up. she’s moaning (or should i say shouting) his name nonstop. she has her eyes closed, she’s panting, and she’s definitely enjoying it as she’s clenching on him. as the clenches get more frequent, he can feel she’s about to come. this time she doesn’t even say it, she just twitches and her moans get higher in pitch. he cums in her, and after a few thrusts he pulls himself out, watching his hot cum slipping out of her.

she falls out of breath on the bed, followed by him. “you did so good baby for your first time” he says as he pulls her closer to his chest. he keeps stroking her hair, telling her how good she did. he hugs her until he feels she has fallen asleep in his arms. finally he is with the girl he has always loved ever since they were kids.

hii babes, this is my first story. i hope you liked it. lmk if there are some mistakes, and send any asks if you’d like to see me writing something else. kisses

-sasa🫶🏻

#lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen heeseung

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lo1k-diamonds · 21 days ago

Text

Be as it must 💜 Part 2

“So you were behind these attacks? I didn’t know I worked for a criminal.”

PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader

SUMMARY: You wake up and find out who snatched you and why.

WORD COUNT: 2.7 k

GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: anxiety, tension

A.N. A huge thank you to @moonleeai for the beta read💜 The plot thickens...

The way your head hurt when you woke up was like the worst hangover you had ever felt. You groaned, shaking your head slightly, only to fight the nausea and sensitivity caused by the surrounding lights. There were voices around you talking quietly.

A female hushed voice, “Are you sure…?”

And a male one full of certainty, “Absolutely, confirmed by everyone. Remarkable.”

He seemed almost fascinated, but you couldn’t focus on anything with the dizziness and discomfort overwhelming your senses.

“Fine, he’s coming anyway,” she sighed.

“You should give her some water,” the man suggested before you heard footsteps and a door opening.

More people coming in and out meant only more noise and hushed voices, which worsened your state. But then, suddenly, you remembered everything. You weren’t at a rowdy party the night before, you were scared shitless of being taken away and found out by the Families. And all the care in the world still didn’t prevent you from being grabbed outside your apartment building and injected with something and—

Your eyes snapped open, the anxiety spreading through your veins, enforcing a soberness that bypassed the nausea and migraine. Only, instead of making sense of things, you become even more overwhelmed and confused.

You were in a meeting room high in a big city, judging by the buildings and skyscrapers showing through the windows, illuminated by a sun making its descent into the sky. The passage of time was confusing, but the fact that you were sitting on a chair tied up definitely unnerved you. Yet before the violation and despair released your voice, you saw the people in the room.

Your eyes widened as you stared back at CEO Jeon Jungkook, who had a quizzical expression as he returned your gaze. Next to him, a tall, elegantly dressed woman was the picture perfect of a secretary, with black hair perfectly straightened by her shoulders contrasting with a light pink blouse.

You frowned, “What the hell?”

The zip ties around your wrists offered resistance, and you were even more confused. Nothing made sense. You looked around again; you recognized the decor, you were definitely at the Seoul office. Your boss was right there. You were coming here anyway, but how would the kidnappers know?

You frowned, shaking the haziness off so you could think, “Do you always kidnap your employees when they refuse your invitations?”

The CEO raised an eyebrow and moved closer, followed closely by the woman, despite her skeptical glances at you.

“I was coming here anyway, you know?”

“I do, actually. Yoon Minsik asked about you, since you never logged in to work or showed up at the office here, as you indicated.”

He turned to the woman, who nodded and shrugged. She was looking at you with her lips pulled in a line, and it risked making your blood boil. What the fuck was she so disgusted by? You were the one tied up to a fucking chair!

“I see, so that's what happened,” he chuckled before coming close to you, and you frowned, blinking the confusion away.

“You do? Then please enlighten me, because I see no good reason for this,” you opened your hands to bring his attention down to the fact that you were tied up.

“Do you know her?”

He turned to the woman, “She's the lawyer from Busan that I mentioned yesterday.”

Your cheeks gained color that wouldn't be hidden since you didn’t put makeup on that morning. The fact that he mentioned you should be the least of your concerns right now!

“So what is this? An attempt to convince me to move here? Because whoever strategized it is absolutely out of their mind!”

The woman frowned with a hint of aversion, as though she thought you had gone crazy, and the CEO just tilted his head while he looked at you.

“You would surely know this has nothing to do with that,” he said curiously, and the woman neared to whisper again, though this time you heard it.

“See, she has to be a fake—”

“A fake what?! Why the hell am I tied up?!”

“Because you're an omega,” he answered quietly, as though his words held an enchantment.

You stiffened and stopped struggling. Finally, it dawned on you what was happening — you were taken and presented to the alpha head of one of the Families. You weren't there to work, you were there because of your secret.

You swallowed, “Is this necessary?”

His lips trembled, but the woman spoke first, “This is stupid, I don't believe her for a second. I'll call Jiyeong Soohyun to deal with her.”

“Sunhwa, wait,” he called to stop her in her tracks, and you all but exploded.

“Yes, Sunhwa, wait,” you closed your fists, narrowing your eyes at the woman. “What is really stupid, not to say criminal, is this situation! So you better think before you make it worse, and I sue you for everything you're worth!”

The woman laughed but CEO Jeon Jungkook held her wrist to stop her from coming close to you, “Come on, just breathe. Can't you smell her?”

Sunhwa looked at you and you at her, and unlike her, you scoffed and looked away. You had trained yourself so hard to suppress everything linked to your designation, that you had neglected smelling the room. You couldn’t stop that woman from picking up your scent, but you could use your senses to gain information only you could have, so you glanced at the couple again and breathed in slowly.

Piece by piece, it was as though the world moved. It didn't just start spinning when the notes of lilies and amber graced your nose, it recalibrated its axis. Your senses were overwhelmed suddenly, leading your body to react profusely to his presence. You had the fine-tune you were looking for the day before, making your heart race, your mouth water, and your core thrum. Your reaction was so visceral, you instantly tried crossing your legs to stop it, only to raise your eyes to the CEO’s and realize it was too late. He wasn't subtle, licking his lower lip slowly with his eyes fixed on yours, and you melted between your legs with the heat rising up your chest.

“She smells human to me,” Sunhwa shrugged, unaware of the spell you were under, which she just broke.

You clenched your jaw, annoyed more than anything by her mere presence, and finally assessed her.

Your nose twisted in reflex before you could take her as a whole. She was pretty and certainly dressed well. You recognized the underlying scent of beta blood, so that justified her stake in the conversation, but her smell. Too sweet and delicate, just like roses. You instantly couldn't stand it.

Jungkook leaned closer to you and took a sniff, unaware his eyes sparkled the closer he got to you. He didn't need to go any closer to be certain; your notes of jasmine and ylang-ylang had tingled his nose and awoken his senses already from the hallway. The surprise that remained was that it was you, and so he was not only fascinated, but delighted. He knew from the day before that you were the type of person he'd feel inevitably drawn to, but now, it was visceral. You were so close, and he was so tempted to—

“So if you agree, I'll call Jiyeong Soohyun to deal with her like we did with the others.”

The CEO looked at Sunhwa as if she had just popped up inside the room, but you couldn't take pleasure in it. You struggled against your restraints, rebelling against everything. He was an alpha, and everything you felt was just his effect messing with you! He had you tied up to a freaking chair! And you were not about to admit anything out loud; who cared what they believed? You just wanted to leave!

“Untie me!”

He was so close to you that your request in that distressed tone instantly pushed him to action. His hands shook as he stopped himself from doing as you asked, and he broke down laughing.

You paled, livid, and Sunhwa eyed him as if he had lost his mind, but he kept laughing with tears in his eyes. He was just so mind blown. To think you could influence him with a half thought blurted out, it was insane. He had never experienced anything like it, or maybe his memory was just bad. And yet, there was nothing more real than the weight of his desire, almost crushing him to his knees before you. So he could look up at you, touch you, drag his nose over the soft pulse of your wrist while your voice soothed his soul.

He could only laugh at any suggestions that you weren’t an omega. The only question was how to proceed forward.

He cleared his throat and kneeled before you to cut your zip ties off, uncertain if his eyes didn't reveal the pleasure tingling up his arms at the gesture. One look at you before you stood from your chair abruptly told him you weren't in the condition to notice it. You were distressed, and rightly so.

He heaved a deep breath, ready to handle it, when you said, “So you were behind these attacks? I didn’t know I worked for a criminal.”

The way you rubbed your wrists and looked at him with suspicion threw him off, but it was Sunhwa who reacted first.

She scoffed, “What attacks?” Her voice pitched as if she was being personally attacked, “Those people were verified, nothing more!”

Your expression blanked as you faced her with all the skepticism and blatant distrust you could muster. What the hell did that even mean?

Sunhwa stepped toward Jungkook with a pleading expression, “She acts like a human, behaves like one too. This is ridiculous, there are no more omegas. It has to be a mistake!”

You rolled your eyes but didn't dignify that with an answer. Your moral code prevented you from lying, and you weren't certain on whether the truth in this case would work in your favor or not. Would you be allowed to leave? Would they harm you if they thought you were human, even though you were an employee? You weren't certain if Sunhwa couldn't or wouldn't recognize your blood, so it was hard to decide a course of action.

Fortunately, the CEO made it easier, “There's no mistake.”

The way he looked at you was enough; the way he spoke, lowly under his breath, halted your thoughts for a moment. There was a tension pulling you to—

“But—” Sunhwa looked at you in disbelief. “Just— Just get rid of her, and it will all be—”

“No one is getting rid of anyone,” he glared at her, finally out of patience. Didn't he just say you were legit? How could she be so dumb? Why would he ever let you go?

You crossed your arms casually though your voice was venomous, ��Getting rid? Thought you weren’t criminals, but you have a human trafficking ring or something?”

You were about to go on a tangent about the law, and how being an omega gave them no right to kidnap you, when the CEO turned to you with a hard gaze. The world shifted out of focus while your whole attention trained on him.

“I’d stay quiet if I were you.”

Your stance instantly hardened. You actually thought you could have a civilized conversation with that m— with that alpha?

Shame on you.

He had turned to talk to Sunhwa and you simply circled them in the direction of the door.

He reacted on instinct, grabbing your arm, “Where are you going?”

“Away,” you stated, pulling your arm, and since he didn't let go, it brought him closer. “I'm not one to stay quiet, so unless you plan on speaking candidly with me about this mess or sending for Jiyeong Soohyun to handle me how you did countless others, I conclude that I'll be walking out of here now.”

Jungkook was licking his lips before he could help it. The tension rising up his arm from where you two touched was unparalleled, leading him to wonder how you could even formulate such thoughts and sentences under its influence. But more importantly, you misunderstood him; he didn't want you gone. He wanted to get rid of Sunhwa before he could talk to you. Ideally, to change everything so he was a free man to—

“Let me go.”

His grip loosened instantly, and he cursed mutely; he just couldn't think near you. Not if it wasn't about you.

But you were about to leave and that couldn't happen.

“I'll speak with you. Sunhwa, thank you for your help. I can attest to her omega designation, so there's nothing further. You're dismissed for the day.”

Sunhwa’s eyes widened impossibly in disbelief, but she still bowed and left. Her glare was hot on you before she closed the door, but you were already over it. The CEO held the actual power, and you wanted your freedom.

“Please, sit.”

He motioned to the other side of the room, a corner with two couches, and you raised an eyebrow, “Are there more zip ties in the picture?”

“No, I promise.”

He did sound guilty, so you nodded and sat on the couch. He sat on the other, giving you enough space.

“But you do engage in this kind of barbaric methods,” you insisted. “Hunting and kidnapping people.”

He licked his lips to hide a smile, “You never denied you were an omega.”

“I don't see the point in denying the obvious. I do, however, in understanding why someone of your character would resort to such methods.”

“My character?”

He smiled widely, amused, and it obliterated your defenses. Your heart started racing, willing to overlook your irritation and frustration, but you cleared your throat, “Maybe I should have said standing. Your character so far leaves much to be desired.”

“I'm sad to hear that,” he said, and the way his eyes lowered to the white carpet made you believe him. “Regarding the methods, I didn't approve of them personally. They're traditional, as you well know.”

Your eyebrows jumped and he observed you curiously.

“Busan is Jeon territory, so searches are standard. Of course, the Family is searching for my sake, but it's an old practice. Outdated; I shall see to abolish it.”

You pursed your lips, “Now that you found what you were looking for?”

He couldn't help a laugh, “Certainly.”

You didn't have the right to deny it, but you swallowed dryly, “What do you plan on doing?”

“Well, first, I'd like to make myself available for any question you might have, about this or otherwise.”

When had the intensity of his eyes shifted like this? Your skin instantly tingled, attuned to him, like he had a direct line of contact to your senses.

“Then, I thought to make it up to you by welcoming you in my guest suite.”

You blinked, “Why?”

“For your comfort, of course. I haven't forgotten you were here to give the Seoul office a chance—”

“I came here to facilitate the American consortium negotiations,” you corrected a bit defensively.

He smiled, “So I leave it up to you whether you need a few days or not before you can get on that.”

You were already shaking your head when you gasped, “Today's meetings!”

“Were rescheduled for tomorrow at my request. Couldn't risk anything being decided without my best legal representative present.”

You fought the wave of warmth spreading through your chest. “I'll stay the few days necessary to carry out the negotiations. Then, I'll return to Busan.”

Your shoulders squared as you spoke, aware of what you were doing. You had asserted he found what he was looking for and that you wanted to leave. Would he go back to kidnapping and coerce you now? Would he go against your will?

He tensed under your gaze, aware of what you were asking. His eyes hid for a moment, his palm rubbing on his leg in thought.

You could barely process the way his thighs strained his dress pants before he spoke, drawing in your eyes again.

“Alright, agreed.”

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reticent-writer · 9 months ago

Note

Hey! Well, actually, I really like the set of stories about Teen!Reader and Alostor where the reader is classified as an assistant, I would like a story that shows how they met and how they get to the point where they consider him an assistant and their confidence to say him dad? Thank you, I'm sorry if the request was very long. (Writing this I remembered the fight Alastor and Lucifer had over Charlie about who she calls Dad, I felt it would still be a good scenario for indignation)

An: I had a storyboard for this exact thing but its messy and if you don't know me you probably wouldn't understand how my mind works but basically i have ocs for this

This took a bit longer because it happens before Alastor and reader dies plus I gave reader a family so...... some basic info

Y/n was born into a family that was picture perfect on the outside

father was a factory worker Mother was a dressmaker

Doll House by Melanie Martinez fits them perfectly

Y/n was the middle child of 5

When Y/n was born the eldest (Atticus boy) was 10, Second eldest 6 (Alma girl), Middle child (y/n)

when y/n turned 4 their parents had twins (Giles boy, Gideon boy)

This is a glimpse into my mind. It might not make sense.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

-1920-

Y/n is 10.

Your parents were perfectionists, especially when it came to the public eye. The L/n family was always the center of attention in your little town, deep in Louisiana.

You and your siblings were constantly dressed in Sunday's best.

"Kids make yourselves look presentable. A client is coming soon." Your mother called out from her 'workspace'. kids aren't allowed in there.

"Can't we just stay in our rooms." Atticus complained from his spot on the couch.

"Get. Dressed."

Atticus groaned as he got up to go to his room. On his way, he knocked on your door before opening it.

"You're supposed to wait for a response, Jackass."

"Next time you curse at me I'm poppin' you." He threatened but you knew he wouldn't do anything, "Mom said get dressed, tell Alma."

He closed the door before you could complain. You heard the shuffling of his feet as he ran to his room.

His room was at the end of the hall. the hall was short with 2 doors on each side. Alma was across from you and the twins were next to her.

Right across from your room is Alma's. She's going into her preteen years and started to spend more time in her room. Your mother says she's adjusting to becoming a woman and needs her time alone. She's also becoming very snappy.

You slowly opened your door to stare at hers. You slowly walk into the hallway and up to her door. You knock three time and wait for a responce. She didn't open the door.

"I heard Atticus." Her voice was horse and strained but you believed what your mother told you.

That was all you needed to get yourself ready.

-------

Your mother made all (except for Alma) of you sit in the living room and wait for the client.

*knock knock knock*

"He's here. You better behave." She says before opening the door with a smile only guests see, "Alastor, It's so good to see you again."

"Good to see you to, my dear and my my look at the children. They all seem to be in good health." He greeted all of you with a smile.

"Hello sir." Atticus spoke for all of you.

"You seem to be missing one." Alastor commented, making your mother chuckle.

"She's been feeling under the weather as of late, come along I need to take your measurements. Atticus, Y/n prepare some tea." She ordered.

Alastor and your mother went to her workspace and she shut the door.

----------

That night went smoothly until your father got home. He didn't like the fact that your mother was in her workspace with a man and the door closed, even if he was a client.

It caused fighting -well more than there normally is anyway- between your mother and father. It's always been easy to make your father mad.

It got worse when Alastor took notice of it he came by more often with the excuse of having gifts for you and your siblings.

He gave you a radio to listen to him when he went on air. Atticus was offered a job at the radio station. Alma got a set of jewelry.

This angered your father more and instead of taking it out on Alastor or your mother he took it out on you and your siblings. Atticus tried to protect all of you.

One day your father and Atticus got into a really bad fight and your brother was shot. He didn't make it.

It was around the same time when a horrid smell started coming from Alma's room. Your parents said she caught a fever and no one noticed but you didn't believe them anymore.

From then on you started distancing yourself from your family and growing closer to Alastor.

--------

When you got older (16) you started working with alastor at the radio station. He taught you how to live life without worry.

He treats you like your a person and not just your parent's child.

Your parents treated you like a decoration. Alastor treated you like a child he didn't know he wanted.

You found out he was a murder by accident. You forgot someone at the station late at night and went back to get it to see blood spattered in the talking booth.

At first you thought it was Alastors so you took a gun that the station had in case of emergencies and followed the trail.

Opening the back door you saw Alastor dragging the body. The two of you made eye contact. Your body moved without hesitation and helped him hide the body.

------

Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

This is long and not what I usually write but it's been stuck in my head for a while.

A/n: I've decided to cut the twins and make y/n the youngest. I had something for them originally but it's better for just Alma, Atticus and Y/n

Art by @ghostly-one

#male reader #female reader #gn reader #child reader #x child reader #teen reader #platonic #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #reticent writes #reticent writer

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justatypicalwizard · 1 year ago

Text

A scrap from your book

Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming

Roommate Bakugo who is forced to share a room with you for about three months due to unexpected construction works in the college apartment he occupied. The whole Bakusquad was moved to random rooms. To make it worse they were all shared ones. You agreed to take in a male occupant.

Roommate Bakugo who tries to spend as much time outside of the cramped college room as possible. He feels like he's kinda invading your privacy as well as just finding the whole situation uneasy.

Roommate Bakugo who has to complete a bunch of assignments but the library is packed in the late afternoon hours, the air thick with gossip, stress, sweat and annoyance. Bakugo finally wandered off to the dorm room to find some peace for his work.

Roommate Bakugo who spotts you always turn off your lamp and tune down the brightness on your laptop when he tells you he's going to sleep.

"You don't have to do that." He grunts, already wrapped up in heavy covers.

"I don't mind, you do the same." Because he does.

Roommate Bakugo who walks on you watching a film he loves. At first he just circles the small room mindlessly, more interested in the unwrapping dialogue between his two favourite characters than the laundry he's picking up.

"You wanna watch?" You ask, pausing the movie.

"No. I was going to do my laundry."

"I can wait, I can buy some snacks in the meantime, I was looking for an excuse to do it anyway."

So the two of you ended up finishing the film together, sitting on your bed.

Roommate Bakugo who talks to you more, geting used to the situation faster than he thought he would. You both sit by your desks working on the boring college stuff. He spotted you were trying hard, not slacking around and keeping most of your deadlines. Even if he didn't want to admitt it, he was impressed. Not that he didn't do the same, it's just rare to find a person who actually cares.

Roommate Bakugo who didn't know how to phrase a sentence. He was working on a piece of paper for the last two hours after an intense day of workout and his brain refused to cooperate anymore.

"Can I ask you for a favour?" Your face appeared from behind your laptop screen.

"Depends on what is it."

"I finished a short essay and I wanted to ask if you could read it and tell me if it makes sense."

Might as well take a break to refresh his mind. Bakugo read through the text and came to the conclusion that you were a good writer. A very good writer in fact.

"How would you say that in other words?" He asked after you were happy with your work, your laptop tossed aside as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone.

You skipped to him, read through the sentence and gave him a paraphrase, one that he wouldn't think of himself.

"Thanks."

Roommate Bakugo who was eying you book collection for some time. You had a bunch. When he asked the two of you started talking and in went on and on and on. Finally, you stood up on your bed, the sheets dipping in where you stretched out to reach the highest shelve. Picking out a book you handed it to him.

"My favourite."

So he started to read it.

Roommate Bakugo who got a text from you that you wouldn't be back in the dorms for the night. After a shower he laid down in his bed, shirtless, with your book in hand. It was definitely worth it and he was way past the half already. Suddednly the doors opened only to reveal you, eying him up and down.

"The fuck you doing here?" Suddenly Bakugo felt a tad bit embarassed about his bare chest and lose sweatpants.

"My friend cancelled, sorry, you have someone over?" A small sly grin appeared on yoru lips.

"Jeez no, I'm just half naked."

"I don't mind." You shrugged, throwing your bag on the bed.

And what was that supposed to mean?

Nevermind. Bakugo wanted to get back to the story when he spotted something horrific. His hand gripped a nice chunk of the page, torn out of the book. He must have done it when you startled him with the grand entrance. It was readable as he only torn the cream white but it still looked nasty.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He didn't even look at you, opting on eying the damage, embarassement creaping up his cheeks for destroying someone's else belonging. One of yoru favourite belongings.

You came over, looked at the book and started to laugh.

"What's so fucking funny?" From embarassed Bakugo quickly merged into defensive.

"You look as if you killed my grandma. It's just a book." You saw that it didn't make him feel better, in fact the frown in his brows deepened. "I like my books being used. Lets treat it as a memory of you reading it. Give me the torn piece, please." Your hand reached out and he put the scrap into your open palm.

You skribbled something down on it using a pen fished out of your drawer. When you gave it back to him, the paper read 'Don't stress so much, dummy.'

"You can keep it." A smile brightened your face as you turned around to do other things.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that he kept that scrap in the back of his phonecase at all times.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that it took you roughly two months to steal his rock-like heart away.

#bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #katsuki bakugo #mha bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #mha

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yogurtkags · 3 months ago

Note

hello, congratulations on 100! 🫶 could i request bokuto kotaro with the prompt of first dates? sending love! :)

❝ BEGIN AGAIN ❞ — bokuto kotarou

cw. gn!reader, fluff, timeskip!bokuto, first date, akaashi sets you up on a date with his best friend, acquaintances to lovers, implied that bokuto is taller than reader word count. 1.3k

rediscovering love in the form of keiji's best friend, a 6'2.9 (he says 6'3 anyway) ball of sunshine that looks at you like you hung the stars

event masterlist

the boisterous and excitable bokuto that you know is surprisingly mild outside of the court, away from his usual company, with you. he’s very sweet, listening to every word you say with bright eyes and an attentiveness you wouldn’t expect from him.

it's one of the warmest days this week, the sun blazing down on the tree you're sat under, a pseudo little shade to shield you from the glare and bright rays— between the leaves and foliage, a yellow-orange glow seeps into the gaps and paints a beautiful splash of colour across the plains of your smooth skin.

ice cream cones in hand and sitting side by side on the wooden park bench close enough for your thighs to touch, it's a welcome feeling, the warmth of the weather and his presence filling you with a sense of comfort and reassurance despite your nerves.

it’s been a while since you’ve last been on a date, time hasn’t really been on your side lately, and the idea of putting yourself out there again fills yourself with dread. you swore off love and relationships for a while after your last one and honestly? you're scared. but your trust in keiji is unwavering, and knowing how highly he thinks of the ones he holds close to him, you decided to take his word for it, even if you can't deny that you were a little skeptical at first.

keiji decided he has had enough of you lamenting about your lack of action in the love department despite not making any moves yourself and set you up on a date, making some compelling points about how "you already know bo, plus i think you two would be a good fit." "he's literally my best friend, i wouldn't set you up with a weirdo, who do you think i am?" "shut up, i've seen the way you look at him."

you don't deny that bokuto's easy on the eyes— striking hair, innocent features and the most gorgeous smile, paired with his athletic physique and outgoing personality, on the surface, what's not to like?

but really, it's been in all the little details since the day started.

him making an effort to show up early despite being prone to getting lost going to places he's never been to before, he's just bad at directions especially when he's nervous, standing by the side of the cafe twiddling his thumbs and humming under his breath. the way his eyes lit up when he first saw you, bringing a hand up to wave in greeting and instantly putting a smile on your face.

the sudden change in temperature upon stepping inside caused goosebumps to raise on your skin, and he noticed, instantly going to shrug off his light jacket and gingerly draping it over your shoulders, deciding to pick a seat by the window, "so at least a little sun can come through and hopefully keep you warm if my jacket isn't enough." he said this as he pulled your chair out for you and helped you settle in your seat like a true gentleman, and your cheeks warmed bashfully at how thoughtful he's already been in the first few minutes, than how some others have been in months.

you fell into a comfortable conversation, catching up on life since graduating and what you've been doing after that. the two of you didn't particularly keep in contact after all, having just been mere acquaintances and had more of a friend of a friend type relationship. he's hard to miss though, you've seen him on sports channels, having gone the professional route and playing volleyball in the v-league instead of pursuing a college degree or a more conventional white collar job. to be fair, you've never penned him for the type, he was beyond ordinary, and always excelled at the sport even back then, catching the eyes of numerous scouters and teams in the country.

"so," taking a sip of his drink, he locked eyes with you and jokingly asked, "when are you coming to one our games?"

with a mischievous glint and an exaggerated false nonchalance, you playfully suggested with a shrug of your shoulders, "hmm i don't know, i'm not really super into the sport or anything, but maybe i'm just waiting for the black jackal’s #12 to formally invite me to come watch. he doesn't seem too into me though, so i don't know if it'll happen, we'll see."

what came after was the cutest outburst that didn’t fail to bring a matching grin on your face, his head thrown back laughing as he processed your words, "well he's clearly missing out because have you seen yourself? if he won't do it i will."

you hated to admit it but this date was going swimmingly and you didn’t want it to end just yet, which brings you back to the present, a mental recount of the hours that just passed broken by bokuto’s hand reaching towards your face.

your breath hitches as his thumb brushes over the corner of your lip with a featherlight touch, your mind going blank at the sudden contact and warmth creeping up your neck, the tips of your ears mirroring the fresh swell of a ripe apple at your shyness.

“sorry, got a little bit of ice cream on your lip there.” he murmurs as he sheepishly retracts his hand, wiping it off on a napkin and turning to face you again while avoiding eye contact. he's so cute, and you can't decide if the dessert in your hands or the man before you is sweeter.

bokuto doesn't know if he's overstepped by doing that, but all of his worries melt away like wax when he sees you trying to hide a small smile, and completely contrary to what he felt seconds ago, gains a burst of confidence to grab your hand as you both stand up from the bench.

upon finding out that you took the train to meet him, he insists on driving you home, seeing that it was getting late. interlocking your still linked hands and lightly swinging them in the wind, you let him lead you to his car down the block, settling on plush leather seats as he opens the door for you.

the ride home is filled with chatter and silly stories, from reminiscing high school and discussing music tastes, right down to playing 21 questions like little kids and learning the basics like your favourite flowers or colour, and bokuto take down a mental note of this, making sure to surprise you with some next time. next time.

as you peer out at the passing streets and night sky, you notice that he's taking the longer way home, letting out a quiet huff in amusement. you're both on more of a similar wavelength than you initially thought, and it seems like he shares the same idea, not wanting the night to end just yet, even though you've already been together for hours.

sooner than you wanted, your house comes into view and bokuto's pulling up to the sidewalk, getting out of the car and once again opening the door for you, ever the chivalrous man.

standing before him, you look up at his youthful face, illuminated by the golden hue of your dimmed porch lights, and you're convinced he was hand-sculpted and molded by angels themselves, soft eyes overflowing with affection as he gazes down at you, “i’d love to do this again sometime, bo—“

before you can finish your sentence, he interrupts, “koutarou— you can call me koutarou.”

with a giggle, you reach up on your tiptoes, pressing a light kiss on his cheek and heading towards your door, calling out just before closing it shut behind you, “i’ll see you soon okay, koutarou?”

notes. hi anon !! pretty excited to get into this because i've never written for bo before !! this was loosely inspired by “begin again” - taylor swift if you couldn't tell by the title ♡ thank you so much for your request, i hope you enjoy this !! reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#bokuto kotarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutaro x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #msby bokuto #bokuto fluff #dividers: @/cafekitsune

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago

Text

you're not jonathan

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'no upside down au' rated t wc: 997 cw: recreational drug use, language tags: meet-ugly turned meet-cute, flirting, somewhat ambiguous ending but we all know what's gonna happen

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

Steve was not supposed to be the one picking up the drugs for the party.

He wasn't even going to the party.

But Jonathan couldn't get it from his usual guy, said he was back home in California for the summer, and it wasn't like Robin had a hookup.

Eddie Munson didn't technically deal anymore, but he made exceptions for previous customers, and Jonathan had been a regular during high school.

It wasn't shocking news to Steve, but what was shocking was hearing all these stories about how Eddie didn't even usually meet someone during daylight hours. Except today, apparently.

Steve tripped over another branch, barely caught himself before falling on his face.

"I better get so high off this shit," he said to himself.

"I only sell the good shit."

Steve froze.

Somehow, he'd missed a person walking up to him, probably when he nearly ate dirt.

"Is there any reason a hike is required to get some weed?" Steve asked, brushing his hands on his pants to get the remnants of the tree trunk he saved himself on.

Eddie crossed his arms in front of him, raising an unimpressed brow.

"No. Jonathan suggested the place."

Hard to believe the guy who hated being outside for more than a few minutes would have suggested a half mile trek into the woods, but Steve didn't really care to argue.

"O...kay. Well, I've got the cash if you wanna get this over with," Steve said as he reached into his pockets that were..."Fuck."

He started patting his pockets, his shirt, looking around him at the ground to try to find his wallet.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asked, coming closer.

"I lost my wallet. Shit!"

"Alright, I can help you look, man. It's not a big deal. Gotta be somewhere, right?" Eddie started looking around him, though it was half-hearted at best. "What's it look like?"

"It's brown. Um, leather?" Steve suddenly forgot any other details about his wallet. How convenient.

"Okay, so the color of the ground. Should be easy."

Steve snorted.

Eddie was smirking as he walked the way Steve came, checking the ground around him as he did so.

Steve followed behind, but he was pretty certain they wouldn't find it.

After ten minutes of looking, Eddie sighed.

"We should just smoke a bit. Take the edge off. Ya know?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. I can't pay you until I find my wallet," Steve said as he continued looking, bending down to get a closer look at a spot that seemed like the color of his wallet.

"On the house."

Steve stood straight up.

"Really?"

"Can't really kick ya when you're down, can I? Plus, I planned on smoking after you left anyway. We can share," Eddie shrugged, like it was no big deal.

Steve had never gotten high outside of house parties, the comfort of his own home or a friend's home soothing his anxieties about losing his inhibitions.

But out here? With Eddie? It didn't seem like a smart thing to do.

"Alright," Steve shrugged back.

Eddie must have sensed something about him, though, because he didn't let him take more than three puffs of the joint before he put it out and found a collection of boulders for them to sit on.

"You ever think about how trees are alive but they don't have ears?" Steve asked a minute later.

"Oh, you're that kind of high." Eddie poked his hand, making him look over at him. "You eat today?"

"Maybe. I've been busy. Do you think trees get hungry?" Steve replied.

Eddie searched his face before letting his pinky rest against Steve's hand on the rock.

It felt like fire.

"They do."

"But they don't have pancakes or cheeseburgers. Like, we can't grind it up and put it in the dirt for them, right?" Steve's jaw dropped. "Can we?"

Eddie watched as Steve looked over at some of the trees surrounding them.

"I don't think we can, no."

"A shame. They're missin' out. You know who else is missin' out? Jonathan! He made me come here and he didn't even tell me you had long hair or like the nicest eyelashes. Which is weird because he didn't shut up about anything else about you but he forgot about the eyelashes!" Steve's hand curled around Eddie's pinky. "And you look warm."

Eddie's brows raised.

He wasn't sure who Steve was. Jonathan had just insisted he was cool.

But Jonathan hadn't mentioned that his hair looked softer than silk, or that his eyes were wide and innocent despite his lip curling up in the corner in annoyance.

Jonathan seemed to have left a lot of things out.

"Well, it is summer. It's pretty warm," Eddie gulped. "But you do look a little cold."

"I get cold easy. Robin says it's because I don't eat enough red meat or something. Low irony or something."

Eddie was so endeared.

"I could help you stay warm? Walk you back to your car if you want?"

Eddie did not want that, but he knew Steve probably needed to walk off some of this high before his friends started to worry about him.

"Don't wanna walk," Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "My head is walking."

"Should I try to head back and get one of your friends?"

Steve shook his head.

"Be fine in an hour."

"Okay," Eddie put his arm around Steve's shoulder, surprised to find that Steve was shivering. "Hey, you okay?"

"You do have good shit."

"That's not an answer," Eddie chuckled.

"I'm good. Best."

Eddie let him burrow further into his side and waited for his shivering to subside before he suggested heading back to his car again.

Steve still refused, and Eddie didn't have it in him to push.

Not when they were finding shapes in the clouds and he was holding Steve close.

He'd definitely owe Jonathan a lot of product if this went the way he wanted it to.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #no upside down au

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cherryflavoured7777 · 1 year ago

Text

Do you miss me, dear? [h.c]

Summary: Stuck at a graduation party, surrounded by memories of your past relationship and your own loneliness, your night takes an unexpected turn when you find yourself dialing the number of the one person you vowed you wouldn't contact.

Pairing: College!Hazel x College!Fem!Reader

Contains: smut 18+ only, explicit language, drinking, smoking, mutual pining, slightly toxic reader I think, fingering (r! receiving), oral(r! receiving), break-up/make-up sex, idiots in love, this one gets straight-up MUSHY I’m not gonna lie

Word count: 4.1k

a/n: I just need to say I am deeply obsessed with all of you who interacted with either of my last two fics. reading your comments/ replies seriously makes me SO happy you have no idea. Got me giggling and shit fr! I don’t know why my writing always ends up including partying and drinking but maybe it’s because I just graduated college and am having an existential post-grad crisis. Anyway 💀I hope you enjoy and thank you again for reading!!!

Also, this is inspired by this song by one of my favourite bands:

“I don’t know what I’m still doing here.” You say out loud to yourself, standing up from the musty green couch you were sitting on. An empty beer bottle falls from the cushion onto the ground, shattering into pieces beside your foot.

This party sucked. Pushing your way through the crowded, stuffy kitchen, you couldn't shake off the feeling of suffocation. Tipsy couples entangled in each other's arms seemed to be everywhere, a painful reminder of what you once had and lost. The memories of being that annoying person in love at a party flooded back, amplifying the ache of your loneliness.

The thumping music in your ears only made your head pound harder. Desperate for a breath of fresh air, you stumbled toward the door, ignoring the intoxicated laughter and clinking glasses that filled the air. As you stepped outside, the cool night breeze hit your face, offering a momentary rescue from the overwhelming atmosphere inside.

The darkness of the night sky above seemed to swallow you whole, but it felt strangely comforting. Leaning against the porch railing, you closed your eyes, trying to regain your composure. In the silence outside, you could hear distant laughter and the faint sound of music, muffled by the walls of the house.

You settled into a seat around a glass table, next to a guy you recognized from one of your classes. You exchanged a quick nod of acknowledgment before reaching into your purse, retrieving a box of cigarettes. Smoking was not a regular habit for you, but you reserved it for moments like these—after a few drinks and a growing sense of irritation.

You lit the end of the cigarette, watching it crackle, and took a long drag. As you exhaled the smoke, you tilted your head back, noticing the full moon glowing brightly above.

"Full moon tonight," the boy beside you remarked, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. "They say some crazy shit can happen on full moons."

You chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, well, that could explain why I'm stuck at this party right now."

He leaned back, studying you intently.

“I wish I could be an astronaut and get the fuck out of here.” You mused, gaze fixed on the bright glow of the moon. "I only came to this party because she said she would be here." Another drag of the cigarette punctuated your words.

"Who's she?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"My ex," you replied, trying to seem nonchalant. His gaze was fixed on you, "Hazel."

Until today, you hadn't spoken to Hazel in over three months, choosing to cut off all contact in an attempt to speed up the process of moving on. You're both surprised that you managed to endure the silence for so long, and disappointed that she hasn't made any effort to reach out, not even once.

That was until about six hours ago when you were sitting at a coffee shop on campus with your roommate, Brittany, studying for your upcoming statistics exam.

"Don't look now, but Hazel just walked in," she whispers, her tone hushed, and her eyes widening. "And she's with another girl."

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. You were seated with your back to the door, and you watched as they both approached the corner, heading in your direction.

"Brittany!" the blonde girl accompanying Hazel exclaims, leaving the three of you momentarily stunned.

Hazel follows a few steps behind, clearly taken aback by the encounter. She looked annoyingly hot, her disheveled brown hair, baggy white t-shirt and black jeans, adorned with her signature silver chains and rings. It takes all your strength not to stare.

"Hey, Amanda," Brittany replied, forcing a polite smile. "Hazel."

Hazel offers a nod in greeting to Brittany and then to you. You feel like a middle-schooler again, awkward and unsure of how to act around your crush.

"Did you manage to finish that paper for Professor Sharpe's class?" the girl asked.

As Brittany carries on the conversation with Amanda, you can feel Hazel's gaze on you, catching her eyes occasionally.

You never anticipated the aftermath of your breakup with Hazel to be this awkward. All those nights spent tangled up together, where you both believed you could read each other's minds, now reduced to this.

"So, Hazel, are you going to Emma’s graduation party tonight? All of us are going," Brittany chimed in, attempting to steer the conversation away from the obvious tension.

Hazel smiled sheepishly, replying, "Yeah, I’m going."

"Cool," Brittany replied, her smile masking the underlying awkwardness in the air.

A beat of uncomfortable silence hung between you all.

"Will you be there?" Hazel asked breaking the silence, turning toward you, her voice almost hesitant.

"Yeah, I'll be there," you said, mustering a small smile. "Wouldn’t want to miss it."

Hazel smiled, "Cool," she said, her voice soft, "I'll see you there then."

Just as the atmosphere began to ease, Amanda abruptly intervened, her grip firm on Hazel's hand. "Hazel, let’s go, I forgot something in my car," Amanda said, her tone strangely possessive, and she dragged Hazel away before you could utter another word.

This breadcrumb of information has led you here. You spent the first fifteen minutes at the party searching for her like a lost puppy. When you couldn't find her, you contemplated leaving but opted to drown your thoughts with tequila shots instead. Now, you're clinging to any scrap of attention you can find, desperately trying to purge her from your mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the male voice beside you. "D’you have a light?" he asked, his cigarette aimed in your direction. You stare at him for a moment, deadpan, still frozen in your thoughts from the events that unfolded earlier today.

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath, reaching for your phone. You’re calling her.

“You’re soaked,” Hazel says as you climb into the front seat of her car, her tone a mix of concern and annoyance. “Seriously, you’re getting mud all over the floor of my car.” While you were waiting for Hazel to pick you up from the party, It started raining, you thought enduring it outside would be better than being stuffed in that small house full of people you didn't even really know.

“You lied.” You retort back.

“What?”

“You said you were coming to the party.”

“Yeah well, my plans changed. Put your seatbelt on.” As she shifted the car into reverse, she placed her hand on your seat to steady herself. With a quick glance over your shoulder, she backed out of the driveway in one brisk movement.

You attempted to keep your composure, trying not to make it entirely obvious that you were basically drooling over how hot she looked doing that.

“I can tell that there’s someone else,” You say after a few moments of silence, trying to disguise your jealousy with innocent curiosity. “Come on, tell me,” You finally click your seatbelt into place. “I can take it well.”

"Oh, I know you can," she replied, shooting you a smug look, trying to divert this conversation from getting too deep right now.

“Hazel.” You groan at her dumb attempt at an innuendo, throwing your head backward and hitting the headrest. “Just be honest. Is it the girl from the coffee shop earlier? Or what about the girl Isabel saw you with last week at the library? Or both? Who am I kidding, there’s probably even more than that.”

“Do you have like, personal spies assigned to watch over me?”

You don’t respond right away, deciding to avoid her questions like she’s avoiding yours. You crank the window open and throw your head out. The spring wind cool on your face.

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

Look, I know I wasn't where I said I'd be, but I was busy, doing stuff," she replied defensively.

"Yeah," you scoffed, your words tinged with a hint of anger. "I'm sure you were."

You sit the next few minutes in silence, wondering if this whole thing was a bad idea. You couldn't pinpoint why you had called her in the first place. The intensity of seeing her earlier mixed with the disappointment of the lackluster party had left you missing her, even though you weren't entirely sure why.

"So, where am I taking you?" Hazel asked, her gaze shifting from the road to you. Strands of her brown hair were tousled by the wind.

Your buzz had faded, and with it, your initial courage waned. Swallowing hard, you hesitated before speaking. "Can I sleep at yours? Not— not like that," you hurriedly clarified, feeling a sudden need to explain. "It's just that Brittany has her new boyfriend over, and I could go back there, but I don’t really want to."

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

After a moment, Hazel hesitantly rested her hand on your thigh, both of you aware of the significance of the touch, even if neither acknowledged it. Her fingers gave a gentle squeeze, the subtle pressure made your tummy flip. Beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding lingered, hinting that this night might entail more than just a ride home.

Hazel's apartment is full of brown moving boxes, an aching reminder of why you broke up in the first place.

“Wow, this place is pretty much all packed up.” You say, slowly walking through the place, eventually landing at the doorway into her bedroom.

She nods in response, her face reflecting a mixture of anticipation and sadness, settling down at the end of her bed.

"So, when do you leave?" The question weighed heavily on your heart as you voiced it. You wished you didn't have to ask these questions, yearning for a time when you were part of her plans, not just a spectator.

“Two weeks. My Aunt is gonna meet me at JFK and help me move into my new place.”

You sighed, feeling brave, "I wish I had the date circled on my calendar, helping you move, or going with you." You say the last part quiet, mostly to yourself.

The conversation lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

You walked over to her dresser, where a mirror was propped up, decorated with photos of you two from a photobooth, still clinging to the glass. Your heart swelled with mixed emotions.

Hazel says your name, breaking you from your trance.

“Come here,” she says.

You walk over slowly, standing between her legs. Your hands rest on her shoulders and you take a deep breath.

With both of your gazes locked, her hands came up behind your thighs, gently grabbing them and pulling them on either side of her one by one so you’re straddling her. Her hand comes up to brush a piece of hair from your face.

“You’re so beautiful, baby” Her voice is barely a whisper as she stares up at you, her eyes practically shimmering with your reflection, Her hands settle on your waist, the warmth of her touch sending a pang of guilt through you. This breakup was unlike any you'd experienced before, and the raw emotions lingered, making you hesitate for a moment.

Your hands move up to cradle her face, your thumb dragging on her bottom lip. Still maintaining intense eye contact, you slowly slip your finger into her mouth, watching her with a mix of awe and longing.

The silence as you stare at each other is anything but awkward. It was charged with the weight of shared mourning, each of you navigating the complexity of a relationship's end.

You removed your finger, and in response, she grabbed your head gently, guiding it down towards her face, her eyes locked onto yours. Your lips barely grazed each other, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear your rapid heartbeat. Hazel kissed you slowly at first, the touch of her lips sending a rush through your entire body. It quickly escalated, and there was a certain neediness to the way you both kissed, scared it could be the last time.

"Missed you," She whispered against your lips. Your mouths slid together, tongues pressing and exploring. The intensity of the kiss speaks volumes, like you were making up for lost time. Her lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, lingering kisses, setting your body on fire.

“Fuck, Hazel.” It was almost embarrassing how quickly you melted beneath her touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” You say, your voice strained, a soft moan escaping your lips. You very much wanted to be doing this, you just thought you should at least try to seem like you had stronger breakup morals than you did. Her hands found the curve of your ass, and you instinctively started to rock your hips slowly back and forth, seeking some much-needed friction.

"Do you want me to stop? Say the word, and I'll stop, pretty girl," she murmured against your neck, her open-mouthed kisses and gentle suction on your pulse point sending shivers down your spine. You didn't reply with words, but your fingers found her hair, silently urging her to continue. "I need an answer, babygirl,"

"Don't stop," you breathed, your voice catching in your throat. "Please, don't stop." Your hips still lazily moving on her. Her mouth was back on yours, deepening the kiss as she guided you both down, her hands roaming over the back of your legs and your ass. She tugged at the hem of your shirt, helping you out of it and leaving you in your black lace bra.

"So fucking perfect. Missed you so fucking much," she confessed,

"I missed you too, Haze, every day," you whined,

"You ever think about me? she asked, breathless. "About this?" she continued

You nodded, your breath hitching as you confessed, "All the time. Couldn't stop thinking about you, your hands, your mouth."

Her eyes darken as you sit up and effortlessly unhook your bra, leaning back down, your lips finding their way to her collarbone, marking a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. Your hands slowly creep their way up under her shirt, seeking permission. She nods, a silent affirmation, and you gently peel her shirt off over her head. Your stomach flips as you feel her arms effortlessly turn both of you over, trading places, landing on your back as she hovers over you. Her silver chain dangling above your face. It felt like your first time all over again, you felt a sense of shyness creeping over you under her gaze. Anticipation and excitement blooming in your chest.

“Fuck, look at you.” She says. The way she’s studying you makes you feel like the most beautiful thing to ever exist, as if every curve of your body is a masterpiece deserving of praise. Unable to contain your impatience, you pull her head down to meet your lips, your hips instinctively bucking up, frustration showing in the heated moment. Her fingers start to trail downwards under your skirt, meeting your clothed cunt. “You want me to fuck you? Hm?” She whispers in your ear, “Is that what you want baby?” She taunts, her fingers slowly grazing over your underwear.

You nod vigorously, your enthusiasm evident. She responds by sucking on your neck again, sending shivers down your spine, your face flushed with heat. Your hands instinctively tug at her hair.

“Yes, Haze, please, fuck.” You arch your neck, pressing it firmly into the softness of the pillow beneath, a small gasp escaping your lips as you surrender to the moment. “Want your fingers inside of me.”

She makes a noise of desperation, her warm breath fanning over your face. “Gonna make you feel so good baby” She moves your underwear to the side, running her fingers through your slick folds. You gasp and she groans. “Wanna make it up to you.”

She tugs at the waistband of your skirt. You lift your hips as she guides it down along with your underwear. Hazel curses under her breath, “You’re so wet, it’s so fucking hot.” She plants kisses all over your chest, each one feeling like it could set you on fire.

She slowly fucks you with her middle finger, the touch leaving you reeling. She adds her ring finger, her free hand snaking under your neck. Her fingers gently grab the side of your face while she fucks you, slightly tugging and grazing them against your parted lips. It's an intimate gesture, conveying both tenderness and desire.

Your hips buck up to meet her fingers. “Holy fuck” you groan as she pumps them faster into you. “Like that,” your voice is completely shot. Your entire body fizzed from the contact. You gently bite down on her fingers near your mouth while she places kisses all over your cheeks and your lips. Your head spun with thoughts of her - her mouth, her hair, her scent, Hazel was everywhere, all-encompassing.

“Fuck, you’re so good” She half slurs, her voice wrecked, pupils blown and her lips parted. “So good for me.” She whispers, keeping her pace, dragging her digits through the wetness at your core.

Her mouth makes its way down your body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses until she’s on her stomach between your thighs. Pumping faster, her lips suck at your clit. Her other hand presses down on your abdomen, holding you in place. You cup your aching tits, feeling them move with every motion she makes.

“Hazel,” you whine, “Haze, I-” Her fingers pick up the pace, curling inside of you. You tread your fingers through her hair, tugging slightly, the coil in your tummy growing tighter and tighter.

“I know, honey, I know,” She says in response to your moans. “You sound so pretty baby, missed those sounds so much.” She keeps babbling, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look for her.

“Fuck, don’t stop” you moan as she continues fucking you with her mouth and fingers, her pace alternating between teasing and fast, pushing you toward the edge. The contrast in her movements intensifies the pleasure, almost giving you want you want but flaking at the last moment, it’s torture.

“Shit, you’re almost there sweetheart” Hazel swears under her breath, voice laced with her own arousal. Her words drive you closer to the edge. You swear you can see stars as the overwhelming feeling shocks through your body. Your heart rate picks up immensley, pounding in your chest.

“Gonna come for me baby, yeah?” “Want you to come all over these fingers.”

And you did. Your body clenches around her fingers, trembling, moans and curses spilling from your lips. Your eyes form with tears from the overstimulation. Her face landed in the crook of your neck, planting sloppy kisses and whispering reassurances as she guides you through the climax.

“Good girl, that’s it, honey. That’s it,” she murmurs.

Her fingers still slowly pumping in and out of you, riding out your high.

“Holy shit," you say once you've caught your breath. "Haze, c'mere." She lifts her head back up and you yank her face down to yours, tasting yourself on her lips as she lets out a soft moan. When you eventually pull away, both breathless, you lock eyes before bursting into disbelieving laughter.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You whisper.

"I can," she says smugly. You playfully shove her before she collapses beside you. Both of you lie face to face, studying each other's features, committing them to memory, afraid you might forget what they look like. Her hand rests on your waist, mindlessly grazing up and down.

"What's the real reason you didn't come to the party? You ask. Were you with someone else?" Hazel shakes her head.

She pauses before speaking, "I thought if there was any chance of you being there, that I was gonna walk in and maybe see you with someone else. There was no way I could've handled that. I've been distracting myself with other girls, yeah, but..." Her voice trails off. "You have no idea how in love with you I still am." Her voice cracking with emotion. You can see a tear forming in Hazel’s eye, glimmering in the low light of the room.

“Hazel..” Your own voice slightly breaking. You reach out and drag your thumb delicately against her cheek, wiping the stray tear away. Your heart is breaking with a mixture of guilt and longing for the girl lying beside you.

“I still play pretend, in my head.” She whispers.

You smile, your hand resting on her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, a signal of encouragement for her to keep going.

“I picture us, living together in our apartment in the city.”

Hazel was moving to New York City to work for her aunt after graduation. The reason you broke up, neither of you wanting to do long distance.

“Waking up next to you everyday, cooking you breakfast, fucking you on the countertop for hours” You both laugh at that. “Ever since I met you, I’ve always pictured you just being there. And these past few months…”

“Absolute hell.” You finish for her.

“Absolute hell.” She agrees.

You take her hand and squeeze it, a silent form of reassurance.

She shifts slightly and hovers over you again, brushing your damp hair off your forehead with her hand, and scans your face. “I don’t want this to end” she whispers.

You wish you could capture this moment, tuck it away, and replay it whenever you wanted. You’ve been waiting for her to say these exact words for the past three months, you just never thought it would happen. The reason for your break-up still heavily taunts the back of your mind.

“I love you” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. Taking her face in your hand and capturing her in another kiss. She kisses you sweetly and desperately.

You pull away, gently coaxing her back towards you, and cuddle her into your chest, assuming the role of the big spoon.

She nestles into your arms, finding comfort in the warmth of your body. With a soft sigh, she murmurs, "I wish we had more time.”

You tighten your hold around her, "We'll figure something out, I promise," you whisper, though you aren’t even sure of the reality of your own words. You choose to let go of the uncertainties, preferring to revel in the present moment. She looks back at you, and you kiss her forehead, a silent promise to cherish what you have, even if time feels fleeting.

“God damn full moon.” You mutter to yourself, remembering your earlier conversation at the party.

“What?” She asks.

“Nothing.” You say. “Don’t worry about it.” You kiss her shoulder, settling into the softness of the moment.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

tagging @astroph1les @vster0769

#hazel callahan #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan fanfic #ruby cruz #wlw #sapphic #Spotify

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anonymous-dentist · 9 months ago

Text

On April 25, Cellbit finds himself crashing onto a tropical island filled with the weirdest goddamn people he's ever met in his life.

(On one side of the glass is Cellbit. On the other is a man in a red hoodie who takes one look at Cellbit and winks before rushing to talk to the other trapped Brazilians.

For a moment, Cellbit swears there's a spark- a literal pink spark in the air directly between the two of them where they had locked eyes, and he swears that the man's eyes glitter the same pink just for a second.

But that's ridiculous. It's probably a concussion. Or something.)

On April 26, Cellbit wakes up to a heavy pain in his chest and back and a foreign weight to his limbs as he tries rolling over in bed. There's a pressure behind his eyes, all... all two of them.

Cellbit's eyelids twitch unhappily as a ray of incoming sunlight hits them from the window.

He hisses, and that's when he notices two very important things:

He doesn't have two eyes. He knows the familiar discomfort of keeping one's eyes closed when they're ready to open, and he can recognize the fact that this discomfort is multiplied by goddamn two. That makes... four eyes.

He isn't in his own bed. He went to sleep without a blanket or a pillow, just his hat and his jacket because, big surprise, spending most of the day in a cave didn't get him any luxuries besides a sore back and a definitely-not-dead child.

Cellbit opens his eyes, all four of them, and he's only a little surprised to see that he is not, in fact, in his own house.

"What?" he croaks.

He grimaces. Sore throat, almost like he'd been screaming in his sleep. Nothing he isn't used to, but it doesn't feel right in this body. In... whoever's body this is.

He pushes himself so that he's sitting up and against the wall. His chest pulls with every movement of his arms, muscles twinging in pain, and it almost reminds him of the War, almost. (He caused wounds like this, anyway. He didn't get hurt like this. He was too good.)

He looks down. Spider-Man boxer briefs. Naked chest, huge scar cut across the middle of it over his heart. Hairy legs, bruised arms and knuckles.

Vaguely, he thinks that he recognizes the house. Kinda. Sort of. Maybe? But he'd only seen the outside, and it would be crazy if his soulmate turned out to be that guy.

But, well. There's only one spider hybrid on the island that Cellbit knows about. Maybe there are more, but he's pretty sure that he met everyone yesterday. (He thinks; he was pretty distracted by the whole what the fuck I have a child now??? thing.)

Cellbit should be happy. And he kinda feels like it, in a distant way. But it's with a sense of numb fear that he grabs Roier's communicator off of the bedside table and opens a new message with... himself? His comm. That Roier has. Because he's in his body. At his house.

[iRoier whispers to Cellbit: I think we have a problem]

When Cellbit had finally officially turned 16 years old, Bad sat down in the middle of a warzone and told him that, one of these days, he might wake up in the body of one of his enemies.

"What?" Cellbit had grimaced, blood coating his face and crusting under his nails. "Why? Is that a new origin or something?"

Bad shook his head. "No, you goof. It's a soulmate thing. You know. Soulmates."

And that's when he realized that Cellbit's amnesia really was, in fact, amnesia. Of course he wouldn't have remembered his parents giving him the Soulmate Talk, Cellbit- at the time- didn't believe that he even had parents. ("I was born from blood, and to blood I shall return," he said when Bad tried asking, so Bad stopped bothering after a while.)

And so it fell to BadBoyHalo to give Cellbit the Soulmate Talk.

"When you turn 16, the universe assigns you a soulmate," Bad had explained. "And when you meet that soulmate, you'll both switch bodies with each other overnight. It'll only last 24 hours, though, so it should be fine if you meet your soulmate out here."

Cellbit had blinked, confused. "What? Ew, no."

Because, as romantic as the idea of soulmates sounds, Cellbit was a 16-year-old boy. Why would he give a shit about his soulmate when he could be thinking about, like, blood and violence and stuff.

By the time Cellbit was arrested, he had finally warmed up to the idea of having a soulmate if only because having someone assigned to him by the universe meant that there'd be someone on the outside willing to break him out of prison and help him get his revenge on all the fuckers who had dared try and mess with him while he was in there.

But then, after prison- after everything, Cellbit had realized that maybe he wasn't meant to have a soulmate, after all. Why would he? Why would the universe be so kind as to give him someone to care about who would actually love him back? Who would like him back?

Whoever his soulmate might've been, Cellbit had always hoped that they were dead. They'd be better off dead than stuck with a monster like him.

By the time Roier makes it to his own house, the sun is high in the sky and Cellbit has managed to find a a shirt and a pair of shorts to throw on on top of his underwear. (On top of Roier's underwear?)

Bobby is still asleep upstairs, Cellbit thinks. At least, he hasn't heard anything from him. Should he be worried?

But then Cellbit looks out the window and watches his body trip over itself on the dirt and faceplant, and, well, Bobby can wait.

Roier's body is... heavy as Cellbit pulls a pair of shoes on. It doesn't want to cooperate, but that can't be right, it's supposed to be natural. Or something. Cellbit thinks. Maybe.

So he doesn't actually know how soulmates work, but it's supposed to be natural, right? That's how he remembers Bad explaining it, but he also remembers Bad having as much emotional awareness as a rock.

Vaguely, he wonders if the problem isn't with the fact that it's Cellbit being in Roier's body but that it's because it's Roier's body and that this is just how it is for Roier all the time. But that's none of Cellbit's business.

(Yet.)

(Maybe.)

(Eventually?)

(Turn the detective brain off, fuck.)

Whatever!

Cellbit runs out the door and goes to help Roier up. He isn't hurt at all as Roier swears at him and grumbles and pushes himself up onto his knees.

"I'm fine," he insists. "See?"

He gestures towards himself with a sharp-toothed grin, eyes squinted shut, and, wow, it's weird for Cellbit to see himself smile. His body doesn't really... do that. It's unnatural. Kinda creepy, like looking into a fucked-up mirror.

Cellbit offers an awkward smile in response, and it hurts. Not his face, no, his soul. Well, not his soul, because that would be silly, but some weird little part inside his Everything stings and pulses with a dull, throbbing pain so sudden and harsh that his throat chokes up and tears threaten to well up in Cellbit's eyes.

With a shuddering breath, Cellbit drops his smile and his eyes. He looks at the ground, and he says, "Uh. We should talk inside, maybe?"

He doesn't wait for a response before turning on his heel and walking back into Roier's house. He does hold the door open, though, remembering that Roier's house has that weird security thing on the door that keeps everybody but him out.

"Your legs are too short," Roier complains as he brushes past Cellbit and walks into the house. "I keep tripping over shit."

"...I'm sorry?" Cellbit offers. (He internally smacks himself. No, stupid, why is he sorry? He can't control his genetics, fuck!)

Roier waves him off. "Nah, it's fine. It's just for today, right?"

He sits at his table with a groan, eyes slipping shut and head tilting over the back of the chair. He looks so... calm. Which means that Cellbit's actual real normal face looks calm, and that's weird. He doesn't do calm.

Hesitantly, Cellbit joins him at the table. He sits directly opposite him, leg bouncing nervously, hands clasped in his lap.

And then? Silence. Absolutely nothing but the slight rattle of the table as Cellbit's (Roier's?) knee bumps against it and the quiet sound of snoring from upstairs. (So Bobby is still asleep. That's normal, right?)

Cellbit glances at the goggles still firmly on his body's head.

"Thanks for keeping them on," he lamely says.

Roier hums a question mark and cracks an eye open, following Cellbit's gaze. He smiles, then, small and clearly fake.

"Hey, man, it's fine," he replies. "It kind of hurts, but it's fine."

Cellbit winces. "I mean, you can take them off! It's fine, it's just us."

Roier shrugs, but he doesn't move to take the goggles off.

Quiet again.

This is... fine. It's fine! Cellbit's soulmate is just a guy who probably maybe dislikes him, that's all. It's nothing he wasn't expecting from his soulmate, he knows how he is as a person. Roier is probably just disappointed, that's all.

"We don't have to do anything, you know," Cellbit says after a moment.

He looks back down at the table as Roier sits up to look at him.

Cellbit wrings his hands together, fingers hooking together and pulling-pushing and they throb from the bruises, and where did Roier get them, anyway? From the pattern, Cellbit would say Roier had punched something, but here are also small cuts indicating the involvement of glass, and-

(Detective brain. Off.)

"I mean, it's crazy, right?" Cellbit laughs weakly. "Us, soulmates? We don't even know each other."

"I mean, yeah, but that's normal, I think. You don't know your soulmate until you meet them, that's how it works."

"I guess? But-"

"And!" Roier interjects. "I know you better already! You sleep with your sword and you have cat ears, that's more than I know about half of my dates!"

Cellbit winces at the mention of his ears, but he manages to huff out a quiet laugh. He even feels himself smile, though it hurts bad enough for him to force it away after a moment.

"Okay," he breathes, and he looks up to meet Roier's (his own?) eyes. "So... it's fine?"

"What the fuck do you think I've been saying, pendejo?" Roier exclaims. He reaches across the table and lightly taps Cellbit on the forehead between his top set of eyes. "I know my body isn't deaf, so start listening."

He sits again, continuing speaking before Cellbit can say anything:

"I don't know you, and that's fine. You don't know me, and that's fine. You threatened my son yesterday, and that's fine. I'll threaten your son to make it even."

"Hey!" Cellbit protests.

Roier ignores him and keeps talking. "We're stuck on this island, Cellbit. We aren't allowed to leave. If we try, Osito Bimbo shoots us. So that gives us plenty of time to get to know each other."

Cellbit's eyes widen in alarm. "We're what?"

He thinks he remembers somebody mentioning that to him and the others yesterday, but there was so much going on that he didn't really register it. Prison, again? At least it's open-air this time...

Roier shrugs his concerns off with a literal wave of the hand. "So see? It's fine. We'll figure each other out, and then we'll kiss and have sex and stuff. Right?"

"Um," Cellbit stammers, the tips of his ears going red. "Maybe just the kissing part."

"Sure, sure. Point is..." Roier stands out of his chair and leans across the table, reaching down and pulling Cellbit's hands out of his lap. He holds them and looks Cellbit in the eyes and gravely asks, "...Cellbit, will you be my soulmate?"

Cellbit rolls his eyes and gently pulls his hands away. "I don't think I get a choice."

"Aw, come on! You're no fun," Roier pouts.

"There, that's a third thing you know about me."

"Shut up, what the fuck?"

And as the argument continues, the weight in Cellbit's heart slowly starts to lift. Just a little, because it's just the beginning, but maybe... maybe having a soulmate won't be that bad, after all.

-_-_-_-

A/N:

Thank you so much for reading! Please reblog maaaaaaaybe with a comment or a tag and tell me what you think! Or send an ask, I'm fine with anything!

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#or: a soulmate au :D #guapoduo #spiderbit #well. pre-relationship i suppose #this one is full of Implications #it's short but like i'm sleepy and i have a tummy ache so this is fine

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iclarye · 1 year ago

Text

Nothing Serious

pairing: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

summary: you had no idea why you were so concerned about whether or not your relationship with zoro was serious. you both were certainly merely supporting each other, especially in the midst of the ocean, where people crave tenderness.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ content, a lot of talking, eventual smut, oral sex (f receiving), face-fucking, face-sitting.

ao3 link: nothing serious

authors note: english is not my first language. enjoy!

“You'll see him tonight.”

You inhaled the cigarette smoke till your lungs burned. It wasn't the first, second, or third time Sanji had brought up the matter; you were tired. Leaning against the rail of the ship, smoke encircled the two of you.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” You took another inhalation before giving the blonde's cigarette back. “Anyway, it's nothing serious, whatever you're thinking, I assure you.”

He snorted, and you could see he wasn't buying what you were saying. After years of working together at Baratie, Sanji was able to read you like a book. “Oh, please, darling, I believe that at this point only Luffy is unaware of what is happening between you two.”

“Again, it's nothing serious. He's only a friend.”

“No, darling, I'm your friend; Nami is your friend; he's…” He dropped the rest of his cigarette in the sea and began to head to the kitchen to prepare dinner, yet not before lingering at the door to give you a sidelong glance. “Zoro is a very complicated person, I'm just saying. I think he has something going on in his moss head. If you happen to want to keep doing this, be careful.”

You continue to wander the deck of the ship while mulling over the conversation until the sun eventually sets and darkness falls. It was nothing serious. Zoro was really easy to be around; there were no challenges when you were around him. He was additionally very hot. Nothing that had been going on between you two had anything to do with the fact that whenever you felt that your pirate life was getting to be too much, you would always flee to his embrace in the dead of night. Especially in the midst of the ocean, people crave tenderness. Zoro was simply there to help you.

However, once the two of you have had enough sex, he embraces you and plays with your hair until you nod off. Or how he always tries his hardest to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as he does, despite his issues with feeling vulnerable when you're topping. Or how he took a mattress so sex wouldn't be uncomfortable on the hard ground or leaning against a wall.

"Fucking Sanji, what does he have to do with what I do?" You murmured to yourself as you walked into the dimly lit kitchen, which was already packed with the crew dining at the table and savoring the food the blonde had prepared.

Dinner went quickly, and you just engaged in the conversations surrounding the upcoming supply gathering. Zoro's gaze tracked your movements, and you couldn't help but blush when you caught his attention in you. It was foolish, and even he looked puzzled by your behavior.

“If you'll excuse me, I need to wash the dishes to avoid a buildup.” You swiftly rose out of your chair as you began to pick up the dirty plates from the table. “Sanji, come with me.”

You were furiously scrubbing the plates when Sanji caught up with you at the sink and lit a cigarette “What's going on?”

You didn't know exactly what was going on. Outside of the nocturnal meetings, your relationship with Zoro was always easygoing; neither of you ever brought up your activities nor anything odd that might have addressed it. “It’s nothing serious, right? We're pirates, after all, so it makes sense that we would sleep with each other. He may have another female on a random island.”

If not for the fact that he had no random girls lying around, he had casually revealed to you that you were the only person he had slept with in the past few months. Why had he told you this?

“I don’t know what exactly you want me to say, love.”

“This is all your fault; I would have been perfectly normal if you hadn't started off with the idea of being serious or not.”

Sanji gave you a bored face, as he didn't seem stunned by anything. He snorted as he peered over your shoulder at the crew's still-occupied table. “Talk to him.”

You mumbled something indecipherable, hoping to put an end to the conversation. You didn't want to tell Zoro your thoughts because it might make everything too genuine, too real. Also, you couldn't help thinking that he may taunt you and assure you that what you two are doing is simply a casual fuck.

Even if you begged the gods for time to move more slowly, or even if you stood by in the kitchen a little longer to help the blonde clean the counters, you knew that eventually you would have to face Zoro.

As you walked down the stairs to the storage room, you limited yourself to positive thoughts; perhaps he won't notice your odd behavior; maybe he won't even give you a chance to speak before he picks you up by the hips, tosses you onto the mattress, and then takes you in such a way that you'll have to stifle your moans.

“Hey.” He was undoubtedly waiting for you for some time, as he was sitting on the mattress without his shirt on. You wondered how much time you spent helping Sanji in the kitchen. “C’mon here.”

Without looking him in the eyes, you untied your bra, dropped your shirt while approaching him, and just kneeled low enough to straddle his thighs. “Guess someone had been waiting for me."

“You look... so... pretty.” You moaned as one of Zoro's hands reached and pinched one of your nipples. “So perfect, only for me.”

He begins kissing and pinching the skin on your neck and jaw while stroking your breasts, yet your attention doesn't turn to the sensations in your body. For the thousandth time since your previous talk, you ponder whether he viewed you as special, whether or not he did what he does with you with others, if he engaged them in conversation about their insecurities, if he also talked about his childhood, if he also...

“What are you thinking?”

You emerged from your thoughts and let out a sigh as you regretted having come to see him with those thoughts in your head. You should have gone directly to your room and trusted that he would get the message. In short, you shouldn't have shown up.

“Could you just fuck me, please? I'm not in the best mood, Zoro.”

“No, I won’t fuck you when you’re barely here.” He threw out a sigh of annoyance at the situation at hand. ”Just tell me what's going on; you've been acting oddly since dinner.”

“Are we serious?”

The green-haired one grew silent and turned to face the wall behind you. As the room fell quiet, you tensed in his lap and started getting ready to get up and leave when he grabbed your hips roughly.

“I told you that I wasn't seeing anyone.” You could see a hint of color on Zoro's cheeks, as he was reluctant to look into your eyes. “I thought that meant quite the deal.”

“Oh. Oh. Are you for real? I didn’t realize this meant that.”

The realization made you feel embarrassed. It was so simple, yet you had been thinking about this particular comment of his for days. Of course, the careless manner in which he talked affected your understanding, but it was so fucking obvious.

“Y/N, I like you. But I don’t do this bullshit of boyfriend and girlfriend,it’s too... childish.” When he turned to face you, the inside of your chest started getting warm. “So, I really enjoy you. If you want to go tell Nami or the waiter that we are more than crewmates, sure, no problem, whatever.”

There was nothing you could say to express your delight other than a soft kiss, so you gave him that. You knew it wasn't a declaration of love; it's very likely that you weren't at that point in the relationship, but it was something.

“Just don't expect me to brag, kiss you on the deck or do anything cliche. You know that I am not like that.”

“Yeah, I know that.” Your lips curled into a faint smile. “I kind of like the private thing we have right here.’’

“Well, then, can we continue what we were doing? I mean, no offense, but it's difficult to pay attention with your boobs that close.”

You had barely finished nodding when his lips crashed into yours. He began nipping and sucking your lower lip between his teeth before sliding his tongue inside your mouth. His hands went right to your breast, and you whimpered when he lightly pinched your left nipple.

“Oh, Y/N…” Zoro mumbled, his pupils expanded, and his eyes grew dimmer. “I want you to sit on my face.”

“W-what? Why?”

Several times throughout your six or seven months with Zoro, he found himself between your legs. Receiving orals has never been an issue for you; in fact, he might actually like giving you orals due to how you wriggle under him.

But no, not in the way that he was requesting. The green-haired man was always reluctant when you were keen on riding his dick or being in any other position where he was at the bottom and “vulnerable”. Even though he never said it verbally, you could tell by the way he always tensed.

“What do you mean why, I want to eat you puss-“

“No, I know that.” You cut him off; it seemed odd that he wanted to do the position right then; you didn't want him to perform the deed out of a moral duty or anything similar. “Just, you know, you don't enjoy it when I'm topping.”

“Y/N… It's not that I don't enjoy it'” He cocked his head to the side while offering you kisses and hickeys in your neck. “Normally, I don't feel at ease. You, though, are the exception, and I want to make you feel good.”

You stopped straddling him to get off the mattress and take off the rest of your clothes. You felt his eyes watch you until you heard a noise that was obviously his body lying down completely on the mattress. Nervousness rose in your body as you returned to your starting position on his lap.

“It's alright, babe, come on up.” You were taken aback by Zoro's unexpected pet name—he never used that kind of thing—as his hands got to your waist.

He helped you climb up his body to his head, where you found yourself sitting on top of the green-haired face. But fuck, you dismissed all your anxieties the moment you felt his hot breath travel down your center.

“So wet for me.” You feel a rush of pleasure as you hear his breathy voice. “C’mon let me taste you”

He pushes you down by placing his hands on the inner sides of your thighs. Your folds are immediately warmed by Zoro's exploratory mouth heat. You whimpered as he ran his tongue over the length of your pussy, up and down, just to get a fickle at your clit and amplify your screams.

Zoro toys with the bundle of nerves with his teeth as he slides his tongue into you slowly. He knows exactly how to get you immediately over the edge. At first, the sensation is odd, yet gradually it causes your eyes to roll back in ecstasy. He is skilled at fucking you in every way possible.

“Y/N, I-” He stopped moving his head and breathed heavily into your core, “Ride me.”

The waves of pleasure pulsing through you nearly caused you to ask him to repeat what he had just said. If it weren't for Zoro's hands reaching to your ass and guiding you to move against his face, the lack of expertise probably would paralyzed you.

So you did ride him. You initially felt a little ashamed of the newly acquired control you had until you reached the ideal angle where his tongue pierced you and their teeth scraped your clit as you rocked back and forth.

“Oh, fuck Zoro, fuck..”

The green-haired man's hands were groping you blindly, squeezing your thigh and ass so thougly that it would probably have marks in the morning. You were drawn closer to his face as a result of his claws piercing right through the flesh.

You flung back your head as pleasure overtook you. Grabbing Zoro's hair with both hands and moving his face to find more friction, already too out of it to care what he felt.

You feel a rush of vibrations go through you as he moans into your core, and you just know that you’re close. Your walls clenched around Zoro's tongue as you rocked faster against his face.

“I-I’m so close”

You cum with a muffled scream of the green-haired man's name, and he continues fucking you through your orgasm, your body already getting tired from the overstimulation.

You're not sure how you got out of the position, but when you open your eyes, you're lying next to him, still gasping for air. You feel something shifting towards you, and when you look, Zoro is looking directly at your state.

“Are you alright?”

“No, I should be the one asking you that. Fuck, that was good”

He licks his juicy lips with his eyes half-open, completely pussy drunk. You suppose you should have an odd expression because he laughs, and you think you could hear that sound for the rest of your life.

You look away and end up coming into line of sight with his crotch, completely marked by his hard cock, which must be hurting at the time. You bring your hands to the waistband of his pants, but he stops you.

“No. Today was for you, only for you.” His tone is solemn, and you lack the strength to disagree or try to persuade him.

So you lie there next to each other, your body aching from the circumstances, but your mind is completely clear. You did not want to leave; you wanted to remain there forever, but you know it's past midnight and you both need to go to your rooms.

He gets up first. He's awkward and trying to hide his erection, despite the fact that you are already aware of it. “I need to go; you know, this mattress is not that comfortable…”

“Yeah, me too. I’m going in one minute.”

He comes to a halt just before the door, peering into your eyes one last time. “You should ride my dick next time.”

You can't stop your chuckle, and he grins as he leaves and closes the door.

You don't know how long you stayed on that mattress staring at the ceiling, remembering the whole night over and over again. You just know that when you finally got back to your room and finally let the tiredness get to you, it didn't take long for Nami to wake you up for the day.

Your body was sore; there were purple marks on your neck, thighs, and butt but everything was fine. When you arrived in the kitchen to have breakfast, he was there, like every day, but this time there was a tiny bit of difference in the way he said good morning to you.

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fangirlika · 2 years ago

Text

You Have My Heart

MASTERLIST

pairing: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

summary: It’s the last Grand Prix of the season and Charles is dying to ask you that one big question before you both go out onto the track.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, I think that’s it - typos probably

“Y/n, you have to be out by the car in 10 minutes!”, one of the Ferrari people yelled from outside your driver’s room.

It was just mere minutes before the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the last race of the season, and you were just getting ready in your driver’s room, trying to calm your nerves.

The chances for another win for Ferrari weren’t low, the season went incredibly well for both you and Charles, your boyfriend. Both of you managed to bag wins and several podiums this season and Charles was closer than ever to winning the WDC.

You were genuinely hoping for the best for both of you today. Right when you wanted to start another breathing exercise, someone knocked on the door to the room.

But before you could even invite the person in, the door was opened and revealed your very stressed Charles. He hectically closed the door behind him and searched the room with his eyes before they found you sitting on the small couch.

“Charles-“, before you could say anything else, he interrupted you: “I need to ask you something, it’s important and, and-“, he seemed to be searching for words to say and you slowly stood up from the couch, now standing right in front of him and looking into his eyes.

"I'm not going to stop trying to overtake you on the track today if that is what you wanted to ask from me", you joked with a small grin on your face, hoping it would calm him down a little. Indeed he chuckled lightly before shaking his head no.

"No, no, you can still try to get past me today, I mean, you deserve the win as well as I do and-", he started to ramble and you frowned your eyebrows trying to understand where he was going, "I have a good chance for winning the title this year and that's why I wanted to came to you before the race so you wouldn't think I was just asking you because of the adrenaline and all-"

You gently placed your hands on either side of his cheeks and tried to make him look at you. "Charles, love, you're not making much sense right now… what is going on?"

Charles took a deep breath before starting to speak again: "I know that you're not a big fan of these big and cheesy proposals with long speeches, and this is really anything but romantic if I'm being honest, but it serves me well because I wouldn't know how to put my love for you into words anyways."

He stopped his monologue to pull his left hand from behind his back, which you didn't even noticed he kept there, and in his hand he held a little velvet box. The realisation of what was happening settled in shortly after that and you moved one of your hands from his cheek to place it over your mouth in shock.

"Y/n, you've had my heart for years and I really cannot imagine my life without you by my side anymore, therefore-", he took a small pause to open the box and reveal a silver ring sitting inside the box. It was simple but it was perfect. "- I want to ask if you would do me the honour of marrying me and become my wife."

You noticed his hands were shaking a little with the box in his hand and you quickly put your hands around his. You started nodding your head and your eyes became teary. When you looked up at him again you were met with the eyes you fell so deeply in love with, the eyes that were now so overfilled with hope and adoration that it all threatened to spill from them in form of little tears that also started forming in his eyes.

"Yes!", you simply said with the biggest smile forming on your lips. Charles' face and shoulders visibly relaxed and he leaned his head forward to press his lips onto yours. Your hands moved back to his cheeks as you deepened the kiss.

You had kissed Charles hundreds of times, thousands even, but no kiss ever felt so loving like this one.

After a few moments, Charles broke the kiss to pull the ring out of the box and you held your right hand out for him to put the ring on it.

He did so and the ring fit perfectly around your ring finger. "We are getting married", you whispered. Charles held your hands in his and leaned his forehead against yours. "We are."

You let yourselves stay in the moment for a little longer before you were roughly torn out of it by a loud knock on the door.

"You need to get to the track now. And try finding Charles please, we cannot find him!"

You two giggled and broke apart and Charles made antics to go open the door. "Wait", you said and that got Charles to turn around to you again. "I cannot wear the ring during the race", you stated matter-of-factly.

"Right", Charles nodded and opened the box again for you to put the ring back in. "We can leave it here, I will lock the door", you said.

Charles' hand was already on the door handle before he stopped again and turned his head towards you, leaving you to furrow your eyebrows in confusion again.

"If I win the championship today, promise we'll get married right during the winter break?", he asked with a huge grin on his lips.

You huffed jokingly and raised an eyebrow. "And what about my dream-wedding in tuscany?"

"We can still get married there", he shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah, we will see about that after the race, champ", you laughed and pushed him through the door.

—————

"FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, CHARLES LECLERC WINS THE CHAMPIONSHIP. CHARLES LECLERC IS CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!"

The celebrations were crazy, everything felt so surreal. Charles managed to overtake Verstappen during the last lap, getting him the lead and with that, he was the winner of the entire season.

Your heart was filled with so much pride, you thought you were going to explode. You were incredibly proud of Charles but also of yourself, seeing as you managed to finish in P3, enabling both of you to stand on the podium together, celebrating both of your wins.

The crowd was going crazy as the two of you and Max all sprayed each other with the champagne. You still failed to really realise what has happened throughout the past two hours, it would probably take another two business days for that.

Charles placed his bottle of champagne to the side and came over to you, pulling you in for a hug.

"I am so proud of you, ma chérie”, he whispered into your ear. He pulled away slightly to grab something from the pocket of his driver’s suit, it was the ring box.

The entire scene around you started to become irrelevant to you, you only focusing on the man in front of you.

“You brought the ring with you?”, you asked surprised and tears threatened to form in your eyes again. The situation was all too overwhelming for you at that point.

Charles nodded with a grin on his face and pulled the ring out of the box for the second time that day. “I have to secure my future wife here”, he joked and took your right hand into his, gently placing the ring around your finger again.

“You already did that months ago, my love”, you stated and looked up at him.

You didn’t think it was possible but when the two of you kissed, the crowd managed to cheer even louder than before, causing you to finally realise that you were still in public.

However, the two of you didn’t care one bit.

In that moment, it seemed as if it was only the two of you. At least, nothing else really mattered then.

“Je t’aime”, Charles whispered against your lips. “Je t’aime aussi”, you responded.

—————

please leave some feedback and I’d love for you to check out my masterlist and my prompt-list, requests are open and dearly welcomed!! <3

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #Charles Leclerc imagine #f1 x you #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #Charles Leclerc x driver

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

Text

I Didn't Ask For This (part ten)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I really love this chapter. Let's see if you can find the reference I made in here. I honestly make so many references in the fics I write, but no one has noticed them.

Anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The tension in the air could have been cut by a blunt knife.

The most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian was staring down one of the most feared man in Prythian, the Spymaster of the Night Court.

They were nearly chest to chest, and Y/n feared that if someone didn't step in, this place would be bathed in blood. So she cleared her throat.

Azriel looked at her, brows furrowed.

"I– can we go back? Can you take me back?"

"Sure–" As he began to turn to her, the High Lord's hand shot out, clamping down on his shoulders. Azriel glared at the hand and then it's owner.

"Cassian can take her back. Or if its him you want to go with, please wait for sometime." Rhys glanced at her while saying the second part. "My office. Now." He threw at Azriel before stalking out of the room.

Everyone watched him go, a muscle feathering in Azriel's jaw as he turned to her. "Don't worry about me. I'll be there soon." With that, he turned and followed Rhys.

Y/n's stomach turned as she thought about what could happen to Azriel. The high lord was said to be ruthless and cunning, and even though he hadn't seemed like it when they first met, she didn't know if she could sit still until she was sure that her husband was safe. The urge to follow him and make sure he wouldn't be harmed was overpowering any sense she had, but before she could take a step, Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder.

He tilted his head towards the door, and she nodded. Glancing back one last time to where Azriel had disappeared, she followed Cassian outside.

She stayed quiet the whole time, muttering a thanks to Cassian when they landed before locking herself in her room.

She couldn't stop thinking about Azriel and what he'd done today. Allegedly done today.

She changed into her nightgown, climbing into bed hoping to sleep. Maybe then her mind would stop trying to find some meaning in his actions. Maybe then her heart would stop trying to make her feel things she didn't want to feel.

•○🌑○•

It had been almost more than an hour now, and Y/n couldn't sleep no matter what she did. With a huff of annoyance, she threw the covers aside and stood, stomping to the balcony and leaning against the railing. Her minds inability to just shut the hell up was frustrating.

As her mind drifted through the plethora of thoughts in her head again, she couldn't help but think back to where Azriel might be right now. Was he back yet? He would come to meet her if he was, right?

As soon as she had those thoughts, she heard the familiar scuff of boots coming near, and her chest started loosening. From the sound of it, the door opened and closed behind her, but she didn't turn. She couldn't, because she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from throwing her arms around him and slapping him at the same time. She wondered which she would prefer.

She could feel him coming closer, and she gripped the railing tightly.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked quietly, having stopped a little distance away.

She shook her head. "Did you really do it?"

A pause. "Yes."

She nodded, not knowing what to say to that. He took that as a cue to step forward. She knew he did because one moment her back was cold, and the next, she could feel his body heat through the thin silk of her gown. Suddenly she felt extremely exposed, considering the thing she was wearing barely reached her knee, and it was only held up by thin strings.

She inwardly cursed Nesta for this. Y/n had never worn something like this, and when she and Nesta had started to become friends, Nesta was appaled when she realised Y/n did not sleep half naked.

"Do you have nothing to say to that?" Azriel asked, his body like a furnace behind her.

"What do you want me to say?"

"How– how do you feel about all of this?"

"I don't know..."

"Does it bother you?"

She shook her head. "No, it does not. But what about the women and children?"

"They were evacuated to safety. And your brother, he's here."

At that, she finally turned slightly to look at him. She hadn't even thought of her brother who lived in the camp. She didn't have to worry about Velda as she lived in a different camp.

Azriel towered over her, studying her.

"What?"

"He is living in an inn across the Sidra."

"Really?" When he nodded, relief spread through her. She mumbled a thank you before turning back to the view in front of her.

"Your....your father is alive."

She stiffened. "What?" She whispered.

"He burned in the fire, but I just felt like he didn't suffer enough for his crimes." He stated casually, as if he was telling her about the weather.

She blinked at the night sky before asking the same question again.

"I bought him here. He is where we keep all the prisoners and I... interrogate them. He is badly injured and won't be able to escape. I wanted to ask you before I did anything to him."

She knew exactly what he meant with that.

"What did you want to ask."

"You were the one who suffered from his ministrations. You deserve the right to punish him however you want. You can either let him live, give him a quick death or let me handle him."

"What would letting you handle him entail?"

"I'll go all Spymaster on him. I'll do all the things I do to the prisoners to get information out of them."

She nodded. Thinking for some time, she finally decided. "Then I'll let you handle him."

He was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

His hands landed on either side of her on the railing as he leaned closer. "Thank you." Butterflies erupted in her stomach as he kissed her shoulder before straightening. "Come, you should sleep."

She turned to him, and ignoring her mind, she followed her heart's urge to wrap her arms around her husband. He froze for a moment before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and using the other to cradle the back of her head.

"Thank you. You didn't need to do this." She mumbled against his chest.

"I absolutely did." She pulled back from him. He smiled and kissed her forehead before tugging her back into the room.

As she lay down and he arranged the covers around her, a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Azriel? Your father and brothers lived in the camp too. What happened to them?"

He gave her a smile, and honestly she should have been scared of it. But she wasn't, and that scared her more than anything else did.

"They're dead."

"Did you see them?"

"Yes. And it gave me immense satisfaction."

"Wish I could have witnessed it."

He blinked at her, a slow smile spreading on his face. He pushed her hair back from her face as he straightened. "Hmm. Next time I do something like this, I'll make sure to take you with me."

She grinned, just a little bit, shaking her head. He stared at her for a few moments before nodding his head and turning away. "Good night."

She didn't want him to go. Atleast, not yet.

She had only a moment to make her choice, and she did.

Her heart danced with joy while her mind screamed at her that this was a bad idea.

"Azriel." She burst out before she lost her nerve.

He paused, turning back slightly. "Yes?"

"Can you– can you stay?"

He stared at her. "What? You– you want me to stay?"

Instantly, a blush was climbing up her neck. What if he didn't want to stay? She kicked herself mentally. "Only if you wish to–"

"I do." His eyes shone. "Um– do you want me to sleep on the ground? I have no problem with it."

She shook her head. "Stay next to me. Please."

The room was dark, the only light provided by the moonlight filtering in from the doors of the balcony. She almost couldn't see the flush on his neck and face as he rounded the bed, where a few clothes had appeared. He took them and walked into the bathing chamber to change.

When he walked back out he was dressed in loose pants and shirt. He slowly climbed into the bed. He was as stiff as a plank with tension as he lay as far as he could from her.

She smiled and turned on her back. "You can relax you know. You'll never get any sleep if you're that tensed up."

He sighed. "I know."

She bit her lip. "I don't bite...much."

His head whipped to her. And honestly, she agreed. She wasn't bold in any way. She didn't even know where that came from.

"Tell me about something interesting."

"Velaris was built by Rhys's father." He supplied.

"Really? Wasn't he..."

"Cruel? A monster? That he was. But he did build and protect Velaris. The only good thing he did, honestly."

"What was he like?"

Azriel began telling her about the previous High Lord of Night Court, and she listened, her attention rapt. As moments passed, his voice filling the room, he relaxed gradually. He also told her about Cassian's past and his mother.

When he was done, they stayed silent. She processed all the information that had just been dumped on her. She shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

"Would you accept an olive branch?" She nodded and he pulled her closer. Now she was as stiff as a board.

"Relax. I don't bite...much." He murmured against her hair.

She sat up abruptly. "Was that a joke Spymaster?"

He grinned, pulling her back to his chest. "Maybe." After a pause, he went on. "Sleep. I won't try anything. No funny business unless you ask for it."

"Shame." She mumbled under her breath.

"Did you say something Y/n?"

Of course the bastard heard her. "No."

"I feel like Nesta is a really bad influence on you."

"Shut up." She shoved his chest lightly. He just kissed her head and wished her a good night.

As she drifted off, she felt safer than she had felt in her whole existence. She knew he would protect her always, no matter what.

And maybe that should have scared her, but it just made her feel warm and happy, making something in her chest sing.

•○🌑○•

Part 11

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34 @aria-chikage

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judasgot-it · 9 months ago

Text

Hold Me Tight (and Don't Forget Me)

Scenario: Dazai takes you out on a date the day he's arrested. Slight Warning for Jouno being an ass.

Hold Me Tight - BTS

Pt. 2

1.3 k word count

Blue skies and perfect weather - the worst, because that meant that today would be the perfect day before Dazai would ruin it once again.

It was a strange feeling to have. It was too peaceful, like a flock of seagulls waiting to be chased.

There was nothing wrong. And that was what was wrong with it.

"Dazai. Did you do something?"

You knew it was impossible to ask Dazai these questions and get an honest answer - your ability didn't work on him, so it was only a force of habit to want to interrogate him.

In response, he only smiled, like a cat that was too high for the barking dog. It made your skin bristle every time, but today he was handsy - he smoothed down your sleeves, easing your nerves with a gentle touch.

"I didn't do anything that you need to worry about. We're supposed to be focused on us, remember?"

His grin was honest, almost charming. He sipped his coffee rather loudly to make his point, drinking as if to remind you with force that you were in a diner, not at the Armed Detective Agency.

"Well, yes. But I know you, and you're only hiding the inevitable. You can tell me Dazai, we are dating."

It was weak to pull a card like that with him, but it was always worth a shot anyway. As if dating would make a difference in how Dazai acted.

The man was a mystery, sitting in front of you in his casual attire - nicer because for once, he had washed them for this occasion. He looked put together as well, hair nicely done and his face looking as a man in his younger 20s should.

He typically looked a little disheveled, hidden behind his charisma but noticeable with anyone who cared for appearances. A good smile managed to hide a lot of things, and for once you didn't need to think about it.

In your mind, you knew that something was wrong from this. The last time he had taken you out like this, he had known he would almost die from an ability user, and it was his apology beforehand.

The strange sense of doom was disconcerting; but so was Dazai's cold skin. He was always bouncing so quickly between temperatures as if he were a broken heater - but being cold? On such a warm day?

"I know we are. Just enjoy yourself babe, can't you do that for me?"

His smile was warm, enough to reach his chestnut eyes - treated with a light varnish from the sunlight penetrating the windows. Whatever warmth his body did have, he must have given it to you through that smile, because now you felt just a little hot.

"I don't like you sometimes."

You averted from his gaze, still holding onto his hand despite this. Dazai didn't say anything, his fingers gently tracing patterns along the hair on your wrists.

"Your face says otherwise. Looks like you're loving my company."

He leaned in closer, careful of your plates, pulling your face to match his. It was easier to kiss him than to say you had lost.

But still, something was wrong.

Dazai kissed you as if he would walk out like this was his last dinner. It wasn't hungry and yet it wasn't polite - it was desperate and it felt like an apology for a crime he hadn't even committed yet.

Or maybe one he already had.

It was only the middle of the day when Dazai had decided that a good way to spend your time would be horse betting.

Gambling seemed like an odd place to have a date, but it hadn't been the worst one of his ideas. At least it was outside, and it made for good conversation - even as he insisted on staying as close to the crowd as possible.

Dazai had thrown around some big money - enough to make you worried he was going to actually kill himself tonight.

He was just...strange. As the races had gone on, he had become more and more nervous, fumbling with his pockets and becoming a sort of weird handsy with you - as if you wouldn't notice the strange clamminess his skin had become.

Cold and sweaty, a strange feeling on Dazai.

You were left stuck in deep thought as you stared at the pale white horse Dazai had bet on, a bold '9' staring right back at you.

"Excuse me"

A soft and polite voice had broken you out of your thoughts, forcing you to look away from the race - you had won, and a little bit of relief was felt knowing that Dazai was at least lucky enough to have not blown his last three paychecks on horse racing.

"Would either of you happen to know who won this race?"

His eyes were closed, while his smile seemed...off. Your ability was near constant in your mind, and you could feel how wrong this man was. He didn't really care which horse won that race.

"Number 9 won." In your silence, Dazai responded for you, smiling as if this were an idle conversation. He hadn't seemed to notice the scheming mask the man wore, like a fox ready to jump for the canary.

"So you won then, right? You seem quite pleased with yourself after all."

"Wow! How'd you know all of that?"

You tried to lean closer to Dazai, almost feeling how wrong the man was. It was almost like he knew something you didn't, and it was disturbing to you. His smile practically was still friendly, nothing wrong. But it felt almost as cutting as a knife.

"After I had lost my sight, I had gained new senses - I can hear your heart rates, smell your fear, and even feel your future in my back pocket."

Swiftly, the man had handcuffed himself to Dazai, revealing a pair of sharp canines behind his wicked smile.

"And I know that you, Osamu Dazai, are going to be arrested for 138 counts of conspiracy to murder, 312 counts of extortion, and 625 counts of assorted fraud. I could keep going, but I feel like your fiancé has heard more than enough."

Dazai turned to you, his face paler than the cumulonimbus clouds that towered the sky behind you. By his expression alone, you could tell he had no idea that this would happen.

"Wait, hold on-"

You held onto Dazai's arm desperately, reaching for the handcuffs that were beginning to tear him apart from you. This felt like a dream turning into a nightmare, and that you were running too slow.

"I'm a Hunting Dog. I know more than enough about you as well, and your ability should have told you that I'm not a liar like Mr. Dazai here."

Maybe that was why he felt so off. It was more than just the way he said horrible things - over 100 counts of murder, with complete and utter truth.

"Y/n."

Dazai looked back at you with a solem look. There were so many emotions in your head, that you could only focus on the words that had come out of his mouth.

"I love you. Don't forget that, okay?"

Abruptly, you felt him pry your fingers off of his jacket, and look back to the Hunting Dog who had arrested him.

"There's no chance of escaping you, is there?"

"Even if you're hiding in the crowd, I would just kill them. I can take liberties with human life. I can kill your darling too, if you don't start walking."

Numbly, you watched as Dazai left. As if it were a dream, you were stuck in place, unable to chase after him and tell him to stop and even explain how the hell he had gotten into this situation.

You hadn't even gotten the other man's name, not so you could curse him out for taking your love away. There wasn't even the chance to scream.

It was a horribly numb feeling, stuck there in that moment, watching as Dazai walked further and further away from you.

Sorry, had this idea for a while. I was gonna use this song for Jouno, then Nikolai, then GOJO but ended up being a depressing Dazai fic once again....sigh.

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n

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