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miryum · 16 days ago

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You've Got Stars in Your Eyes so Let's Paint the Sky (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel “mourns” his wife

Warnings: Az pretending to be angsty (but happy ending), recreational drug use (tho not from Az or reader), gambling, drinking/alcohol, mentions of hangovers, timeline is a bit loosey goosey, a bit of Elain-bashing, guilt. (title is from Hold On by Extreme Music. Fic is not based off of it, but I was listening to it while editing and thought it fit well)

Word Count: 2.9k

Azriel was hardly one to get intoxicated. Yet there he was, sitting around the expansive fireplace with the other members of the Inner Court, tossing back his fifth glass of alcohol.

It was not an uncommon occurrence for the Court to get drunk every once in a while and indulge in pleasure after their missions. Azriel had just returned from a two-week long commission and was slouched in an armchair big enough for his wings to fold comfortably behind him. It hadn’t been very taxing, but the trip had required secrecy. He couldn’t speak to anyone, just having to let his shadows zip in and out of places, returning to whisper in his ear. Admittedly, he had missed his family and couldn’t say no when Cassian asked him to join in some indulgences.

A cloud of weed surrounded Cass as he took another drag. Even Rhys had an ornate pipe between his lips, though he had yet to light it. Feyre sat on his lap, dragging a slow hand through his hair. Mor had convinced Nesta to play a round of cards and the pair had money laid out for the winner. Elain was sitting next to them, awkwardly watching. Amren was in Summer Court, visiting Varian.

The Shadowsinger didn’t like to drink. It usually brought back painful memories at night, though he was able to forget about them during the fact. He liked the sting of alcohol and its taste, but not the effects. The pleasure of it burning down his throat was always welcome, but the headache in the morning was uncomfortable. As he would lay in bed that next morning, memories swirled in his mind, either one’s from the night before or from his childhood. It was a gamble he was very rarely willing to take. And yet, as he watched Rhys finally light his pipe, Azriel couldn’t help but take another down of his drink. He swallowed thickly and the alcohol was like fire. The moment he compared it, he glanced down at his hands. Flexing his fingers, Azriel turned his stare to his whiskey. It was a lovely amber that seemed to glow in the firelight.

Azriel’s eyes wandered to his brothers and their mates. His finger slid around the rim of his cup, sometimes catching on the glass and disrupting his rhythm. His lips pressed together and his gaze turned to the fire. Shadows slowly curled around him, resting in his lap like a cat. They shifted and creeped lazily up to settle on his forearms. One wisped around his ear before brushing against his cheek, like a kiss. A deep sadness settled within Azriel. His heart weighed down as if by an anchor.

He reached up and brushed at the leathers right over his chest, like he was searching for something that wasn’t there. One shadow climbed up to nestle in his hair, before settling down with a wistful sigh only Azriel could hear.

“You alright, brother?” Rhys asked, noting the shift in mood. Feyre glanced towards Azriel, resting her head on Rhys’ shoulder. Elain quickly looked over her shoulder.

The Illyrian nodded, exhaling through his nose. “Simply thinking,” is what he only replied.

Cassian blew out a smoke ring before turning to the conversation. “And what is it that you’re thinking of?”

Azriel only shook his head when he noticed Nesta peering up at him suspiciously. She laid down a card and Mor’s brows furrowed just a touch. It was things like these that one noticed being the Spymaster of the Night Court.

Rhys studied Az’s face carefully. It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to be quiet, but something about this was unsettling. Something was on his mind and there was only one person that made Azriel this melancholy. Unfortunately, the weed was lowering his inhibitions, and he forgot the promise he had made to Azriel when the Archeron sisters had first arrived. “Thinking of Y/n again?” he asked in a whisper, though his voice was powerful enough to sweep the room.

Mor instantly tensed, a contemplative frown on her face. Cassian blew out a long column of smoke, using his full chest to exhale. Feyre stared at Azriel, confusion swirling on her features. She stayed in the crook of her mate’s side, ever perceptive. Nesta rubbed a card between her thumb and pointer, about to set it down. She was the first to speak. “Who’s Y/n?”

The night was silent and it took a long time for Azriel to answer. He pressed his finger into the rim of his glass and the shadow in his hair seemed to deflate slightly. Even the shadows in his lap stilled before curling tighter around their master, either asking for comfort or trying to give it.

“My wife.”

Elain’s eyes grew wide and a thick blush covered her cheeks. Her stare darted down to his fingers, as if looking for a ring. When she didn’t find one, she turned away, head ducking down. Feyre lifted her head off of Rhys’ shoulder and even Nesta looked shocked. The senior Inner Circle, however, didn’t react. They all knew who Y/n was and they loved her dearly.

“I miss her. I miss my wife,” Azriel muttered, staring down into his drink.

Azriel could barely see through his tears. He stood, in a new custom suit, in front of his brothers. He sniffed once and Rhys clapped him on the back so hard he let out a cough.

“Where is she?” Cass muttered from his place behind Rhys. Rhys then turned around and gave him a sharp glare. Amren rolled her eyes at their display and Mor gave Azriel an encouraging nod. The females were standing opposite them.

It was then that the door to the garden opened and Azriel turned to see his mate, you, walk out.

You were wearing the dress you had always gushed about and your hair was styled beautiful. A bouquet of flowers was grasped in your hands, though Azriel could hardly see any of that. All he could see was your eyes. They had quickly become his favourite colour and something he loved to stare into.

The tears finally began to fall. He could hardly remember the words the High Priestess said, too lost in the feeling of your hands in his and how utterly beautiful you looked. You had insisted on a wedding after learning of the human custom. Your mating bond had snapped over seven years ago, but Azriel was more than happy to keep indulging in your wishes.

Morrigan and Amren were your ladies and Rhysand and Cassian were Azriel’s gentlemen, something you insisted was vital in a wedding. You had also insisted on exchanging rings, slipping the band onto his fingers before he repeated the gesture to you.

Finally, Azriel had the chance to kiss you. He had kissed you plenty of times before, even before you were mated, but this felt… more complete. With one hand on your hip, he pulled you close. You let out a giggle as his other hand cradled the back of your neck. His lips curved up into a devilish grin before dipping you low. You let out a lovely squeal, arms looping around his neck, before he silenced you with a fierce kiss.

And so you were wed. And he would never let you go.

Mor let out a sigh, rising from her place on the floor. She stood for a moment, as if unsure of what to do. Eventually, she decided to refill her own glass before offering the pitcher to Azriel. He took it thankfully. “I miss her as well,” she said. “But it does not help to dwell on her, Azriel. It only makes you sad, and you know this.”

“What- what happened?” Elain asked, clearing her throat. Feyre shot her a stern look but Nesta hummed in agreement. As much as Feyre wanted to be considerate, her curiosity also burned.

In response to Azriel’s silence, Rhys provided quietly, “I sent her on a mission. Years ago.” The muscles in his jaw jumped and Feyre made a sympathetic noise, running a hand through his hair again. “I don’t believe Azriel has ever forgiven me since.”

Azriel let out a derisive scoff. He pressed his lips together and gave Rhys an eye roll. However, after a moment, he said, “it comes and goes.”

Elain shifted her position so she was sitting a little closer to Azriel and facing him. “How many years ago?” she asked, her voice calm and consoling. “Do you still have your ring?”

Cassian was the one to answer, brows pulling together like a drawstring. “Only two years,” he said. It sounded like he was scolding Elain, but Azriel didn’t notice, instead focusing on a shadow that was weaving around his fingers.

The shadow drifted up to rest on Az’s collarbone and it dipped down to touch his leathers. With a sad, nostalgic smile, he tugged out a chain that was hidden beneath his clothing. Hanging down from it was a gold ring. “Even before her mission, I thought it would be best to keep it out of sight,” he murmured. “In case I was ever caught. I wouldn’t want to risk her.”

Mor, who had been drifting around the room, gave Azriel’s shoulder a squeeze as she passed.

Meanwhile, Elain glanced towards Feyre, a pleading look in her eyes. Rhys turned towards his mate and let his hand glide up and down her side. Feyre finally asked, “did the bond ever snap for the two of you?”

Azriel’s entire expression softened and practically everyone could see his shoulders relax. He wasn’t sure if it was the memories or the fire that sent a warm feeling through his chest and throughout his body.

You stood on your balcony, doors wide open and arms crossed. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be at the Town House. You wanted to be at your shared apartment with Azriel, one that was located in the city center. But, seeing as Az was being a stubborn male, you had decided to spend the night away.

Of course, Azriel wasn’t going to let you. You saw his shadows before you saw him. They zipped to you, racing up your body. They twirled around you excitedly and you couldn’t help your smile. Even if you were mad at the Shadowsinger, you couldn't stay mad at his shadows. “You know I love you, yes?” came his smooth, quiet voice from behind you.

You let out a breath and nodded. Azriel came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder and in your peripheral vision, you could see his wings twitch next to you, as if wanting to embrace you too.

“That’s not an apology,” you noted.

It was Azriel’s turn to sigh and his breath tickled your skin. “I know,” he murmured. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Entering your relationship, you were aware that apologising was hard for Azriel. He wasn’t used to making mistakes and was usually so guarded and careful that he didn’t. But you were different. You made him feel things that no one else had and he didn’t know what to do with those feelings. He was bound to make some mistakes.

Finally, he turned his head into your neck and whispered out, “I am sorry, my love.”

That’s when the bond snapped.

Your soul was yanked towards Azriel’s and the centre of the universe seemed to change. Everything was now focused on him. Everything now made sense. And based on the hopeful, desperate expression on Azriel’s face, he felt it too.

“We didn’t see them until practically a month after their mating ceremony,” Mor snickered. Cass let out a loud laugh, the weed making everything seem much more funny than it actually was. Elain pressed her lips together.

Azriel shook his head fondly. His shadows suddenly darted away from him, but he was too inebriated to care. “Shut your mouth, Morrigan,” he muttered, though he was smiling. “What can I say? I love Y/n. It was a nice month.” He took a sip of his whiskey, trying to hide his grin.

Yet, before he could start reminiscing, a knock sounded against the wood of the doorframe. “Az, what are you telling these lovely people?” a new voice spoke up, a teasing lilt in the tone.

Azriel instantly stood. “By the Cauldron,” he murmured reverently. He didn’t notice the Archeron sisters peering curiously at the newcomer as he launched himself into your arms. You were obstructed from view to the sisters as Azriel’s wings curled around you protectively as he held you close. His grip was desperate and loving as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. “My love,” he whispered out so that only you could hear. “I didn’t know you were visiting.”

You held your mate close, a hand brushing calmly in his curls and your other on his back. “I’m not visiting,” you replied softly. “Rhys said I could be done. With the mission, I mean.”

Azriel had half a mind to turn and shoot an accusing look at Rhys, but he wouldn’t take his eyes away from your beautiful face. “My wife,” he muttered. He took your hand in his and kissed the ring you wore proudly. “Forgive me.”

“What for?” you asked.

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours. “That promise I made to you years ago – I didn’t keep it. I let my emotions get the best of me as I missed you. Rhys didn’t deserve my anger for sending you away.”

You let out a laugh that was beauty incarnate to Azriel’s ears and Feyre shared an bemused look with Nesta. Since when did Azriel apologise? And for being rude to his brothers, of all things. To add to it, he had been smiling more with you in his arms than the entire time they had known him. Was it simply that the Shadowsinger had missed his mate? Was there another layer underneath that lay dormant until you were there to peel it back? What was Azriel truly like when the love of his life was home?

Cassian called you over and you exchanged hugs with the rest of the Inner Circle. Mor was ecstatic to have you back – her best friend had returned. You were disappointed that Amren wasn’t there to greet you, but you understood the needed time with her mate. After all, you were sure Azriel wouldn’t let you out of his sight after being reunited.

You were then introduced to the Archeron sisters. You gave Feyre a little teasing bow and greeted, “my High Lady.” Feyre scoffed and swept you into a welcoming hug.

Nesta was next to greet you and you congratulated her on being able to put up with Cassian. Azriel laughed at your joke, arm around your waist. Throughout greetings and introductions, he had never left your side. Every so often, he would place a kiss on your temple or give your hip a small squeeze. He truly was a different man around you.

Eventually, you stood in front of Elain. “Azriel made it sound like you were dead,” she said in hello. Her voice made it sound like she was passing blame onto your mate, but you tried to brush it off.

With a laugh, you said, “well, he gets rather grumpy whenever I’m away for too long. I’m sure you understand.” Some of Azriel’s shadows brushed lovingly along your arms and face.

“He wasn’t wearing his ring, you know?” She laughed along with you, albeit a bit awkwardly. “You have a lovely mate. You’re very lucky to have him.”

You raised your brow and exchanged a look with Mor. “Yes,” you agreed slowly, thinking that was an odd thing to comment on. “But Azriel can choose to wear his ring or not. And he talked to me about it beforehand. We both thought it best to keep our marriage under wraps as we went on missions.” You held up your left hand and Azriel took that as his cue to nuzzle his nose into your hair. “I put mine on only a couple hours ago, when I knew I’d be coming back.”

Elain’s cheeks filled with heat and she nodded. Muttering some things about how she was glad to meet you, she stepped back and towards Nesta.

Impatient as ever when it came to you, Azriel soon ushered you away with the complaint on his lips that your attention wasn’t only on him. He wanted to see you back in your home. After mating, he had chosen a wonderful house special just for the two of you. Over the months, it had gotten harder and harder to live there without your presence. Oh, how he had missed you.

When you were finally alone, you cradled his face in your hands, finally able to kiss your mate after two years. One hand slipped down to pull on the chain that hung around his neck. “I need you to wear this now,” you whispered.

Azriel chuckled and raised a brow. “Jealous, my love?” He pressed close to you, unable to take the feeling of you not cradled in his arms any longer.

“I think I’m entitled to some jealousy,” you replied. “After almost twenty-eight months without hearing your voice, seeing your face, or touching your skin, I get some leeway.”

“Hmm, that you do,” he muttered, slipping his ring back on proudly. “Now, will my beautiful wife accompany me to our home?”

“With pleasure.”

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burningembers91 · 1 month ago

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Family Unit - Park Gyeong-Seok x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Loving You From Afar The Shape of You

Synopsis: You and Park Gyeong-Seok decide to take the next step in your relationship

You could feel Na-Yeon’s gaze on you, could hear her quietly giggling as she stood by your side of the bed. You sleepily opened one eye, then the other, smiling as you saw her waiting for you to wake up. The Disney Princess pyjamas you’d bought her were baggy on her thin little frame, but she looked so cute in them. “Good morning,” you whispered, pulling back the duvet so she could crawl into bed next to you. This had become your new morning routine; Na-Yeon would wake you up at the crack of dawn, you’d snuggle in bed, try to get a few more minutes of sleep, and then you’d get up and get ready for the day. On the days you didn’t work, you usually took Na-Yeon into her room to play, to give Gyeong-Seok space to sleep. He was a light sleeper though, and always heard you get up. sometimes he’d pretend to stay asleep though, just to give you and his daughter more time to bond.

You hadn’t left his apartment since the night you discovered the drawings. For six blissful weeks, you’d spent every day and night here, only returning home to fetch a new bagful of clothes or to do a load of laundry. You’d go to work during the day, while he stayed home with Na-Yeon. In the evening, he would head off to teach his night class (which he could now proudly say was a permanent job), and you would look after Na-Yeon. You didn’t get to spend much time together, your catch ups usually consisting of soft, sleep-hazed sex when Gyeong-Seok returned from work, followed by some whispered conversation before you fell asleep. Every moment you had together was precious, and you cherished every second.

You laid in bed with your eyes closed, listening as Na-Yeon chatted away. She never ran out of things to say, laughing and giggling. You weren’t always entirely sure what she was talking about, but it always made you smile.

Gyeong-Seok stirred next to you, yawning loudly as his arm came round to scoop you and his daughter into a hug. He loved his new family; and for the first time in years, he felt lighter than air. Na-Yeon was still sick, but he didn’t have to deal with the burden alone anymore. You’d slotted in so perfectly, treating his daughter like your own. Nothing was too much for you, and Gyeong-Seok didn’t think he’d ever be able to repay you for your kindness. You were still sleeping on the broken sofa bed, the springs digging into your backs each night. If you were uncomfortable, you never complained. His first paycheck from his new job would be arriving soon. Na-Yeon’s treatment would again take up most of the money he earned, but he was desperate to get a more comfortable bed for you to sleep on. He’d thought about asking you to move in permanently, to see if you could get a place together so you could have a proper bedroom, like a proper couple. He hated having to sneak around his own living room like a teenager, having whispered conversations with you so you didn’t take his daughter. He worried it was too soon though; life was so perfect at the moment, and he didn’t want to ruin it by moving too quickly.

The three of you lay there bed together, you and Gyeong-Seok listening to Na-Yeon babble away. His arms pulled you in closer, his lips pressing a tender kiss on your earlobe. He wished he could freeze time, wished he could bottle this moment and keep it forever. But you’d need to get up soon to get ready for work, and his daughter would need her breakfast.

“I need to do some laundry tonight,” you said, after you’d showered and gotten ready for work. “I’ll take Na-Yeon back to mine tonight, maybe get us a pizza as a little treat.” Gyeong-Seok looked at you over the rim of his coffee mug, eyes alight as he took in your silk shirt and burgundy pencil skirt. It still utterly baffled him that you loved him; that a poor, scruffy painter could be lucky enough to find someone like you. “I hate having to constantly go back and forth,” you sighed, taking a seat next to him at the kitchen table. “I’ve been thinking actually…” You smiled slyly, pulling something from your bag. “This place has just come up, in the same building we’re in now. It’s a 2-bed place, and it even has a small balcony. I was thinking, if we put our money together, we could just about afford it.”

You sat waiting for his answer, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously as you watched him look over the apartment. You knew it was hasty, but you’d never been more sure of anything in your life. Your little family unit needed a bigger place to grow. The apartment overlooked the playground, and you already knew you’d be out there with Na-Yeon each day. Money would be tight, but you’d make it work, and once Na-Yeon was better things would be easier. “I really like it,” he smiled, “are you sure you want to do this?” He didn’t want you to feel like you had to move in with him, like you had to somehow make life easier for him. “Of course I want to,” you smiled, leaning forward for a kiss. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Later that day, Gyeong-Seok arranged a viewing, and two weeks later you had the keys. The first thing he did was throw away the old sofa bed, before proudly placing the bed from your apartment in your new room together. You finally had your own space, somewhere where you could be a proper couple. As the three of you sat down for dinner that night, surrounded by moving boxes and bubble wrap, Gyeong-Seok was sure he’d never been happier.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game season 2 #park gyeong seok x you #park gyeong seok x reader #park gyeong seok #lee jin uk

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jilixthinker · 1 year ago

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SKZ AS SUBS - MAKNAE LINE 🥀

as the self-proclaimed sub!skz ambassador, i felt the need to share my version to the internet just because this was boiling inside of my brain for too long, so... i am sorry ♡

content warning: sub!skz, dom!fem reader, unprotected sex, mention of subspace, dacryphilia, perv tendencies, overstimulation, light BDSM, boob sucking, mommy kink, noona kink, anal play (m receiving), cross dressing, feet play, lactation kink, food play, dumbification, pet play, choking, breeding kink, cum play, virgin, reversed corruption kink, sex toys, masturbation, oral sex (both receiving)

HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE

➛ Han

- whiny™️. the word whiny was created for hannie himself. he becomes a sobbing mess after just one second of you touching him, even if it's not sexual;

- dacryphilia will soon become one of your biggest kinks, even if you didn't explore it before meeting him. he cries, pants, sobs and hiccups at every slight friction and will plead to not to stop, ever;

- tears are not the only thing making your boy messy. because he also drools. a lot. he does it when he is on top of you, face hidden in the crook of your neck, and when it's you topping him, cheek pressed into the soaked pillow under his head;

- with hannie you are gonna have multiple rounds almost everytime. he doesn't last too much, poor angel, because he is always overwhelmed with how warm and tight and wet you feel and he just cannot hold himself. he recovers very fast though, and he will happily suck you into his mouth in those few minutes of waiting;

- be prepared, because he is horny 24/7, and gets pussydrunk very quickly. he is up to anything you can give him? handjob before going to work? quickie in the restroom? filthy audios to keep him satiated? he wants it all;

- he has slight perv tendencies. it's consensual of course, and you told him multiple times that you are perfectly fine with everything he does, but he likes to pretend you don't know. the rush of adrenaline he gets by stealing your panties to bring them to work and taking dirty photos of you when you are not looking makes him feel dirty, and he likes it;

- since he cums really quickly and he is very horny all the times, i can see him being into overstimulation. he will beg you to keep circling the palm of your hand on his cockhead until he almost squirms away, and then he will cum for a second time in a few seconds;

- he has a filthy mouth, and he won't shut up under any circumstance. your neighbors probably hate you;

- he likes to be as submissive and yours as possible. he loves being your little toy to play with, and he will often ask you to finger his mouth as if it was his pussy, and to tie him so he cannot move to much and be completely under your control;

- he prefers when you ride him. he loves seeing you ravishing him and milk him dry, but especially because he just can't get enough of your boobs. when you stay on top he can bury his face on them and suckle at your nipples until your chest is all covered in drool;

- kind of obvious but he has a mommy kink/noona kink, and calling you that while you are fucking him makes his brain feel floaty and fuzzed. "Please noona, oh f-fuck, please - ah nnghh - p-please mama, mommy, let me cum, mama - uhh".

- he is into anal play, but for him. hannie will ask you to finger him, fuck him with your strap, rim him and put a plug in his cute wiggly butt at least once a week. he feels like your princess like that, he cannot help it.

➛ Felix

- here we have him, angel boy lixie. the softest, the sweetest, the embodiment of love. just a look at him and you would give him the entire universe;

- just as binnie, i think that also felix would be into cross dressing. he buys all the pink lacey underwear that he can find on the internet, and he pairs them with pleated skirts and high stokings;

- he will also add a few cute ribbons on his hair, and maybe a little bit of make up too. a rosey eyeshadow, shiny highlighter and glossy lipstick, better if sticky. he will let you fuck him without taking anything off, just pull the panties apart and slide his puffy cockhead on your folds until he cums prettily all over himself;

- he loves you so much he almost worships you. whenerver he is intimate with you, you will always find him looking at you fondly, tears almost prickling his eyes. he cannot help it, he just feels so much when you are together that he cannot believe how lucky he is;

- lixie has particular kinks, but he loves every single inch of you, and he will make sure to let you know. i have the feeling he would love feet stuff a little bit more than he wants to admit. especially when you are chilling on the sofa together, and your sole presses too close to his groin. he always feels a little aroused and filthy for the fact he enjoys this kind of stimulation;

- another mommy kink enthusiast here. he loves being cuddled and pampered by you. the nickname falls naturally out of his lips whenever you give him pleasure, and he sounds so innocent while doing it that it becomes an habit also out of the bedroom;

- lixie loves your breasts. he massage them to fall asleep and he suck on them as a comfort whenever he feels a little bit overwhelmed or fuzzy into his headspace. he like to be babied like that, to be lulled in your arms while he suckles softly on your nipples with pouted lips;

- and this led to his lactation kink. he is not ashamed of asking you to pretend to brestfeed him whenever he is stressed out. "b-baby please, gimme your milk, it was an awful day, p-please";

- he will need a lot of physical touch, such as holding hands, hugging and kissing. He loves every position in which he can be as close to you as he can;

- he wants and gives baby talk all the time. every cute nickname is okay for him, but his favorite are love, angel, sweetheart and sugar;

- definively into food play. he will take every chance to play with you while cooking and baking, sweet hiccups while you twirl your tongue on the head of his honey-dripping cock and lap at his sweet balls underneath;

- talks in 3rd person while in subspace. "uh- mommy, a-angel.. lix -uggghn- l-lixie is cumming, oh god, lixie is c-cumming".

➛ Seungmin

- i am a strong believer that seungmin is the hardest sub of all the boys. whenever he is in the bedroom his personality will shift drastically until he becomes a brainless needy thing;

- minnie is always so stoic and composed in real life that he just needs to let go. sex for him is the only way he can empty his head and give you the absolute control of his body;

- that's why he immediately falls into his subspace as soon as you get intimate with each other. he cannot conceive any other way of loving you than to give you complete power over him;

- i can see him being into light humiliation and dumbification. minnie needs to be useful for you and he will do anything to fulfill your desires. he gets off on the feeling of being your toy and your sexual object, and the embarassment he feels whenever you call him your dumb thing makes his head spin;

- for this exact reason, he is into pet play as well. he loves to be reduced as a silly puppy who needs to earn his treats. whenever you make him kneel in front of you to take food directly from your hands, his cock is always red and leaky against his lap. you often let him hump your calf and stop him just before he cums just to see him crying and pleading for you;

- after a few months, he will probably ask you to explore choking on him. you establish a few rules and safe words before you try that, and the way he just mewls while you lightly restrain his breath will convince you to do it more often;

- minnie needs to be owned. he will ask you to give him a tiny collar with your name on it, and he will wear it everywhere, even at work, hidden under his clothes;

- he always follows your orders diligently, but he enjoys his punishments a little bit too much as well. he pretends not to, because he wants to be your good pup, but he cannot hide the way his wet cock almost drools with precum every time your hand slap the soft fat of his butt, or the back of his balls;

- being so utterly in love with you, he will quickly develop a breeding kink. he cannot hold himself whenever he hears your voice tempting him, and he will cum the hardest if you combine it with a little degradation. "is my little pup ready to breed? mmh... i'm not sure. dumb pup is so weak to fill me up with his cum, isn't he? but you can try, puppy, you can try stuffing me full of your babies."

- and, of course, he is the weakest for cum play. especially if you let him lap his own release out of your folds after he emptied his load inside of you;

- another non verbal baby. as soon as you start pleasuring him, he will not be able to form a single sentence anymore. just sighs, sobs, soft moans and mewls;

➛ I.N

- here we go, another sub enthusiast here!! sweet, lovely innie is so happy of being with you that just cannot wait to try everything that he can;

- i can see him being a virgin before meeting you. not because he didn't have the opportunity of experiencing sex with anyone, but because he wanted to wait for his true love and be as confortable as possible;

- that's why he quickly develops a reversed corruption kink. innie wants - no, he needs - you to ruin him for good. he wants to feel little and inexperienced under your gaze. he wants to know that you are there for him, to teach him and guide him until he knows how to pleasure and be pleasured;

- after the first stages, he becomes unsatiable. he will ask for you to fuck him multiple times a day. poor baby will make up for all the time he lost!;

- he wants to try as many sex toys as he can. he will probably buy a bunch randomly without even know how to use them, and then place them neatly on your bed while waiting for you to show him the way they work;

- he gets pussydrunk pretty fast. he loves eating you out and fingering you the most. as soon as he is confident enough, he will ask you to sit on his face and ride his tongue until you cum on him;

- the prettiest soft grunts while you ride him or you manhandle him, "uh, nnnngh, ff-fuck, ahhh, oh g-god";

- thigh guy for sure. he goes crazy every time he sees you in a short skirt or in a tight pair of jeans. he will look at your legs so much he will almost go crossed-eye and will mentally pray for you to suffocate him with them as soon as you come back home;

- he loves to watch you masturbating. he will sit obediently at the foot of your bed, enraptured by the schlick sound of your fingers pushing in and out of your wet pussy, baby boy almost salivating at the sight;

- call him a simple guy, but he cums the hardest with sloppy blowjobs. he knows he has to stay still, but he usually cannot handle it till you give him permission and will end up thrusting in your mouth just a couple of times before you smack his ass and bring him back to his place;

- another noona lover here. he just loves the feeling of your experienced hands guiding him into pure bliss and to be called your pretty little boy;

- "noona, what was that? oh-ohhh g-god that feels amazing, p-please do it again."

taglist: @jisunglyricist @hannahhhhs-things @hyuniehwa @changisworld @hyunjinhoexxx @yoobears @rockstrhanji @yongboks-stuff @taliavaleska @hw4-l1z @4-chan-inpadella @k-cock @biglipsfattits @vanillacupcakefrosting @simpity-wimpity

if you see your name in bold, it means that I couldn't tag you!

©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

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lurkinginnernarrator · 5 months ago

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“Shen Qingqiu! What is this nonsense about Qing Jing requisitioning a disguise for one of its members?! You would dare send one of your little disciples trussed up like a pretty young mistress! Even I thought you better than”–

Qi Qingqi’s voice cut off on an extremely strangled note. She and the other Peak Lords all seemed unable to capture an ounce of oxygen.

Cang Qiong’s finest were gathered in a elegant war room, massive tables shoved to the side, covered with maps and intelligence reports: A mind-numbing amount of information scattered across sheaves of paper and neatly written on large boards; they spanned the walls not open to the serene nature of Qing Jing’s outdoors.

The murmuring of focused and purposeful Qing Jing disciples hushed at Qi Qingqi’s outraged exclamation and the sudden appearance of a majority of their shibo.

In the midst of the room, Shen Qingqiu stood, hands frozen in the action of sheathing a dagger to his inner thigh. While normally, such a sight would be arresting enough, it paled in comparison to the vision Qing Jing’s Lord made currently.

His eyes caught wide and surprised were rimmed with coal and rouge, claret lips parted infinitesimally. Gentle strands of hair framed his face and cascaded down his curved back. Hair ornaments tinkled and glittered in the silken black waves.

Delicate, airy robes flirted with graceful wrists, red lacquered nails making a pleasing contrast. Carmine and the tones of blushing rose danced about Shen Qingqiu, gentle fabric draping from his shapely frame; soft skin of his collarbones an–and the rounded mound of his, hi-his bust? Exposed. As was the refined line of sinewy thigh.

S-sshink!

Shen Qingqiu’s hand leaves the handle of the blade, nebulous skirts falling back into place, his pale thighs veiled from sight once more.

��Qi-shimei, Liu-shidi, Zhangmen-shixiong?”– Shen Qingqiu's eyes quickly take in the numerous uninvited visitors, yet his lilting voice doesn’t quicken from its whiplike cadence –”To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from Yue-shixiong and my shidimen?”

For some unknowable reason, Sect Master Yue and the Bai Zhan War God forsook courtesy for silence.

“Rather, to what does this Master owe my beloved sect siblings appearance,” the polished voice drawled, “ whose purpose is no doubt to meddle in the affairs of a Qing Jing operation? Without, may I add, any proper knowledge of the purpose of this operation to begin with?”

Mu Qingfang, who to this point was standing unobtrusively to the side, stepped forward, courteously greeting the Maste– Lady? Of Qing Jing.

His fellow peak lords prayed blessings, to be gifted such a level headed martial brother!

“These shidi apologize for the discourtesy, Shen-shixiong.” Mu Qingfang’s voice may have hesitated, or stuttered, and almost uttered ‘shijie’ but no one noticed because they were too caught up in their own lawless thoughts.

A Qing Jing disciple helpfully handed Shen Qinqqiu a fan. With a crack! It met his open palm, a gavel descrying doom.

Haloed in light, the Qing Jing Master stood like a wrathful goddess, a holy judge tired of the sullying presence of mortals.

Qing Jing’s Master, when garbed in his usual attire, was a sharp, intimidating figure. Graceful in his execution of masculinity, not unlike a dagger. Moreso, then, donning the mantle of femininity. Some intangible attributes changed, that when masculine, repelled, yet when feminine compelled. Those certain peak lords were unprepared to handle such a thing.

Shen Qingqiu tsked, turning his back he subsequently ignored them after hand-waving a disciple into acting as the hospitality.

The wrong-footed peak lords were bundled off to the side and laden with tea and light victuals, being appeased into silence and unobtrusiveness by snacks. If some of the scholarly disciples secretly thought of it as the kiddie table, that's for them to know, isn’t it?

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gladiatorcunt · 4 months ago

Text

- GUESS | XIII.

you wanna guess the color of my underwear, you wanna know what i got going on down there

cw: kinktober prompt (ass worship), yoga trainer!oikawa, fem reader, rimming, body hair, scent & piss mentions, light implied yandere, public sex (?), hinted possibly one sided iwazumi x reader, light dub con, mentions of fisting, implied that oikawa’s been into reader from the start, semi obsessive behavior, porno plot, self degradation, food play mention

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Mmh, just like that cutie, lift those hips up for me.”

You’ve been coming to the new yoga class that just opened up at the gym for a while now, a couple months a few times a week, you’re a bit of a homebody otherwise and yoga is the one physical exercise you don’t mind doing often. You like being flexible, able to bend your body in shapes and ways another person would have a harder time doing. And you’re not having sex, so any physically strenuous activity that leaves you sore until you’re put back together by your healing body does wonders for you.

Plus you like the way the leggings hug your well endowed assets, so do a lot of the men in the gym. You wear the form fitting workout clothes for yourself first and foremost, but you can’t lie that a little attention from afar (sometimes too close up by one of the trainer’s usually steps in to help you) boosts your ego. If there’s one thing in life you have to be proud of, at least you have your ass. Squishy and round, jiggles when you walk and never disappoints you unlike everything else in your life.

The same ass that’s raised high in the air in front of your yoga trainer, a more than handsome man in his late 20’s with wavy milk chocolate colored brown hair and a smug twinkle in his eye that’s connected to his smarmy always on his face (even when he seems pissed) grin. You’ll never forget the confidence in his posture, standing tall at the front of the class and introducing himself. Tooru Oikawa, just moved here from japan, his best friend owns the place so it wasn’t too much trouble to get hired, and SO excited to start this journey with you all!

You’ve stayed at the back since then, anxiety swirling in your belly when he’d make the rounds to correct your forms and check on you all. But he’d only pass by with a brisk touch to your back and a ‘good job’, maybe a semi solid pat if you were one of only ones who had a good form, and not to brag, but that’s been the case on more than one occasion.

Now you’re undergoing a little one on one session, he asked you to hang back, noticing you’ve been holding yourself back. You’ve never made much of an effort to talk to him and despite the fact that you’ve never needed this kind of focused attention, he’s been feeling a bit bad that you keep to yourself so much. He doesn’t bite you know, not unless you want him too.

It’s an odd flirtation, something you’ve noticed he never does with anyone else in the class. Oikawa’s attractive enough that you’d balk at him abusing his privilege to drown himself in quickies in the gym’s showers, as off putting as it’d be. But he’s very professional, chuckling at one of the older women making a pass at him and politely turning her down.

So you got in your own head and knew that since there was always room for improvement, surely there must be something he could help you with. So here you are, going through basic poses first before he pushes you into the more advanced ones. You told him that other than increasing your flexibility, you weren’t really sure what other areas would be best for you to get better at.

Oikawa smiled and squeezed your shoulder, no worries, he’ll walk you through a little assesment mini program. Since you mentioned not having done yoga seriously until now, there could easily be something you didn’t even realize needed to be attended to!

“Remember, we want to really feel that stretch, arch your back and lower your head. Breathe in, breathe out.” He instructs, settling a wide palm on your lower back. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’s so close, if you backed up to regain your footing your ass would press up against his bulge. Not that you can tell if he has one right now, but you’re kind of hoping he does. It’s just another part of the fantasy, that’s all this is, you tell yourself. You’re going to soak up the attention, make more small talk as you gather your things and leave, and sit at home suffocating your vibrator until your legs turn into jelly.

“Am I doing this right? My legs feel stiff.” You shift your weight from side to side, your hips gently sway, you could be too in your own head but having Oikawa’s pretty eyes scrutinizing every detail of your body is fucking with your confidence.

He hums, a trail of heat sizzles down your back as he slides his palm down to cup your hip. “If something seems off then it probably is, just widen your stance and put your feet further apart, loosen up your hips. You’re definitely a little tense, cutie.”

Okay so he’s definitely flirting with you, but you don’t startle and shoot back up so you can get out of here. Instead you internally cringe at the squeaks your yoga mat produces, adjusting your ankles to line up more with your shoulders. You keep breathing, in and out, letting your energy flow through your limbs as you maneuver them into the different positions.

Oikawa Tooru burns like a furnace in hell, you realize. Despite having a firm grip on your hip, he’s standing a respectable distance away from you as you bend over. You can still feel the heat radiating from him, his sleeveless muscle tank and his black shorts.

“I think that’s better. Sorry, it's hard for me to relax, I guess.”

“No worries, I totally get it, you do seem like the type to be wound up but that just means we get to unspool your thread and unravel you so we can get to the start and rebuild.” His free hand curls around your other hip, his thumbs absentmindedly stroke the crease where they disappear into your thigh.

This private coaching session is steadily becoming what you’re afraid of, and so horny for you could shoot off into the sky like a soda bottle chocked full of mentos. You didn’t notice when Oikawa got even closer, his blunt hip bones cradling your ass in between them. Could he just be weirdly, and grossly in most people’s eyes, friendly? Does he even see what he’s doing as being the tentative first step into fucking you in a public gym yoga studio?

“Um, yeah, thank you by the way. I’ve felt so much better since I’ve started taking your class, you’re a lifesaver even if I still have a lot to learn.”

“Oh, we all do, including me, believe it or not. I remember you from back then you know, so shy and fidgety, like a baby bunny.”

“You’ve really filled out too. Excuse me for saying this but I know this ass wasn’t always like this, so pretty and plump.” Toned hands drag over the swell of your cheeks, not digging in and kneading the globes, only ghosting their touch along the clothed flesh.

You subconsciously wiggle your hips, Oikawa’s breath hitches behind you, and that is perhaps the most monumental thing you could have achieved today. Flustering the man who gets hit on a billion times per day and gives it back tenfold, a competition of who can keep their cool, that’s how he operates in most things you guess. Like he’s always competing against somebody even if they don’t know, and he just has to win or it’ll be an ugly spot on his record. A record only he keeps and only he sees, but you sense that that’s more important to him than anything else.

“Oh, thank you. I just do a lot of squats every morning and every night after class, nothing crazy. Yoga’s the only other kind of workout I do consistently, anyway.” You're still in what feels like a perverted version of downward dog, briefly taking stock of the strain in your legs now trying to hold the position.

Oikawa makes a surprised sound, “Really? You have such a great body, I’m shocked you’re not a gym rat like me and all my buddies. Some people are just lucky, huh cutie?”

He says it, humble and charming, like he doesn’t also consider himself one of those people. Your cheeks heat up at the idea of a musclehead like Oikawa complimenting your curves, your chubby gathering of fat even in places some people would find ugly, your wideset bones and plush tummy.

A pin drops, “Alright. I think you’ve been in that position long enough, why don’t you go ahead and lower your knees into the table top pose, bring your head up slowly and remember to breathe. In, out, good girl.”

His hands guide your hips down, he steps back to let you settle your knees on the mat. You hear the foam sink behind you, he’s sort of kneeling too, halfway sitting on his legs, the backs of his feet facing the ceiling. Oikawa looms over you like this too, he has a presence you can be lost in before you actually see him, which you definitely can in the wall to wall mirror in front of you. The yoga class was a dance studio before Iwa decided it didn’t fit with his vision, you remember Oikawa telling you all on his first day.

He must feel your wide eyed stare, because he looks up too and suddenly you’re locked in a charged moment.

Neither of you says anything as his feather light touches on your ass become firmer, he’s outright groping you and pulling you back to be flush against his crotch.

He grinds his half hard bulge against you, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror.

“I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to notice me, cutie. Been wanting to do this for so long, you have no fucking idea.” He huffs, adjusting his clothed cock to rest between your cheeks. “You’re so hot, every time I saw you bend over I wanted to cancel class and take you right then and there.”

You gasp and rock back into him, shaking your hips and digging your knees into the mat. You have half a mind to look around the room for the camera and porn filming crew but reality is clearly stranger than fiction, your hot yoga trainer’s stiff cock is sandwiched in your ass crack.

He takes his sweet time dragging his length up and down, the tip catches in the divot of your leggings where your hole is, you’re a little disappointed that he’s not humping you like a rutting dog but you suspect that that’s part of the fun. Oikawa knows you want him so bad that he’ll restrain his urge to fuck you through the floor all the way to the center of the Earth just so you can endure some teasing. You’re so shy and withdrawn but those girls are usually the best kinds of freaks, all he’s doing is bringing it out of you, call it another one of his famous coaching methods.

The door’s locked, so if Iwazumi catches on to what’s happening and tries to rain on your parade, he’ll have to listen to a symphony of moans and slick sounds of bare sweaty flesh slapping against bare sweaty flesh. Oikawa laughs and tells you that Iwa’s been eyeing you too, when you check in at the front desk, when you’re getting water, when you head into the changing rooms to get ready for his class, it’d be helplessly cute if you weren’t already taken. Or, you’re gonna be, at the very least.

“When we’re done, I'll clean you up with my tongue and we can go on a little date. I can take you out properly this weekend but I'd hate for you to think that I was just trying to hit and quit it. I’m not the type to pump and dump, not anymore.” He speaks into the divide of your ass cheeks, having sunk to floor fully and doing some bending over of his own to be at eye level with your lower half.

You bite your lip when he starts nipping at you through your leggings, he smiles into the fabric and bites down harder, soothing the sting with slow licks. Oikawa kisses all over the swell of your behind, sniffing the scent of your perspiration and your body oil in between, medicinal vanilla and natural musk. You can see him hump the mint green yoga mat as he reaches up to hurriedly tug your leggings down enough to expose your ass. Your black thong frames it perfectly, but Oikawa pulls them off too and stuffs them under the waistband of his shorts.

He groans at the sight of your bare skin as it bounces free to say hello, taking a handful of each cheek and squeezing the life out of them, the thick flesh bulges between his fingers so he swiftly smacks each one, for tempting him and making his cock so hard it could explode into a blood filled mess of cum and sticky pubes in his pants. You cry out, rocking forward only to be immediately pulled back so he can keep kissing your ass.

He dotes on it like he would your face or mouth, almost giggling before and after quick pecks that develop into long slurps at your rim. He runs the tip of his nose over the hair on your crack, wetting it in messy swipes of his tongue.

“You taste so fucking good, baby, better than pastry i’ve ever had, and believe me, you don’t even want to know how much money i spend at the bakery across the street from my apartment. You’d love it.” He moans, saying hello to your winking hole by dotting barely there kisses right in the center before toying with you, dipping the tiniest bit of his tongue in your walls, then dragging his saliva all over your pucker. “It’d be fun to eat something off you, we could make a date out of it. Go up to the counter and pick which ones would taste the best when I eat it off your fat ass, but I think they’d all be amazing, don’t you?”

You nod rapidly and throw your ass back on his tongue, burning in shame with every smug laugh and grunt as Oikawa beats around the bush so to speak, doing everything under the sun with your ass but properly eating it. You wish you were in your shitty apartment, sitting on his face and drowning out the sound of your arguing neighbors with your slutty moans. He looks up from behind you to check on how you’re doing, and thank heavens because he finally buries his face in your ass and slurps at your puckered hole.

You lose yourself to the experience, feeling his wet tongue fuck into your ass hole and carve out little pieces of you for himself. He pays zero attention to your pussy, which is why it’s so wet and dripping onto the mat beneath you, it’s like he’s too obsessed with your thick globes to even notice, but you don’t hate it. It’s hot to have a guy be eye socket deep in your ass but also have him neglect where you really need his attention, there’s a dichotomy between being the mousey way you’ve gone about your life and the whorish behavior this man is urging you to consider.

You looked fucked out already, hair all over the place from how much you’ve messed with it and lips dropping open on drawn out squeals and whines. Oikawa is eating your ass out like it’s his main job, the one he puts in overtime for and goes above and beyond to be employee of the month at. He thrusts his tongue a few more times before apparently deciding that’s not enough and slipping in one of his absurdly long fingers alongside it.

You whimper, clenching around both as you just sit there in that damn table top pose and let a man you barely know play your ass like a well oiled fiddle. He shakes your cheek in his hand as he digs his tongue into you, delicately fingering your hole until it goes slack enough for him to insert another. You’re impossibly tight, as much as your clit is howling for it you know perfectly well that any serious penetration isn’t possible. From the impressions you got, Oikawa’s packing enough to tear you until you bleed if you don’t use lube or prep thoroughly beforehand, which you’d do anyways but it’s a shame.

Your clit throbs painfully but Oikawa pulls back with a gulp of air to level you with a warning look in the mirror, which only gets you wetter, you twitch again because he’s one of those. There’s a brief flicker of defiance, you could pout and touch yourself anyway, you don’t owe this ridiculously attractive man anything and he’s the one motorboating your ass cheeks and not the other way around, so shouldn’t you be the one in charge?

Then his eyes darken, you get another sharp smack and you table the discussion for some far off occasion.

Oikawa smiles, gently kissing the apple shaped swell of both of your cheeks, “See, I know from your time here that you can be such a good listener, you’re so sweet for me, I know it. You can’t hide that from me just because you want to throw a fit, I said we’d get to know each other afterwards, didn’t I?”

You scoot your ass back in apology, silently begging him to get back to it. He must really be horny too because he dives straight back in, groaning into your rim and french kissing your hole. The hand not doing its best to push its entirety into you kneads your fleshy ass cheek, molding it like dough and separating it from its twin, giving him easier access to your pucker. He ‘tsks’ not even a second later, crooking his two fingers and letting go off your cheek, humming in contentment when it bounces against his face and he’s smothered again.

He wonders if you’ll let him fist you, give you a unique one of a kind rose to swoon over and keep tucked away inside you later, the perfect first date gift from your future boyfriend.

You can even do couples yoga in the morning after your first night together!

“Let’s see if you can cum just from getting your ass played with.” Punctuated by a fourth finger sliding into the knuckle in your ass, he scissors his fingers to stretch you out and playfully acts like he’s gonna sink his whole fist in, pulling out his fingers to curl them into a ball.

The barest hint of blunt pressure on your hole sends a flood of your juices down his arm, smelling somewhat pissy which gives Oikawa truly the most impish grin imaginable.

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billiesguitar · 3 months ago

Text

Fuckboy!Billie x Nerdy!Reader | Au Masterlist

Headcannons

Fics

Blurbs

Moodboards

Chapters - 2 3 4 5

How they first met...

You'd never been one for partying. You loved hanging out with your friends but the whole club scene was never your vibe. But tonight was different. You'd been dragged out of your dorm by your friends because "You never go out!" and "You need to live a little!" So you found yourself at a party, feeling out of place and a bit overwhelmed by the loud music, flashing lights, and the press of bodies around you. You'd been sipping on a drink for what felt like hours, trying to blend into the background and hoping no one would notice you.

And then you saw her. Billie Eilish, the girl everyone talked about at college. You weren't one to date but your friends did always talk about her, warning you to never ever cross her path. She was known to be a player. Yet, you weren't worried, its not like she even knew who you were, or so you thought.

Your friends, dispersed throughout the party, leaving you alone in a corner with your drink. You made your way to the empty kitchen and sat on one of the marble counter tops. That's when the door opened and immediately you knew who it was by the back of her baseball cap. She said a final word to whoever she was talking to before turning her attention back to the kitchen, to you. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest, smirking.

"You know you're not supposed to be in here." she said, her voice was deeper than you'd imagined, and sent a shiver down your spine.

"I'm just taking a break." you replied, trying to sound calm despite the racing of your heart.

"A break from what? Having fun?" she took a step closer, her dark eyes piercing through the dim light.

"I don't do this kind of thing." you said, taking a sip of your drink.

"Don't do what? Party?" she took another step closer, the smell of her perfume, something sweet and musky, filling your nostrils.

"No, I mean, I guess sometimes." you gestured to the party outside.

"What do you do?" she tilted her head, her curiosity peaking.

"I just… I don't know, I'm not like a party person."

"What makes you say that?" she was closer now, looking you over.

You looked away, playing with the hem of your shirt. "I'm just not into… that."

"What are you into?" she questions, stepping closer to refill her drink with the stuff on the table.

"I'm into… books and music and movies… I don't know, just chilling."

Her smirk grew, "Books, huh?" she took a swig from her cup, watching you over the rim. "What do you read?"

"Everything, I guess. But I'm really into mystery and romance." you admit, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Hmm." she tilts her head and smirks, stepping a bit closer. "What's your favorite movie, hm?"

You blush at the question, "I don't have just one."

"Liar." she says with a chuckle, "Everyone has one, tell me."

"Okay, okay, if I had to pick… it's probably the whole Scream franchise."

She bites her lip in a way that makes your whole body warm. "Scream…interesting."

You look up at her, feeling the heat from her body and the intensity of her gaze. "What's yours?"

"Mines probably-" She gets cut off by some girl bursting through the door, "m'Billie!" she slurs, clearly drunk. Billie rolls her eyes and turns back to you, "Sorry I gotta take care of this, I never got your name." "My name? uhm, Y/n." you answer shyly. "Alright, I'll see you 'round, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a bit disappointed, but she didn't leave. Instead she leaned in and whispered into your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "Don't go anywhere."

You watch her leave, feeling the heat of her words linger. You're not sure what she means by it, but something in her tone makes your heart race. You decide to stay put, taking another sip of your drink, hoping she'd come back.

in the meantime you continued drinking. Quite a bit actually. By the time Billie comes back, you're feeling a bit tipsy.

"You still here?" she asks, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'm drunk, I think."

Her eyes widened for a moment before she chuckles, "You're adorable."

"What?"

"Nothing," she says, taking the cup from your hand. "You've had enough of that."

You pouted, but she didn't give it back. "Give it back!" you whine, reaching for it.

But she's too fast, placing it on the counter out of your reach. You were never one to drink much, but you got caught up.

"Come on," she says, taking your hand, "Let's go."

You stumble as she leads you out of the kitchen and through the party. You're not sure where you're going, but you don't care. You just want to be with her.

The party is loud and you feel like you're in a daze. Billie leads you down the hallway and into a balcony. You both sit down, "what are we doing here?" you ask, a bit confused. "You smoke?" Billie pulls out some pre-rolls out of her pocket, she reaches into the pocket again to take out her lighter but doesn't seem to find it. So you reach into your own bag and pull out a hello kitty one. "No but my friends do." you say, handing it over.

"Perfect," she says, taking it and lighting one up. She takes a drag and offers it to you.

You hesitate before taking it, feeling the warm smoke fill your lungs. You cough a bit, not used to it, but she just chuckles, patting your back gently.

"Thanks," you murmur, passing it back to her.

"So, Y/n," she says, her eyes on you as she takes another drag, "You got a boyfriend?" she passes the blunt. "Uhm, no-" you chuckle and take a drag, "I'm uhh, on the other side of things."

Her eyebrows shoot up, "Oh really?" she takes the blunt back, "So you're into girls then?"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"What about me?" she asks, her voice a low purr that makes you want to lean closer.

You swallow hard, "Yeah, I guess."

"Just guess?" she smirks, taking a hit before leaning in closer, "You guess you want this?" she says, her voice a whisper that sends your heart racing.

You nodded, your eyes locked on her lips.

Without warning, she presses her mouth against yours, her hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You melt into the kiss, feeling your inhibitions slipping away as the alcohol and the thrill of the moment take over. She tastes like mint and a hint of something else, something sweet and addicting.

Her tongue slides into your mouth and you moan, your hand coming up to grip her shirt. She pulls back, chuckling. "Good, because I don't do vanilla."

Before you can ask what she means, she's on her feet, pulling you up with her. She leads you to the bedroom, the party sounds fading away as the door shuts behind you.

The room is dimly lit, with the glow of a lava lamp casting shadows across the walls. She turns to face you, her eyes dark and intense.

"Take your shirt off," she commands.

You obey, fumbling with the buttons before it falls to the floor. She takes a step closer, running her hands over your bare skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever she touches. She reaches behind you, unhooking your bra with a swift motion. It falls away and she palms your breasts, her thumbs flicking over your nipples until they're hard, making you gasp.

"Good girl," she murmurs, her teeth grazing your earlobe. "Now, the pants."

You obey again, letting your jeans fall to the floor. She steps back, eyeing you hungrily. "You're so pretty," she says, her voice thick with desire.

"Thank you," you whisper, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"You don't have to thank me," she says, her voice firm.

"turn around and get on the bed"

You comply, feeling the coolness of the bed underneath you. You lay down on your stomach, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel her climb on the bed, her weight shifting the mattress.

"Spread your legs," she orders.

You do as she says, feeling a rush of excitement and fear.

Her hand slides down your body, her fingertips brushing over your panties before she hooks them down and off your legs, leaving you bare. Her hand caresses your skin, moving over your ass and down your thighs before sliding between your legs. She runs her fingers through your wetness, making you moan into the pillow.

"So responsive," she says, her voice a mix of amusement and approval.

Her fingers continue to explore, pushing into you with a firmness that makes you gasp. You're so turned on, you can feel yourself getting wetter.

"Billie," you moan, arching your back.

"Mm, I like that," she says, her voice thick with lust.

Her hand moves away and you hear the sound of a drawer opening and closing. When she touches you again, it's with her strap on. It's cold at first, but quickly warms as she presses it against you.

"You've never had one of these before, have you?" she asks.

You shake your head, your eyes wide with anticipation.

"Good," she says, "You're going to love it."

With one hand, she holds the base of the strap on, the other hand caressing your back, her breath hot against your neck as she whispers, "Ready?"

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. She positions herself behind you, aligning herself with your entrance.

"Remember, you're mine tonight," she says, pushing into you slowly.

You gasp, the feeling of being filled so suddenly overwhelming. She's rough, but not too much. She knows exactly what she's doing, and it's clear she's not new to this. She starts to move, her hips rocking back and forth, her hand reaching around to play with your clit as she fucks you deeper.

"Yes," you moan, pushing back against her.

"That's it, baby," she encourages, her voice a low growl.

Her movements become more erratic, her thrusts deeper and harder. "m'fuck!" you shout into the pillow.

"You like that?" she asks, her breath hot on your skin.

"Yes, yes," you pant, your body responding to her every touch.

"Good girl, so responsive." she praises, her hand smacking your ass, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to your arousal.

You can feel yourself getting closer, your body tightening around her. She reaches down and grabs your hair, pulling your head back.

"Look at me," she commands.

You turn your head to look into her eyes, seeing the desire and dominance in them.

"Come for me," she says, her voice a demand.

And just like that, you do. Your body shakes with the force of your orgasm, your pussy clenching around her strap-on. She continues to fuck you through it, not letting up until you're a quivering mess beneath her.

When she's done, she pulls out and flips you over, straddling your chest. She unbuckles the strap-on and tosses it aside. Billie's hand wraps around your neck, she presses her lips to yours, kissing you deeply, tasting yourself on her tongue.

Billie stands up and starts to put on her clothes, but not before writing her number on an orange post-it note and jokingly sticking it on your chest.

"Call me," she says, before leaving the room.

#billie eilish #billie eilish smut #billie ellish lyrics #hit me hard and soft #hmhas billie eilish #billie eilish fluff

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7s3ven · 1 year ago

Text

UR MY LOVER. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Camp Half-Blood has its very own band to entertain themselves. Most of the campers aren’t sure where they get their electricity for their instruments but one thing they are certain about is that the substitute lead singer and lead guitarist definitely have a thing for each other.

“Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth. The girl in my story has always been you.”

A/N : Luke seems like he’d be in a band

Warning : sex references, some details differ from the og books, modern references

—

Y/N has been lounging in the sun on her rickety front porch when something, or rather someone, blocked the rays of warmth. She groaned, lowering her sunglasses to get a better look at who was bothering her.

“What?” She grumbled to the mischievous son of Hermes, Luke. It’s not like she hated him, quite the opposite to be honest. His presence was a breath of fresh air in her stressful days at Camp Half-Blood. But she was sleep-deprived and in desperate need of a rest. Luke merely smiled down at her, unthreatened by her hostile tone.

“Hey, little bolt.” He uttered, crouching down beside her to almost match her height. Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing her glasses back up with her middle finger. “So as you know, Chiron is letting us form a band. The only problem is I have an electric guitar and, you know, it needs electricity. And there’s not enough ‘round here. Personally, I think we’re lucky to have a daughter of Zeus.”

Y/N scoffed. “No.” She quickly retorted, already guessing what he was going to ask her. “I won’t power your stupid performances.”

“What? Why would I ask that? I was going to ask you if you wanted a quicky backstage.” Luke sarcastically joked, his lips curving into a cheeky smirk. Y/N’s lips curled into an unamused sneer as she set her sharp gaze on the boy beside her. “Help me out this one time, babe.”

“Ew,” She furrowed her eyebrows in disgust, “Don’t call me that.”

“Come on, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna stop until you agree. I won’t ever ask for this favor again, pudding.” His nicknames were becoming increasingly worse and Y/N's ears were practically bleeding. Y/N cringed and covered her ears, desperately wanting to bang her head into a wall to drown his voice out. Her last thread was Luke calling her kitty.

“Okay!” She sat up, flinging her glasses at him. Luke effortlessly caught them, looking down at the intricate rims. He traced his fingers over the gems embedded in the sides. They shined in the light and small rainbows reflected off them. “Just stop calling me those horrid names!” She exclaimed, slapping his shoulder.

He grinned, “Deal. Practice is tonight, 8 pm sharp. Don’t be late.” He tossed Y/N’s glasses back at her and quickly stood up. “See ya, princess.”

Y/N wanted to hurl a rock at him for that stupid pet name but Luke was already running away, bellowing out a laugh as he tilted his head back in amusement. “I’m going to electrocute you, Luke! I hope your guitar backfires!” She screamed, earning another chuckle from Luke.

“Yo, guys.” He burst into his cabin, grinning at Chris and Charles who were positioned on his bed, lazily lying down. “Y/N’s in. Now we just need a lead singer. Charles, how’s convincing Silena going?”

Charles pressed his lips into a thin line. “You know she has stage fright.” He uttered, referring to his girlfriend, “Maybe if I mentioned that Y/N will be there then she’ll go? I think she has a girl crush on Y/N.” Charles let out a low chortle.

Everyone liked Y/N, apart from when she was deprived of sleep and grumpy. She was like a fire ready to flare up, stalking its way through the high grass.

“So, how did you convince Y/N? I heard from Annabeth that she was in a particularly bad mood today.” Chris uttered, chuckling. "Did you promise her sex or something?" Luke shrugged as Charles chucked a can of Sprite his way.

He pulled back the tab and the can opened with a pop and fizz. “Nah. A part of me wishes, though. I might get some if I did. But, I have my ways.” He retorted, grinning. “Band practice is at eight. Charles, do your best to get Silena on board because I can’t deal with Clarisse as lead singer.” Luke sighed, taking a huge gulp from his can. Chris chuckled while Charles silently nodded in agreement.

“She is rather hard to deal with.” Charles muttered, his voice almost a whisper in fear that Clarisse would overhear him.

Luke would have asked Y/N to be the band’s lead singer but he knew she wasn’t happy with having to power up his guitar. She’d rather jump in water than agree to sing and she hated water. It probably had something to do with the fact that she could create electricity with her bare hands.

Water and lightning never went well together.

Luke was buzzing with excitement as he jogged towards an abandoned cabin Chiron had agreed to let them use for practice. He opened the creaky door, surprised to see Y/N already sitting on a dusty couch.

“I already hate it here.” She said, turning to face him. He cracked a grin.

“Not enough sleep last night, huh?”

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “I barely got any. Some idiots were up all night, singing their hearts out to Olivia Rodrigo.” Luke was ashamed to admit that those idiots were him, Chris, and the Stoll brothers. “I mean, how much of a loser do you have to be to scream your heart out to jealousy?”

“I don’t know.” Luke shrugged, sitting next to her. Dust surrounded the air around him and he coughed, fanning it away with his hand. His actions made Y/N lightly chuckle. “Maybe they related to the lyrics. Unlike you, perfect girl.”

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not perfect. I’m far from it.” Luke quickly turned to face her, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“How come? You’re pretty and smart and you’ve got Zeus as your dad. Come on, you hit the jackpot on that one.” Luke grinned and the corners of Y/N’s lips twitched.

“You think I’m perfect?” She asked, confused. She quietly laughed, giving Luke an almost judging stare. “I don’t even have my life together. How can I be perfect?”

“Most of us don’t have our lives together. Look at me, I’m well over sixteen now and I’m starting a band at camp because there’s nothing to do ‘round here. And I’m also sitting in a dodgy looking cabin with dust everywhere. But hey, at least I have a pretty girl with me.”

Y/N stared at Luke for a second before she huffed in amusement. “You’re a no-good flirt, Luke.” She playfully shoved him.

“You seem in a better mood.” He smiled, proud of himself.

“You had nothing to do with it, I can assure you.” She rolled her eyes and turned her head, spotting Chris, Silena, and Charles walking towards the cabin. “Looks like your band mates are here.” She uttered, sitting up.

“Hey man, what’s up!” Chris joyfully greeted Luke while Charles’ approach was more quiet. Silena smiled at Luke and waved at Y/N with a bright smile.

“Alright, so everybody’s here. We got Charles on drums, Chris as back up guitar, me as lead and sub vocals, and Silena as vocals.” Luke loudly clapped his hands as away to earn everybody’s attention.

“Does that make me your back-up generator then?” Y/N butted in.

“Yeah. Hold this, darling.” Luke handed her a cord that connected to his guitar and she begrudgingly took it.

“No more names.” She warned, sending a small current to shock Luke. He yelped, taken aback, all while Y/N smirked. She stayed true to her words to electrocute Luke if he ever annoyed her.

Y/N lay on the couch, clutching onto the cord and aimlessly staring at the ceiling. The sound of Charles’ loud drums and Silena’s soft voice merged with the loud ringing in Y/N’s ears. She kept her eyes fixed on a certain spot, completely dazed until Luke pressed a cold can to her face.

“We’re taking a break.” He said, offering her a drink. She arched an eyebrow.

“Why are you giving me one?” She questioned, sitting up and taking it away.

Luke shrugged. “I mean, you are powering up my guitar. You deserve a little thanks.”

Y/N merely stared at Luke before cracking open the can, taking a small sip. “I trust you haven’t drugged this?”

Luke lightly snorted. “I have no purpose to put coke in your drink.” He held out his hand, silently asking for sip. Y/N shoved the can into his arms.

“So, when did you get the idea of forming a band?” She questioned, tapping her foot against the wooden floor. She glanced at Luke who smiled, a strange wishful look in his gaze.

“I’ve always loved music.” He admitted, “And being a demigod, you don’t exactly have a lot of chances. I did play at one festival, though… and it was amazing. But then I got attacked by a monster.” Luke chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in amusement. “It was still the best moment of my life. And I want that kind of joy back.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it back. What’s it like playing the guitar?” She quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. Luke grinned, his tongue peeking out from between his teeth.

“Amazing. You wanna learn?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I can hardly hold a guitar correctly, let alone play it, Luke.”

“Come on, pretty. I’ll show ya.”

“I need two hands to play. But I also need to power up the guitar. How do you suppose that’ll work?”

“You’ll figure out a way. You always do.”

That’s how Y/N ended up holding the plug with Luke sitting almost directly behind her, guiding her hands. He smiled as Y/N struggled, her fingers never quite reaching the right chords.

A twig snapped and Chris walked into the cabin, wiping away sweat with the back of his hand. “Man, it is hot outside- Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt something?” Chris paused, staring the pair.

“No.” Y/N quickly answered. They practically jumped away from each other. She handed Luke his guitar, clearing her throat.

“I should get going.” She announced to nobody in particular. She briefly smiled at the two boys before spinning around on her heels, quickly walking away.

“Hey, pretty, wait!” Luke stood up in a hurry but Y/N was already out the door and walking past the tall trees.

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes as she waltzed out of her cabin, almost screaming when she saw Luke leaned up against the wall.

He grinned and greeted her, tipping an imaginary hat. “Hey, pretty. You up for charging my guitar today? I need to practice my riffs.”

Y/N thickly gulped, looking for any sign of Chris or Charles or even Silena, who she knew was busy with teaching kids archery. “… Alone?” She questioned after a long pause.

“Yeah. Does that bother you? I can practice another time.” Luke offered.

The warm sun bore down on Y/N as she stared at Luke. “No… it’s not a problem. When do you want to practice?”

Luke stood up straight, folding his arms over his chest. He grinned down at Y/N. “Right now if you’re free, pretty. But it looks like you just woke up. Bad sleep?”

“Hardly any at all. Again.” Y/N retorted, sour and harsh. She silently followed Luke to the cabin, raising her eyes in surprise when she saw the lack of dust. “You cleaned it?” She questioned, craning her head to get a better look.

“Yup. The dust was getting to my eyes.” Luke uttered. Y/N hummed in quiet approval.

“You’d make a good house husband. You can clean, you can charm your way through everything, and you can play guitar. What’s next? Cooking?”

Luke smugly smirked, “I’m actually great with a pan, pretty. I’ll make you cinnamon toast someday. Or do you prefer pancakes?”

“Food is food.” She shrugged. “So, how’s the guitar going?” She fiddled with the cord, “I always wanted to learn piano. I tried it a few times but it never stuck.”

“I think you’d look charming playing the piano, pretty.” He flirtatiously smiled, twirling a strand of Y/N’s H/C hair around his finger. Y/N stiffened, her cheeks practically glowing red.

“Are you going to practice or stare at me until we grow eighty?” Y/N muttered, leaning away from Luke.

“I think I’m going to continue staring.” He retorted, winking at her. Y/N looked away, lightly frowning.

“So, what songs are you going to sing?”

“Silena’s gonna be doing most of the vocal work but there’s one song I’ll be singing.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, silently telling him to continue because as much as she tried to dislike being here with Luke, she was curious. Luke plucked at the guitar strings, humming out a quiet melody.

“Wait.” Y/N articulated, “You aren’t going to sing to me, right? I don’t want a Barbie moment.”

“Too bad.” Luke replied, already getting ready to sing. Y/N softly groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was expecting Luke’s voice to be like nails on a chalkboard, a horrible sound overall, but the lyrics slipped past his lips and Y/N found herself not entirely hating it.

“Are you seriously singing Elvis Presley?” She said over the sound of Luke’s voice and guitar. He merely grinned, nodding his head.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you?” Luke smiled, his gaze never faltering. He was staring straight at Y/N as he meticulously played complicated chords. She felt uncomfortable under his eyes and a part of her wanted to sink into the couch. “This is one of your favourite songs, is it not?” Luke asked as he continued strumming.

“How would you know that, Luke?”

“Trust me, pretty. I hear you singing with the Apollo kids. As grumpy as you are without sleep sometimes, you sure sound cheerful when you’re singing Elvis. Join in on the singing, won’t ya?”

“Like a river flows. Surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be.” Luke swayed, waiting for Y/N to join. She begrudgingly did.

“Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can't help…falling in love with you.” They sang in unison. Y/N’s eyes were focused straight ahead of her while Luke’s ran over her soft features and lips that had been tinted with lipstick.

“Like a river flows. Surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be.”

Luke couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as Y/N’s voice drowned out his own and he stopped singing. She was far too lost in the music to notice.

“Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can't help falling in love with you.” Y/N turned back to Luke, faltering when she saw how he was staring at her. Like she was his whole world or like she had planted the beautiful stars in the sky.

“For I can't help… falling in love with you.” Luke sang the iconic last line, grinning. His face was much closer to Y/N’s than he anticipated, causing her to flinch. She didn’t shuffle away, though.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look… pretty?” Luke chuckled at how his sentence and his nickname for Y/N clashed. The apples of her cheeks turned bright pink and she didn’t sneer at him this time. She only stared at him with eyes that were vulnerable lest Luke give her another compliment.

The door to the haughty shack slammed open, Charles entering. He spluttered in surprise when he saw Y/N and Luke. “Sorry… I can leave and come back… if you want…”

Y/N stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her shirt. “It’s fine. I was just leaving.” She didn’t spare Luke another glance as she hurried out, flustered.

“Were you two about to kiss?” Charles questioned. Luke frustratingly groaned, holding his face in his head.

“I liked to think we were going to.”

Y/N stood in the side lines of the stage, holding Luke’s cord while staring at a clipboard she held in her other hand. It was the list of songs Luke had given her to keep her occupied.

i, Lovesick by Laufey - sung by Silena

ii, Venus by Regina Song - sung by Silena

iii, Can’t help falling in love by Elvis - sung by Luke

The second song fit the daughter of Aphrodite. Y/N glanced at the stage, her eyes immediately finding Luke. He was helping Charles set up his drums. Luke seemed to sense her eyes on him and he lifted his head, smirking.

Y/N quickly diverted her gaze as she heard Luke jog towards her. “Hey, pretty.” He greeted her, “Silena’s vocals can only take so much singing so are you good taking over the last song?”

“No.” Y/N answered but Luke didn’t hear her, or he chose to ignore her.

“Thanks, pretty. I owe you one. Love ya!” He ran off while Y/N mentally cursed at him. She angrily looked at the list, her eyes slightly softening when she saw the song.

iv, Lover (remix) by Taylor Swift + Shawn Mendes

It was one of her favourite songs. She could remember listening to it when she wasn’t aware of her demigod status, always wishing for a love as pure as Jack and Rose’s. Despite being swamped by complicated emotions, she was still a teenage girl secretly wishing for a teen romance like the books and movies and songs suggested.

The makeshift concert started with a short light show conducted by an Iris kid and that’s when the band finally stepped out. The demigod crowd cheered, clapping their hands. The Aphrodite girls were holding signs up for Silena and Luke quietly chuckled as his Hermes brothers yelled a little too loudly.

Silena’s voice was beautiful as she sang and Y/N found herself shrinking back. How could she compete with that? She didn’t even want to sing. She was fine sitting backstage with nothing but a clipboard to stare at.

At least Luke seemed to be enjoying himself and all the attention he was gaining from the girls. Y/N felt her chest tighten. It’s not like she had feelings for Luke… did she? In this moment, Y/N wanted nothing more than to be an Aphrodite kid because at least they could sense love.

Luke sang the melody to the Elvis Presley song with as much tenderness as he did in the cabin, occasionally glancing over at Y/N to see her mouthing the words.

“Pretty, you’re up.” Luke said as the band hurried back stage for a small break. He took the guitar cord from Y/N, plugging it into some sort of machine that she didn’t recognise. “Drink some water so you don’t get dehydrated. You know the words, don’t ya?”

Y/N could only nod, too confused to process everything at once. “What about your guitar?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t ya worry.” Luke ushered her up the steps onto the brightly lit stage. “Alright guys, we’re back. Did ya miss us? Of course you did. Anyway, Silena’s swamped so we’ve got Y/N singing. Don’t worry, folks, she has a great voice when she’s feeling nice.”

Luke cheekily grinned as he adjusted his headset microphone while Y/N glared at him.

“Anyway, this song will be a duet between me and Y/N. Last song for the night, hope you guys enjoy!”

The music started playing immediately, causing Y/N to stiffen. She locked eyes with Luke, who was standing a meter away from her, nodding his head to the beat.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January. And this is our place, we make the rules.” She hesitatingly sang, earning a few hollers from the Apollo cabin. “And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear. Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home. You're my, my, my, my…” The vivid image of Y/N and Luke singing together, their faces millimetres apart, haunted Y/N. She could feel her cheeks heat up as she glanced at Luke once more only to see that he was already smiling at her.

“Lover.” Luke mouthed as Y/N sang.

Luke tapped his foot, slowly playing his guitar. “We could light a bunch of candles and dance around the kitchen, baby. Pictures of when we were young would hang on the wall. We would sit on the stoop. I'll sing love songs to you when we're eighty.”

“See, I finally got you now, honey, I won't let you fall.” They lulled out in unison. “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever, ah. Take me out, and take me home. You're my, my, my, my lover.” Their voices blended together perfectly and the crowd found themselves swaying to the music, clearly noticing the romantic tension between Luke and Y/N.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand. I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.” Y/N nervously clasped her hands around her mic, her breath shuddering when Luke beamed at her.

“Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth. The girl in my story has always been you.” Luke strummed the guitar cords as he walked towards Y/N, “I’d go down with the Titanic, it’s true. For you, lover.”

The music ended there, despite the song still having another chorus left. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at Luke. “You had enough electricity this whole time?” She whispered away from the mic.

“Yeah. I just wanted to spend time with you, pretty. I like you, Y/N. More than I should admit because my fan girls will be a little upset.” Luke chuckled as he jogged off stage, Y/N following close behind.

“So I used my electricity for nothing? You could’ve just asked me to accompany you!” Y/N slapped his shoulder.

“Oh, come on, pretty. Be realistic. You wouldn’t have come if I merely asked. Even if I confessed to you then and there.”

“And what exactly do you like about me?”

“Everything, Y/N. The way your eyes shine when you read, the way you smile when you sing Elvis songs, and the way you have freckles that line up in a square, like constellations on your face. The truth is, you could break my heart into tiny little pieces and I’d still pick them up for you to hold. You like rainbows, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“I adore you, Y/N. And it doesn’t matter that sometimes our worlds are coloured with different hues. Because when the colours bleed into each other, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Apart from your face and soul, of course.”

“What if the colour turns out to be an ugly yellow?”

“You’re ruining the mood, pretty.”

Y/N clicked her tongue as she tilted forward, gingerly pressed a soft kiss to Luke’s lips. He gently gasped.

“Your mics is on, by the way.” She whispered, “Just thought you’d like to know.”

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

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twola · 10 months ago

Text

Went a bit more existential with this one.

Holy

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

You’re beautiful there, spread out on his cot.

Of course, he thinks you’re beautiful everywhere - in the light of the morning sipping coffee; in the golden afternoon as you’re sneaking treats to his horse. In the sparkle of nightfall, where the stars and campfire dance in your eyes.

But here, here, is where he thinks you’re most beautiful. Utterly bare and chest heaving in his cot, the low light of the lantern illuminating the curves and divots in your skin. You’re beautiful here, in the midnight hours, completely his.

Your sweat-dotted skin and tousled hair, pebbled nipples and the dewy sheen of wetness that he can see on the dark hair that shrouds your cunt.

You are the most beautiful, holy thing he’s ever seen as you open your legs farther, smiling up at him as he leans above you, stroking his needy cock as he situates his knees on the sides of your thighs.

If he believed in prayer he would say one in this moment, guiding himself to you.

He presses the weeping head of his flesh against the petal like skin of your folds, rubbing through them as your breath hitches. He collects your arousal on himself, breathing through his nose as his hand grips the base of himself.

A breathy gasp from your lips reaches his ear as he presses the head of his cock through the rim of your cunt.

He cannot help but to watch how your teeth sink into your lower lip, your eyes squeezing shut as he splits you, as he parts you and his flesh enters you.

You whimper as he continues his journey forward.

Another inch.

If there was a god, he must not be but too pissed with Arthur - not with the way he’s feeling now, not with the way the vice of your cunt feels on the head of his cock - wet and warm and so goddamn tight.

Another inch.

Your eyes flutter open as you grow used to his intrusion, and he swears you bat your eyelashes I almost a coquettish manner up at him. Christ, the power you have over him when he’s inside you - you could demand of him anything and by God’s sake, he would do it for you.

Another flighty breath escapes your lips and he cannot help it anymore. He is but a simple, sinful man, and he snaps his hips forward to completely sheath himself within your cunt. Your eyes widen and you whimper again at the movement.

The curls of the hair at the base of his shaft press against your clit, making you shiver, his pelvis flush against yours.

He’s spread out atop you, all twitching muscles and weather-beaten skin. You’re small beneath him, sunken down in the cot with your legs spread wide ‘round his hips.

Your breath comes out in a gasp as he settles himself over you, one elbow keeping the bulk of his weight off of your frame.

He stays still, his flesh within yours, reverent at the intimacy of it all. That you would allow, nay, want him in such a way. That you would choose a man like him to bury himself inside your body. That you would choose him, of all men, to touch you and feel you and climb inside the most special part of you.

The wet warmth of your core makes him shudder, succumbing to the feeling and shutting his eyes as he lays upon you, burrowing his forehead into the curve of your neck. Your arms wind around his neck, your slender fingers gently twining through the short ends of his hair.

His chapped lips press against your neck as a contented sigh escapes you. God, he could stay here forever, draped over your supple frame, all of him holstered inside you - warm and tight and wanted.

“Arthur…”

He grunts softly as he presses up on his elbow, hovering above you to catch your gaze.

The flush in your cheeks is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Your lips spread into an infectious smile that he cannot help but to return.

He swears, for all of the sinning he has done, and continues to do, that some heavenly deity has extended some kind of mercy upon him. For here, tangled up in each other, sheathed so sweetly inside you, this is the closest to heaven that a man like him could hope to get to.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #twolafic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #voluptatem

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octaneink · 18 days ago

Text

Accelerando

Will Lenney x Fem!Reader

Previous part: Crescendo Summary : Will met his new neighbour, he may not have made the best first impression but things work out in his favour. Right? Warnings : LONG AS FUCK this is like 6k (also tried to write them "texting" but I'm not sure if I hit the mark) Notes : Like I said on one of my blog updates, I think I made Will a bit of a simp but I like it...Not sure if I should continue these in their perspective? Do people like that?

Will didn’t even wait to sit down. As soon as he walked into the office, he dropped his tote bag onto his desk with a thud. The room was bathed in the soft glow of morning light filtering through the blinds, casting long streaks across the cluttered desks and chairs. The faint hum of computers and the occasional clatter of key filled the air, but Will’s entrance brought a momentary pause to the usual rhythm.

“You lot will never guess what just happened to me,” he announced, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Mikey looked up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow. “What? Did you run out of Prime or something?”

“No, you prick,” Will shot back, though there was no real heat in his tone. He grabbed a chair from an empty desk, spinning it around with a practised flick of his wrist before sitting down, his arms resting on the back. His hair was slightly dishevelled, he’d been running his hands through it all morning, and his cheeks were flushed from the brisk walk to the office.

“Remember that neighbour I told you about? The one with the loud music every morning?” he continued.

James twisted in his seat, he was mid-sip of his coffee, the ice clacking from the plastic cup in his hand. “The one you’ve been talking about for weeks? Yeah, what about them?”

“Turns out, it’s a girl. And I just met her this morning.” Will said.

James snorted, nearly spilling his coffee as he twisted back around to face his desk. “A girl?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t know you were lonely enough to see this as important news.”

Will rolled his eyes, his lips twitching into a half-smile despite himself. “I’m not lonely, you knob. It’s just… it’s mad, innit? I’ve been talking about this person for weeks, and it turns out she’s my next-door neighbour. And she’s… well, she’s fit.”

James choked on his coffee, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the cup as he set it down with a loud thunk. “Fit? Mate, you’ve only just met her!”

“So? I’m allowed to find someone attractive!” Will exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. His voice echoed slightly in the small office, drawing a few curious glances from the others. The tips of his ears turned pink, but he pressed on.

“She introduced herself, said she was my neighbour, and then—get this—she then got into the bloody yellow Miata.”

Mikey burst out laughing, the sound sharp and sudden in the otherwise quiet room. He leaned back in his chair, nearly tipping it over as he clutched his stomach. “No way. You’ve been slagging off your new fit neighbour this whole time?”

“I didn’t slag her off,” Will protested. “She acted like she had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned the music. Proper cheeky, she is.”

James shook his head, grinning. “Mate, you’re in trouble. She’s already got you wound up, and you’ve only just met her.”

“I’m not wound up,” Will insisted, though the way he was gesturing wildly with his hands suggested otherwise. His voice rose slightly, carrying a note of defensiveness that only made the others laugh harder. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

Mikey smirked. “Sure you are. What’s her name, then?”

Will's gaze flickering to the ceiling as if trying to recall. Then he said her name, it rolled off his tongue as he’d been practising it on the way to the office. “Aside from that, she seems really nice.”

One of the guys in the corner poorly coughed out a ‘to look at’, earning a round of snickers from the others. Will ignored them, the only sign of acknowledgement he let them see was an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“And I don’t know… I’m just curious, I guess,” he admitted, his voice softening slightly.

James leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Curious, huh? Sounds like you’re already planning your next move. What’re you going to do? Knock on her door and ask her out for a cuppa?”

Will hesitated, his confidence wavering. “I mean… maybe? I don’t know. It’d be nice to actually talk to her properly, you know? Without the whole ‘I’ve been moaning about your music for weeks’ thing hanging over us.”

Mikey snorted. “Good luck with that, mate. She’s probably already got you pegged as the grumpy bloke next door.”

“Cheers for the vote of confidence,” Will muttered, slumping in his chair. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, before shaking his head and getting to work.

The next few days were… quiet. Too quiet. Will didn’t realise how much he’d come to expect the thumping bass of reggaetón in the morning and evenings until it was gone. The next morning after their meeting, he woke up at his usual time, the faint glow of dawn creeping through the gaps in his curtains. He stretched, the sheets rustling as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the cool wooden floor.

He padded into the kitchen, the faint hum of the fridge the only noise breaking the stillness. The kettle clicked on, its familiar bubbling filling the room as he reached for his favourite mug. He leaned against the counter, staring out the window at the quiet street below. The yellow Miata sat in its usual spot, untouched, its vibrant colour muted in the early morning light.

Will carried his tea to the window, the steam curling up into the cool air as he pulled back the curtain slightly. He sat on the sill, and sipped his drink. The silence felt heavy, almost oppressive, as if the city itself was holding its breath. He glanced at the Miata again, half-expecting to see her climb in and drive off, the music blaring as she peeled away from the curb. But the car remained still, the street silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

By the third day, the quiet had become unnerving. Will found himself glancing out the window more often, his routine disrupted by the absence of the familiar beat. He’d catch himself pausing at odd times throughout the times he was home, his ears straining for the faintest hint of bass. But there was nothing. Just silence.

It wasn’t just the music, though. It was the absence of her. The brief encounter in the hallway had left an impression, one he hadn’t realised until now. Her smile, the way she’d teased him about the music, the effortless confidence she carried—it all lingered in his mind.

On the fourth morning, Will woke up earlier than usual, his body seemingly attuned to the rhythm of her routine even in her absence. He made his tea and sat by the window again, the steam from his mug fogging up the glass. He wiped it away with his sleeve, his gaze fixed on the Miata.

“Where are you?” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

The street below was still, the occasional passer by bundled up against the morning chill. A delivery van rumbled past, its engine breaking the silence for a moment before fading into the distance. Will sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool glass. He hadn’t realised how much he’d come to rely on that small, daily interruption—the burst of energy that signalled the start of her day, and in turn, his own.

Without it, the mornings felt… incomplete.

A week later, Will was coming home from a late editing session, the streets of London bathed in the soft glow of street lights. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from an earlier shower, and the occasional drip-drip of water falling from rooftops echoed in the quiet alleyway. His shoulders and lower back ached from hours hunched over his laptop, and his mind was still buzzing with unfinished ideas.

As he approached his door, he noticed a figure standing at the entrance to her flat. It wasn’t her—it was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a key in one hand and a reusable shopping bag in the other. Will slowed his steps, his curiosity piqued. The man glanced up, catching Will’s eye, and gave a polite nod before turning back to the door.

Will hesitated, his hand tightening around the strap of his tote bag. He wasn’t usually one to pry, but the absence of her music (and her) had left a lingering unease he couldn’t quite shake. Taking a deep breath, he decided to approach.

“Hey, mate,” Will called out, his voice cutting through the quiet night. He tried to sound casual, but there was a slight edge to his tone, a hint of the curiosity he’d been carrying for days.

The man turned, his expression friendly but slightly guarded. “Alright?”

“I’m Will,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward his own flat. “I live next door. Just wondering… is everything okay with” he said your name “? Haven’t seen her around.”

The man’s face relaxed into a smile, and he shifted the bag to his other hand. “Oh, she’s fine! She’s just away for a couple of weeks. Something for work, I think. I’m her friend, Austin—just popping in to water her plants, check on the place, and drop off something I borrowed.”

Will nodded, feeling a mix of relief and something else he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just curiosity any more, it was a strange, almost nagging sense of disappointment? He wasn’t sure.

“Right, of course,” Will said, shoving his free hand into his pocket. “Thanks for letting me know. I was just… you know, making sure everything was alright.”

The man chuckled, a warm, easy sound. “Yeah, she mentioned you.”

Will’s cheeks flushed, and he let out an awkward laugh. “Ah, really? Didn’t realise she’d noticed.”

“Oh, she noticed,” the man said, his grin widening.

Will groaned, running a hand through his hair. What had she been telling people? He hoped it wasn’t about their disastrous first meeting. “Great.”

The man laughed again, shaking his head. “Anyway, I’d better get these plants sorted before she comes back and murders me for neglecting them.”

“Right, yeah. Don’t let me keep you,” Will said, stepping back. “Thanks again, mate.”

“No problem,” the man replied, turning back to the door. “See you around.”

Will watched as the man disappeared inside, the door clicking shut behind him. He stood there for a moment, before finally heading to his own flat.

As he unlocked his door and stepped inside, the quiet of the empty space hit him again. He dropped his tote bag by the door and leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

“Something for work, huh?” he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.

Will sighed, pushing himself off the wall and heading to the kitchen. He needed some food. And maybe a distraction.

The next day, Will was in the office, they had just finished filming a video and are currently taking a break before filming another. The room was a chaotic mix of half-empty energy drink cans, scattered cables, and things they used in the videos. James was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone, while Mikey and Ieuan were huddled over a laptop, debating the best thumbnail for their latest video.

Will leaned against the arm of the couch, his arms crossed, as he stared at the ceiling. The silence in the room felt heavy, and he couldn’t help but fill it.

“So, my neighbour’s gone,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet.

James looked up from his phone, one eyebrow raised. “The fit one?”

“Yeah,” Will replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Turns out she’s away for a couple of weeks. Her friend’s looking after her flat.”

Mikey glanced up from the laptop, a smirk already forming on his face. “Mate, you’re obsessed. You sure you’re not just lonely?”

Will rolled his eyes, though the tips of his ears turned pink. “I’m not obsessed. It’s just weird, alright? You get used to something, and then it’s gone.”

Ieuan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

Will groaned, grabbing a pen from the coffee table and chucking it in Ieuan’s direction. “Shut up, man.”

James laughed, the sound sharp and sudden in the otherwise quiet room. “He’s got a point, though. You’ve been going on about her for weeks. First it was the music, now it’s her being gone. Face it, mate—you’re smitten.”

“I’m not smitten,” Will protested, though the way he avoided eye contact suggested otherwise. “It’s just… I dunno. It’s like when you’re watching a series, and your favourite character just disappears for a few episodes. You notice it, don’t you?”

Mikey snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, but this isn’t a series, is it? This is your life. And she’s not a character—she’s your neighbour. Who you’ve apparently been stalking.”

“I’m not stalking her!” Will exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’m just… noticing things. That’s all.”

James smirked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Noticing things, huh? Like what? The way she smiles? The way she smells? The way she—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Will interrupted, his face flushing as he grabbed a cushion from the couch and chucked it at James.

The room erupted into laughter, the sound echoing off the walls. Will sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to suppress a smile.

“You lot are impossible,” he muttered, though there was no real heat in his tone.

Ieuan grinned, leaning back in his chair again. “Face it, Will. You’re down bad. Just admit it.”

Will shook his head, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with them. “Whatever, man. Just wait till she comes back and starts blasting that music again. Then you’ll all be complaining too.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Doubt it. But hey, if it means we get to hear more about your ‘not-a-crush,’ I’m all for it.”

Will groaned, grabbing another cushion and burying his face in it. “I hate you lot.”

The laughter continued, filling the room with a warmth that even Will couldn’t resist. But as the banter died down and the others returned to their work, he found himself staring out the window, his thoughts drifting back to her.

Where are you? He wondered, though he’d never admit it out loud.

Will was halfway out the door, his headphones already in and the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up against the morning chill, when he nearly collided with her.

“Oh, sorry!” she said, stepping back with a laugh.

The sound of her voice cut through the muffled beat of his music, and Will fumbled to pull it off around his neck, his heart skipping a beat. She was standing there, a reusable shopping bag in one hand, and her cheeks flushed from the cold.

“No, my bad,” Will said quickly, his voice slightly breathless—though not from the near-collision. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made his stomach do a weird little flip. “Heading out?”

“Yeah, just for a run,” Will replied, gesturing vaguely toward the street. He suddenly felt hyper-aware of how he must look—stained sweatshirt, hair probably a mess, and his running shoes scuffed from weeks of use.

“You?” he asked, trying to sound casual, though his mind was already racing. He hadn’t expected to see her so soon, and now that she was standing there, he found himself scrambling for something to say.

“Just got back,” she said, holding up the bag. “had no fresh food, plus I needed to stock up on a few things. You know how it is.”

Will nodded, though he wasn’t really listening. His brain was too busy cataloguing the details—the way her hair looked, catching the faint morning light; the subtle scent of coconut, warm and sweet, that seemed to linger in the air around her; the way her smile reached her eyes, crinkling at the corners like she was in on some private joke. It was everything—every little thing—that made her, her. And for a moment, he couldn’t think of anything else.

“Well, I’ll let you get to it,” she said, breaking the silence. “Don’t want to keep you from your run.”

“Right, yeah,” Will said, stepping aside to let her pass. His movements felt awkward, like he was suddenly too aware of his own body. “See you around.”

“See you,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of amusement as she unlocked her door and disappeared inside.

Will stood there for a moment, his earbud still hanging from his neck, the faint sound of music leaking out. He blinked, as if waking up from a dream, and shook his head.

Get it together, mate, he thought, shoving the headphones cushion back in and adjusting his sweatshirt. But as he headed out into the crisp morning air, he couldn’t shake the strange, buzzing energy that had settled in his chest.

The run was supposed to clear his head, but it didn’t. If anything, it made things worse. Every step seemed to echo with the sound of her laugh, and the rhythm of his feet hitting the pavement only reminded him of the beat of her music.

Why am I like this? he wondered, pushing himself to run faster. It’s not like she’s done anything. She’s just… there.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? She was there. And now that he’d actually talked to her—properly talked to her—he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

By the time he got back to the flat, his hoodie was damp with sweat, and his legs were aching. He paused outside her door, just for a second, before shaking his head and heading inside.

You’re being weird, he told himself as he grabbed a glass of water, though he couldn’t ignore the way his heart had skipped a beat when he recalled how she smiled.

The next time they accidentally ran into each other was at Tesco. Will was standing in the ready meal aisle, staring at the rows of plastic trays like they held the answers to life’s greatest mysteries. He’d had a long day, and the thought of cooking anything more complicated than shoving something in the microwave was enough to make him want to lie down on the floor right there.

He was torn between a chicken tikka masala and a beef lasagna, holding one in each hand like scales that refused to balance. The tikka masala looked decent, but the lasagna had that gooey cheese pull in the picture that was hard to ignore. He sighed.

“Tough decision?”

The voice came from behind him, and Will froze. He knew that voice. He’d been hearing it in his head for days now, replaying their brief hallway encounter like some kind of embarrassing highlight reel. Slowly, he turned around, clutching the ready meals like they were a shield.

She was standing there, a basket hooked over her arm and a teasing smile on her face. Her hair was effortlessly neat, and she was wearing an oversized hoodie that somehow made her look soft. Will felt suddenly aware of how he must look—hoodie, joggers, and a faint smear of ketchup on his chest.

“Uh, yeah,” Will said, holding up the two meals like he was presenting evidence in court. “Can’t decide if I want spicy or cheesy.”

She tilted her head, pretending to consider the options with the seriousness of a judge deliberating a life sentence. “Why not go for something spicy?”

Will laughed, the sound surprising even himself.“You know what? You’re right. Both it is.”

She grinned. “Glad I could help.”

Will tossed the chicken tikka into his basket, and the other back into the correct place, feeling oddly pleased with himself. He hadn’t expected to see her here, and now that she was standing in front of him, he found himself scrambling for something to say that didn’t make him sound like a complete idiot.

“So, uh, what brings you to Tesco at…” He glanced at his phone. “8 p.m. on a Tuesday?”

She shrugged, shifting the basket on her arm. “Same as you, probably. Too tired to cook, too hungry to care.”

Will nodded, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Been filming all day. My brain’s fried.”

“Filming?” she asked, her interest piqued. “What kind of stuff do you film?”

“Oh, uh, videos,” Will said, suddenly self-conscious. “For my channel. I make, videos and vlogs and stuff.”

Her eyes lit up. “Wait, seriously? That’s cool!”

Will felt a flush of pride, though he tried to play it cool. “Yeah, they’re fun to make. Bit chaotic sometimes, but that’s half the point, I guess.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, their conversation easy and light. She told him about a new café that had opened nearby, and he recommended his favourite takeaway spot. By the time they parted ways, Will found himself smiling like an idiot. As he walked to the self-checkout, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, watching as she disappeared down another aisle.

The third time was the most unexpected. Will was in the middle of filming a video with Mikey and Ieuan, the three of them weaving through the bustling streets of central London in search of the most hyped food spots. The challenge was simple: try the viral dishes, rate them, and see if they lived up to the hype.

The streets were alive with the usual chaos—tourists snapping photos, double-decker buses rumbling past, and the occasional shout of recognition from fans. Will was holding a massive rainbow-coloured milkshake in one hand and a microphone in the other, trying to explain why this particular dessert had over a million likes on social media.

“I mean, it looks cool,” he said, gesturing to the towering drink, “but does it taste good? That’s the real question.”

Mikey leaned in, taking an exaggerated sip. “It’s basically just sugar. I feel like my teeth are going to fall out.” he made a disgusted face “But yeah, I guess that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s not about the taste—it’s about the aesthetic.”

Will laughed, shaking his head. “Aesthetic or not, I’m not sure my dentist would approve.”

They were about to continue when Will spotted her in the crowd.

She was standing near the edge of the pavement, her arms crossed as she watched with an amused smile. Even from a distance, she stood out, her presence somehow cutting through the noise and commotion around her. Will faltered for a moment, his train of thought derailing completely.

“Will? Mate, you good?” Mikey asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

Will blinked, tearing his gaze away from her. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Got distracted.”

Ieuan followed his line of sight, a smirk spreading across his face. “Distracted, huh? Is that your neighbour?”

Will’s cheeks flushed, and he quickly turned back to the camera. “No idea what you’re talking about. Let’s just keep going.”

But Mikey wasn’t about to let it go. “Oh, it’s definitely her. Will’s gone all red. Look at him!”

Will groaned, shoving Mikey lightly. “Shut up, man. We’re filming.”

Ieuan leaned into frame. “Ladies and gentlemen, Will’s mysterious neighbour has made an appearance. Let’s see if he can keep it together long enough to finish the video.”

Will shot them both a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “You’re both the worst, you know that?”

Will did his best to focus, but his gaze kept drifting back to her. By the time they wrapped up at that restaurant, his heart was hammering in his chest and he felt the sickly sweet drink settle horribly in his stomach. But none of that mattered as he made his way over to her.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, grinning as he approached.

She looked him up and down, her smile widening. “Just passing through. Didn’t expect to see you.”

Will laughed, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to make himself look slightly less dishevelled. “Yeah, well, we film outside sometimes. You sticking around?”

She shook her head, holding up a brightly wrapped gift he didn't see from the restaurant. “Nah, I’ve got plans. But maybe next time.”

There was a teasing lilt to her voice, and Will felt a flicker of something—hope, maybe, or anticipation. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he didn’t want the conversation to end just yet.

“Plans, huh?” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Anything exciting?”

She shrugged, her smile turning playful. “One of my friend's kids has a birthday party. Nothing as exciting as whatever it is you’re doing.”

Will glanced back at Mikey and Ieuan, who were busy packing up equipment and debating where to go next. “Trust me, it’s not as glamorous as it looks. Mostly just running around like idiots and hoping we don’t get arrested.”

She laughed, “Well, you’re doing a great job,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for the video.”

“You should,” Will replied, his grin widening. “I’ll make sure to give you a shoutout.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. “Oh, really? And what would you say?”

Will hesitated, his mind racing for a witty response, but all he could come up with was, “I’ll think of something.”

She laughed again, shaking her head. “Nah, you don’t have to do that.” She paused, then added, “But if you really want to make it up to me, you could give me your number.”

Will’s heart skipped a beat, but he tried to play it cool. “Yeah? And what if I don’t want to share my number?”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep running into you by accident. Seems like it’s working so far.”

Will laughed, pulling out his phone. “Alright, you’ve got me. What’s your number?”

She rattled it off, and Will quickly typed it into his contacts. He sent her a quick text—just his name and a smiley face—so she’d have his number too.

“There,” he said, holding up his phone. “Now, you can’t say I didn’t make an effort.”

She grinned, pulling out her own phone to save his number. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As she turned to leave, Will felt a pang of disappointment. He watched her walk away, her figure disappearing into the crowd, before turning back to Mikey and Ieuan. The two of them were grinning like idiots, clearly waiting for him to say something.

“So,” Mikey said, slinging an arm around Will’s shoulders. “Your neighbour, huh?”

Will groaned, shoving him off. “Don’t start.”

Ieuan smirked, holding up his phone. “Too late. I already got a photo of you two. This is going straight on Twitter.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Will said, though he knew what Ieuan said was an empty threat.

Mikey laughed, clapping him on the back. “Face it, mate. You’re down bad.”

Will rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Will found himself checking his phone more often than usual, his heart skipping a beat every time a notification popped up. Their messages had started off casual—just a few texts here and there—but quickly evolved into something more. It was the kind of back-and-forth that made him smile like an idiot, even when he was in the middle of work.

Her: So, what’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you on camera?

Will: Oh god, don’t make me relive it.

Her: Come on, I told you about the time I tripped and ate shit in front of my entire uni class. Fair’s fair.

Will: Fine. There was this one time we were filming a challenge video, and I accidentally set off a fire alarm. In a library. It was mortifying.

Her: No way. Please tell me there’s footage.

Will: Oh, there is. But I’m taking that one to my grave.

Her: I’ll find it. I have my ways.

Will: You’re terrifying.

Her: You love it.

Will stared at his phone, his cheeks heating up at her last message. He didn’t even notice James leaning over his shoulder until it was too late.

“Mate, you’re grinning at your phone like a lunatic,” James said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Who is it?”

Will quickly locked his screen, shoving his phone into his pocket. “No one.”

James raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Right. And I’m the Queen of England. Come on, spill. Is it the neighbour?”

Will groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe. So what?”

James smirked, leaning back in his chair. “You’re gone, mate. It’s written all over your face.”

“Shut up,” Will muttered, though he couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s just texting. No big deal.”

“Sure it isn’t,” James said, his shit eating grin widening.

Will chucked a cushion at him, but he was smiling. As much as he hated to admit it, James was right. He was gone. And he didn’t mind one bit.

The messages continued, each one pulling him further into her orbit. They talked about everything—her favourite books, any film recommendations he had, the time she accidentally locked herself out of her flat in her pyjamas. It was easy, effortless, and Will found himself looking forward to every notification.

Then, one evening, during a late filming session he was sprawled on the sofa at the office, his phone buzzed.

Her: So, I was thinking…

Will: Dangerous.

Her: Ha. Very funny. But seriously, I was thinking… we should hang out. Properly.

Will’s heart skipped a beat. He typed out a reply, deleted it, and then typed it again.

Will: Yeah, I’d like that. What did you have in mind?

Her: There’s this little park near the flat. It’s quiet, nice for a walk. I’ll meet you there and we could grab coffee and just… chill.

Will: Sounds perfect. When?

Her: Tomorrow? Say, 3?

Will: I’ll be there.

Will put his phone down, trying to act casual, but his heart was racing. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, a grin spreading across his face before he could stop it. He quickly schooled his expression, glancing around the room to make sure no one had noticed. James was sprawled on the other end of the couch, scrolling through his phone, while Mikey and Ieuan were arguing over something in the kitchen. For once, they were too absorbed in their own chaos to pay him any attention.

Good. He didn’t need the teasing right now.

Will picked up his phone again, unlocking it just to reread the messages. We should hang out. Properly. His stomach did a weird little flip, and he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. He wasn’t sure what “properly” meant, but he wasn’t about to overthink it. Not yet, anyway.

He opened his camera roll, scrolling through a few recent photos to make sure he didn’t look like a complete mess. His hair was… fine. He could work with this. Maybe he’d shave in the morning. Just to be safe.

“What’s got you so twitchy?” James asked suddenly, not looking up from his phone.

Will froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. “What? Nothing. I’m not twitchy.”

James glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “You’ve been staring at your phone like it’s about to explode. Spill.”

Will sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket. “It’s nothing. Just… plans tomorrow.”

James smirked, clearly not buying it. “Plans, huh? With who?”

“No one,” Will said quickly, though the way his voice cracked gave him away.

James sat up, his grin widening. “Alright, keep your secrets. Though we know who it is already. Enjoy your plans.”

Will chucked a cushion at him, but he was smiling.

The next day dragged on endlessly. Will tried to focus on work, but his mind kept wandering. He found himself glancing at the clock every five minutes, counting down the hours until 3. By the time the afternoon rolled around, he was a bundle of nerves, pacing around the flat and second-guessing everything.

“What am I even wearing?” Will asked himself, as he rifled through his wardrobe. He held up a hoodie and then tossed it aside. “Something casual but not too casual, maybe?”

Will hummed to himself, “What about this?” pulling out a clean jumper and holding it up to the mirror over his body. Nodding, he put it on.

By the time 2:30 rolled around, Will was ready to crawl out of his skin. He grabbed his jacket, checked his hair in the mirror one last time, and headed out the door before he could talk himself out of what he was wearing. Again.

The park was only a short walk away, but it felt like an eternity. Will’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his breath visible in the cool air. He spotted her almost immediately, sitting on a bench under a tree. She looked up as he approached, her smile lighting up her face.

“Hey,” she said, standing to greet him. “You made it.”

“Hey,” Will replied, his voice slightly breathless—though not from the walk. “Thanks for inviting me here. It’s nice.”

She nodded, falling into step beside him as they started down the path. “Yeah, I come here when I need to clear my head.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant chatter of other park-goers. Will glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the way the sunlight caught her eyes. The golden hour light seemed to soften everything, and he felt a strange sense of calm, even as his nerves buzzed beneath the surface.

After a moment, Will broke the silence, his voice light and curious. “So, what made you move to this area? It’s not exactly the most… lively part of London.”

She hummed in thought, “Honestly? It was the flat. I’d been looking for ages, and when I saw the place, I just knew it was the one. Big windows, decent kitchen, and—most importantly—no mould. That’s a win in my book.”

He grinned. “No mould? Living the dream.”

“Exactly,” she said, smiling. “What about you? Why’d you move here?”

He tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “I needed a change. My old place was… fine, but it felt like I was just going through the motions there. You know? I wanted somewhere that felt like a fresh start. And when I saw the flat, I loved how quiet the street was. Well, most of the time.” Will shot her a playful look. She said nothing, just laughed.

Will changed the topic. “So, what’s with the reggaetón, then? That's what it's called, right? I mean, it’s not exactly what I’d expect to hear blasting in the morning.”

She smiled indulgently, clearly enjoying his curiosity. “It’s my go-to hype music. I used to live in Spain for a bit, and it just stuck with me. There’s something about it that just… wakes you up, you know? Gets you moving.”

Will nodded, pretending to consider it. “I mean, I can’t argue with that. It definitely woke me up. Every. Single. Morning.”

She laughed again, nudging him with her elbow. “Sorry, not sorry. But hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been listening to it a bit quieter lately. Consider it a peace offering.”

“I appreciate it,” Will said, grinning. “Though I have to admit, the mornings have been a bit too quiet without it. I didn’t realise how much I’d gotten used to it.”

She raised an eyebrow, her smile teasing. “Are you saying you miss my music?”

“Maybe,” Will admitted, his cheeks heating up. “Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Too late.”

They continued walking, the conversation flowing effortlessly. At one point, she pointed out a small café tucked into the corner of the park, its windows glowing warmly in the fading light. “That place does the best hot chocolate,” she said. “Want to grab one?”

Will nodded, trying to hide his excitement. “Yeah, sounds perfect.”

The café was cosy, with mismatched furniture and the faint scent of cinnamon in the air. They found a table near the window, and Will couldn’t help but notice how the soft light made her eyes sparkle. They ordered two hot chocolates, and when they arrived, topped with whipped cream and a dusting of cocoa powder, Will couldn’t resist taking a photo.

“For the ‘gram,” he joked, holding up his phone.

She laughed, stirring her drink with a spoon. “Do you always document your food, or is this a special occasion?”

“Only when it’s this photogenic,” Will said, grinning. “And when I’m with good company.”

She smiled at that, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Smooth.”

“I try,” Will said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. It was rich and creamy, exactly what he needed on a cool evening. “So, Spain, huh? What took you there?”

She leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “The company I worked for closed the branch in the UK, but I was in the middle of a project at the time with an important client, so I had to move until it was complete.”

Will nodded, intrigued. “That’s amazing. Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes,” she said, her smile softening. “But I think I needed to come back. It’s easy to get stuck in one place, you know?”

“I get that,” Will said, his tone thoughtful. “I’ve always wanted to travel more, but I never seem to find the time.”

She smiled and nodded. “You should. Life’s too short.”

They stayed at the café for a while, talking about everything and nothing—favourite places they’d visited, the worst food they’d ever tried, whether they were morning people or night owls (she was definitely a morning person, much to Will’s amusement). The conversation was easy, natural, and Will found himself wishing the evening would never end.

As they left the café, the cool evening air wrapping around them like a blanket, she turned to him with a smile. “Thanks for today,” she said, her voice soft. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” Will replied, his voice equally quiet. “We should do it again sometime.”

She nodded, her smile widening. “I’d like that.”

And as they walked back to their flats, the city lights flickering to life around them, Will couldn’t help but feel like everything was falling into place. For the first time in a long time, he was exactly where he was meant to be.

#willne #willne x fem!reader #will lenney #willne x reader #will lenney x fem!reader #will lenney x reader

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onekeii · 2 months ago

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'Cause it's Christmas!

Day 8: Touch starved Stray Kids: Lee Know x GN!Reader Warnings/Genre: hurt to comfort, fluff, alcohol consumption, reader drinks irresponsibly, reader wears makeup (lipstick), just a tad depressing but in a good way, not proof read Word count: 1,006 AN: for those of us who don’t want to go home for the holidays, lots of love <3

Read on AO3

Christmas sucks.

Christmas wasn’t about giving presents, eating good food, or smiling with family and friends. For you, it was about faking smiles, navigating shouting matches, and forgetting to breathe.

Well, you’d had enough.

This was your first year spending Christmas alone. All your friends had gone home to their warm and loving families, while you… sat. The white walls of your apartment, barren from fairy lights or tinsel, were your company for tonight. If you squinted, you might believe you weren’t drinking on your own.

Your hand held, rather carelessly, a whisky tumbler. Filled to the brim with the remainder of a nice spirit a friend left you with, the glass’ rim was stained red from how many times you brought it to your lips that night. Why did you even put on lipstick? There was no one to impress, no mistletoe to kiss under - just a burn in your throat, and another dish to scrub at tomorrow.

One more gulp, one more greasy red stain on the glass, and you downed the rest of the drink. “I should set an alarm for tomorrow,” you’ve started thinking out loud. But you don’t set the alarm. Your phone was- somewhere, and probably dead. “I’ll only check it when Christmas is over,” you promised yourself while still sober. If you received just one message, notification, photo, of someone enjoying their time, you’d break your phone for sure.

Still, this was better than being at home.

You put the fragile glass down on the floor with a not-so-fragile bang. Then you bundled your blankets around you, over your head and around your shoulders, until you were completely covered. It was definitely warm, but the soft fleece was just a reminder of how utterly cold you felt; no blanket could fix you.

Knock knock.

Blinking, like an owl, you swivel your head round to face the door. It’s Christmas Eve, what could anyone possibly want? Maybe your neighbours were just being loud, or you were finally starting to hear things. You turn back to face the wall.

Knock knock knock. With more urgency this time.

“Okay! Fine, wait!” You yell. You’re trapped in your prison of blankets, sluggishly fighting your way through the soft mess. Every movement rattles your brain in your skull like a violent child with a snowglobe. It hurts, pounding behind your eyes and pulling your scalp tight. The whisky glass comes into view, in threes, when you finally break free. You curse it.

Your hands find purchase on any nearby surface - the couch, the doorframe, the coat rack (it nearly topples over), and finally, the door handle. With all your strength - a little too much - you yank the door open, “It’s Christmas Eve,” you slur with little pride, “what- Minho?”

It takes two blinks to be sure. At first, you’re not surprised he’s there, you’re just unsure whether it’s actually him. Yes, that’s the stern expression you know so well, cutting through you. Well, now there’s two of him.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas Eve,” he scoffs, inviting himself inside, “so why,” he stops when you wobble and plant your hands on his arm for support, “are you like this?”

“‘Cause it’s Christmas!” you cheer. You’re too dizzy to feel any shame.

Minho’s eyebrows snap together at your state. What would have happened to you if he didn’t come?

“When I told my parents you were spending Christmas alone, they asked for you to come over, but…” he sighed, looking you up and down as you pawed at his jumper, “I can’t bring you over like this.”

One arm wraps around his torso, then another, then he’s being squeezed. Tight. You knock the air out of Minho for a moment, but your face shows no sign of any evil deeds. You’re burrowing your head into the space between his neck and shoulder, the fabric of his red Christmas jumper is horrible and scratchy but he’s warm, in a way much more fulfilling than any blanket or hard liquor.

“Then don’t,” your voice is muffled into his neck. Minho’s more taken aback by, more than anything else, the fact that you managed to hear what he said, “Huh?”

You shoot your head up to look him in the eyes. It takes a minute, they finally sink into your vision without you seeing doubles, but they’re definitely there - he’s definitely there. His face is so close to yours, you’re sure he can smell the alcohol in your breath. Hot, you think, snapping your mouth shut. “Stay here? For a bit?” you plead, “I don’t wanna be alone for Christmas after all- it’s awful,” your eyes are welling up now, tears separating Minho from your sight once more.

But he wasn’t going to say no - you didn’t even need to start crying for that. “I wasn’t gonna leave you,” there’s the tiniest bit of venom in his voice, as if he were offended you would even think otherwise, “You need to go to bed.”

“No-” your voice catches, a hiccup stops you from finishing your sentence. “Maybe,” you giggle. Minho just shakes his head, but he winds one arm around your shoulders, the other snaking behind your knees. Your stomach drops for a second as he lifts you up without a struggle or grunt of effort. You swing your legs back and forth a little, testing his balance, but he doesn’t falter.

Then you’re in bed, and he’s pulling the covers up to your chin. Despite sitting on the edge with you, Minho makes no move to get in until you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull, hard. “Okay, okay, fine,” he wraps the blankets around the both of you. He lets you curl into his chest, your head tucked under his chin, fitting together perfectly like puzzle pieces.

His smell, the steady rise and fall of his chest, his shallow breaths against your head, the heat from his palms pressed into your back - finally, you feel warm. Actually warm.

For the first time ever, Christmas doesn’t suck.

@12daysofchristmas

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suguwu · 8 months ago

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minors and ageless blogs dni.

your planet was known for its sapphires.

the mines dried up a handful of years ago. the ipc scraped the deposits down to the marrow, until not even the smallest glint of crystal existed.

most of the sapphires were off-planet, now, adorning the arms of the elite throughout the cosmos, shining brilliantly even in the dimmest light. they gleamed dark blue, like where the ocean meets the sun, all shimmering waters. the fathomless depths.

aventurine wears a bracelet made of them.

technically, it's yours.

you lost it to him under the two moons of a planet you've long forgotten the name of. you only remember the blushing rose of its sky reflecting off of the bone dice.

it was a stupid thing to put up as collateral. but you were stupid, back then, high off of innumerable victories.

your hands were shaking too badly to undo the clasp; he had to do it for you. he slipped it onto his own wrist, his expression unreadable, and you wondered if the gems still carried the heat of your skin.

he showed up again six system months later, with a smug little secret tucked up in the corner of his easy grin. he'd slung the bracelet into the pot without even glancing at you.

he only looked at you after you'd won it back.

"i don't lose often," he told you. "how about a drink?"

you should have declined, but you didn't. you let him buy you one round, and then two, and by the third, you'd said some things you shouldn't have.

the ipc acquired that planet a few weeks later.

you moved.

aventurine found you again in epsilon, reigning over a poker table. you'd scowled at him when he sat down across from you; he'd just smiled.

"nothing personal," he said. "just business."

"fuck off," you said, but he hadn't.

he won easily. you pushed your chips over to him and he caught you by the wrist.

"wanna chance to win it back?" he asked.

"i don't have anything left."

he tapped a gloved fingertip over one of the sapphires.

"no," you said.

"shame," he said. "i liked that."

"then buy one."

he tilted his head. "we both know i can't."

you flinched. you couldn't help but cover the bracelet with your hand, as if doing so would make his knowledge disappear.

aventurine smiled. "alright then," he said. "next time, maybe."

"there won't be a next time."

"we'll see."

there was a next time. you don't have the money you lost to him, and he ran a thumb over the sapphires. he left the table with them glinting on his wrist, night-sky blue.

the time after that, he traced his fingers over the delicate skin of your inner wrist after clicking the clasp shut. the stones were still warm from his body heat.

you left before you did something stupid.

it went like that for a long while, the bracelet constantly changing wrists. you knew you shouldn't be betting it, but you couldn't quite help yourself.

"ambassador," aventurine said. "imagine meeting you here."

you didn't glance up from your game. "stoneheart."

"so cold," he said.

the bracelet has been yours for the last eight system months.

"you started it," you said, because he's never called you by your title.

he laughed. "i suppose i did."

at your gesture, the other players left the table. aventurine settled next to you. you dealt him in without a word.

he lost.

you eyed him over the rim of your drink. "you're off your game."

"am i?"

"seems like it."

"my apologies, then."

you watched him for a moment. his smile curled at the edges, something smug tucked up between his lips. it didn't reach his vivid eyes.

you sighed and unclasped the bracelet.

he pulled back as you reached for your wrist, his eyes sharp. "i lost, you know."

"yeah," you said. "now hold still."

he hesitated for a moment more, but then he let you put the bracelet on him. you clicked the clasp closed. he twisted his wrist, the facets of the sapphires catching the light, the ocean's reflection. your mother had carved them perfectly.

"don't lose it," you told him. "i'll win it back next time."

he studied you, his gaze slipping beneath your skin like a knife. then he smiled, carefully carefree.

"wanna bet?"

#bee writes hsr #another weird drabble that is now yours #i'm just obsessed with his bracelet idk why #aventurine x reader

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mintmatcha · 11 months ago

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Inevitable Things: chapter two

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks. no porn in first two chapters, sorry gang :)

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

When you arrive at 8:35, all of the lights in the building are already on, a warm, yellow hued light against the stormy sky. The exterior almost melts into the overcast; it makes you think of that ‘bye-bye blue' that Disney coined for its buildings, only much more depressing. Sometimes you look at this build and think about the hours of your life that it’s stolen, but not today. No, for once, you decide to have a good day.

It’s your birthday, after all.

The dash across the parking lot is a bit wobbly, your heels catching the gravel and potholes. Mic had texted you last night to remind you to wear something special, since he and a couple other office friends were taking you out, so you had dawned the only pair of heels you actually liked: a red pair you found at a thrift shop years ago. The stilettos are a bit high and much too sexy for your taste, but there’s an unknowable something about them that you love.

You did, however, forget your umbrella.

One of the interns is by the door, jacket pulled over his head to protect himself and his cigarette from the rain. Izuku, chubby cheeked and doe eyed, is shorter than most of his peers, with thick green curls that puff up and frizz in the humidity. For his stature, he’s surprisingly built; he and his boyfriend -no, fiance now- go to the gym together every morning and the hard work shows. You can’t help but notice the curve of bicep that flexes as he moves his arm back to his face.

“Good morning!” you call out. The weather is cool, so you wrap both hands around your special little birthday latte. Izuku seems unphased by the weather; he sniffles a bit as he pulls another drag, freckled nose wrinkling. The red stained rims of his eyes are stark against his tan skin.

“Yeah.” He sucks in a breath, trying to keep his voice light and failing. His Southern draw sits heavy on his tongue. “Not quite.”

“Oh no, what happened?” Rain drives a shiver up your spine and so does the look in his eyes.

“Like, okay, it was so-” He takes another thick pull and exhales it too quickly, coughing a bit as he talks. His ideas come faster than his mouth can handle. “First thing this morning-- well, actually, Ka-chan and I got here before anybody, so it wasn’t, like, first thing-first thing, you know? Anyway, like- thirty minutes after the first thing, when Mr. Aizawa arrived, he like, didn’t even set his stuff down before he told me to get into the conference room, which is crazy because he usually won’t do anything until you’re here and-”

“Izuku, focus.”

“I am focused-- these are important details! Mr. Aizawa pulled me into a conference room this morning and reamed me out. Incompetent: he called me lazy and incompetent, which is crazy because I do so much in this department! You wouldn’t believe it! And you know what Ka did? Laughed. He could hear it from the cubicle and he laughed, isn’t that awful? We’re getting married and yet he thinks it's okay to laugh at my misfortun-?”

“Wait, slow down,” you say. “Why were you yelled at?”

Izuku takes a dramatic gulp of air to slow himself, but it clearly does nothing. His finger twiddle the cigarette back and forth, ash falling to the puddle at his feet.. “He told me the work I turned in yesterday wasn't acceptable.”

It couldn't be the things you did. There’s no way; you’re smart -- well, okay, maybe not. You’re competent at least-- competent enough that you’ve done the reports previously without any complaints.

“No.”

“It's my fault.” Izuku continues. His accent gets thicker when it’s holding worry, clipping words and rounding out other sounds. “I should have finished them myself, but Denki offered to help me out-- and I had a meeting with the wedding planner yesterday so I had to leave early; if i was late again I would have upset Mitsuki and I couldn’t upset Mitsuki again because she’s intense, like, way more intense that Katsuki ever is, so I’m a little terrified of her-”

Fuck. You can’t listen- you’re trying to focus on keeping your breakfast down. That was your work. You’re the one that made Izuku and Denki look bad.

“-Biomedical engineering. Why did I pick biomedical engineering? I should have chosen law school like Iida. That would have been a better career path.”

“What about Denki?” You interrupt his rambling and he seems to snap out of his panic loop. For once, he’s quiet. “What about Denki, Izuku?”

“Oh.” Izuku says. “Yeah. Well.”

He places the cigarette between his teeth and goes to suck, only to realize he’s hit the filter. With a tsk, he smashes the embers against the concrete side of the building, but doesn’t drop the butt, instead holding it in his palm. A trickle of rain runs down your cheek, just enough to make you shiver.

“Allegedly,” Now, he speaks too slowly, chewing on every word. “HR is working on his off boarding.”

Your body forgets how to breathe. The interns are all part of a specific college program- if they aren’t working, they don’t get credit towards their summer graduation. Because of you, Denki will not be graduating this spring-- in fact, he’s going to have to wait another full school year until he can apply for graduating again. Your head is spinning from the lack of oxygen and you have to manually force yourself to suck in a breath.

“He’s fired?” you ask, stupidly.

“I’m not surprised, to be honest.” Izuku says. His pretty little curls are flattened now, heavy with wet. “This was his fifth big mistake and Mr. Aizawa is, well… he’s Mr. Aizawa. He doesn’t pull any punches.”

“Oh, geez.” You want to barf. “Oh, no, oh, geez.”

You’re ruining someone's life. One mistake and you’ve fucked everything up. Tears prickle hot behind your eyes as you think; what are your options here? You can’t just let this happen. Your job is to fix things-- that’s the only thing you’re good for. Discussing this with Aizawa would be a dead end; he’d probably just fire you too. You need to go above him.

“I’ll fix this,” you say, mostly to reassure yourself. You turn on your heel and march inside, a plan already forming in your mind. “Don’t worry.”

“Fix what?” Izuku calls after you. “Denki getting fired?”

You flash the security officer your badge, not bothering to turn around. There’s no time for that. The head of HR is usually punctual, so you only have a couple minutes before he arrives and sees the termination paperwork. It’ll take time to process, of course, but you’d rather fix this before it’s even reached that point. You scramble to your desk and don’t bother to sit down before you’re picking up your phone and dialing. The number is posted on a little sticky note, right under ‘emergencies only’ written in big red letters. This… counts, right? This is an emergency in its own regard.

The line rings once, then twice. Then, it clicks.

“Good morning.” The voice on the other side is unusually smooth, a clear timbre despite it all. In between words he takes long, drawing breaths, pulling through his nasal cannula. “Is my company? On fire?”

You laugh at that and you aren’t sure why. Maybe it’s the trill of fear in your gut, burrowing its way out anyway it can. “Good morning, sir. No, the building is still standing, luckily.”

“Please," he says, and you understand immediately.

“Yagi.” The informality of it all feels weird, even after all this time. He's the CEO and he wants you to address him like a friend. It’s been that way since you first started, but it still feels undeserved. “How are you?”

“I’m well.” Behind him you can hear the mumble of the television: a children’s show, you think. “My niece is visiting. So, I’ve been. Spending a lot of time. By the pond, feeding the ducks.”

He mentioned once that he had wanted children, but the company had taken up too much of his time. That memory makes your gut twist in a different way as you remember just how finite his time really is.

“That sounds lovely.”

“It is lovely.” He pauses. Then, clears his throat. “Not that I’m. Not happy to hear from you, but… why are you calling?”

“Well, I-” You’re not sure where to start. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, swaying like you have to pee. “I made a mistake.”

“What kind of mistake?”

“Not a company ruining one, but…” Oh, geez. Maybe you'll end up being the one without a job today. “I finalized some work for the engineering department interns and it wasn’t up to standard. And the manager-”

“-Shouta?”

“Yes, uh. Aizawa. He wasn’t aware of that fact and he fired the intern for work that I did.”

There's a pause.

“Are you sure?” He sniffles a bit. You can picture how he itches his nose with the back of his hand. He hates that tube. “I know he isn’t. The warmest man, but Aizawa. Isn’t one to fire. An employee without. Apt reason. Have you tried. Speaking to him?”

You can’t. The idea of confrontation makes your skin itch. Besides, you can’t just look him in the eyes and admit you fucked up-- he’d lose his mind.

“I just can’t let Kaminari get in trouble for my work.”

Yagi hums a low tone.

“I’ll bring it. To Shouta’s attention.” You almost jump for joy at that. “And I’ll let HR. Know.”

“Oh, thank you.” You’re physically bouncing. “I felt so guilty.”

“That’s under. Standable.” he says. “Maybe we. Have the engineers. Do their own work from now on, okay?”

“I know, I know, I just--” Can’t say no? “I like to be useful.”

“You’re more than useful.” His voice is warm, almost paternal. “I’m being told that I have an episode of Bluey to watch, so…”

“Goodbye, have fun, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You hang up, then wait a couple beats before sighing with relief. Crisis avoided! Happy birthday to you! Maybe, against all odds, this will be a good day.

You drop into your seat and let it spin. Your latte isn’t hot anymore, but even lukewarm it’s still pretty damn good. After it boots up, your computer notifications are alight with companies wishing you a happy day and a merry 30% off. There’s a couple of DMs from coworkers that you haven’t opened yet as well and the attention makes you glitter.You almost forget that Touya still hasn't read your messages. It's not a surprise; he always forgets your birthday. It shouldn’t upset you at this point.

The workday official starts and, for once, it’s calm. There’s time to organize your desk and check on your facebook. Maybe, just maybe, the universe has decided to be kind to you. Yagi sounded better than he usually does, if not a bit winded.

You’re thirty, but you don’t feel older. 18 feels like last week, 25 is still your friend. Being this old almost feels like a joke-- especially being this old and single, with a job you’re not passionate about. You thought, maybe, that things would be okay by now. You’d be successful, with more than a couple hundred in your checking account, and a husband that could return a fucking text. Life, of course, had other plans.

It’s not that you don’t love Touya. You do. You really do. You just wish that you didn’t. It's easier to love someone like Hizashi or a boring man from R&D, but being with him feels like running on sand as it sinks down an hourglass. You're too far gone already, too intertwined with him; fate has linked you to a man that will inevitably break your heart, over and over again.

You almost don’t notice the stomp of boots down the hallway until it’s too late. You’ve been eclipsed.

Aizawa turns the corner so quickly that you jump and spill your coffee. His brow furrowed so deeply that his ‘11’ lines have gained an extra 1, and extra wrinkles have puckered around his straight drawn mouth. When he speaks, his lips curl up in one corner in revulsion, giving you a hint of canine. Someone from marketing walks down the hall, meets your eyes, then turns back around, fleeing it away from this situation. You wish you could do the same.

His hands press flat against your desk. The space he takes up alone makes you wilt, drawing back into your chair. Oh, he's pissed. Beyond pissed. His hair is down for once, falling in front of his face as he talks, and his hoodie sleeves are pushed to his elbows, revealing the punched, tense muscle underneath. The finer hairs on his arms are raised up into goosebumps, standing straight like pins.

“If you have a problem with the way I run my department,” Aizawa seethes. “At least have the balls to say it to my face.”

The air in your lungs turns icy. You’re frozen there, hands hovering above your keyboard, unsure if you should even pick up your drink.

“On what planet is it acceptable to tattle on me to the CEO?” His voice carries down the hall as he growls at you, the low, rolling tone of his voice somehow more terrifying than actual yelling. He reminds you of a wild dog, ears pinned back and ready to bite. And you’re just the poor rabbit in his path. “And to HR? Are you fucking kidding? You’re better than this.”

Oh, this is the type of interaction you were trying to avoid. Heat flares across your cheeks as you sputter and you frantically look anywhere else to avoid the burn. “I-- uh--”

“Did the interns come crying to you again?” Aizawa continues. “Did you let them walk all over you again?”

He leans in even closer.

“You are not their mother or their friend. They are adults. With jobs. And they do not need the secretary saving them from work they are paid to do-- especially Kaminari, who regularly abuses your good faith.”

Your shoes. You focus on those. Your pretty, candy red heels with the delicate strap, the ones Touya always compliments and the ones that make you feel beautiful.

“Calling Toshinori? May I remind you that he is actively dying? May I remind you that you are actively wasting his time with this?"

Shoes, look at your shoes.

"I also don’t have the fucking time for this. We are a business in a time crunch-- I don’t have the energy or brain power or man power to be dragging around dead weight," he says. "If I decide someone isn't fit enough to work here, they are not fit to work here. Do you understand that?”

Oh. A sudden, horrible realization hits you. All of the weeks of stress and loneliness and heartbreak and other random bullshit that’s built up in your life is hitting all at once and, despite how hard you’re trying not to, you are going to cry. Tears are prickling hot against the corners of your eyes, burning to come out, and you know there’s only second before they spill over-

“Do you understand that?”

You look up. He looks down. Your lip quivers.

Aizawa immediately draws back, eyes widening with realization. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, drawing in a short breath. His brows are pinched together differently now; if he was anyone else, you’d assume he was sorry. If he was anyone else, you might care.

“I didn’t mean to…” he tries.

“You’re-” You want to scream and fight and curse, but all you can say is: “I hate you.”

It’s incredibly juvenile, but saying it feels good. With all of the fury you can muster, you stand, chair bouncing back against the wall behind you, and march out of there and straight into the women’s bathroom. You hold your chin high until the door slams behind you.

Then, you sob. It’s loud enough that you know it can be heard in the hall, wet enough that all of your make-up ends on the back of your hands, hard enough that you lose one of your contacts, but you just can’t stop. It comes in a torrent, one that doesn’t stop until you’re all blurry eyed and swollen and absolutely, positively destroyed.

Fucking astrology. Fucking Aizawa. Fucking work. Fucking Touya. Fucking turning thirty.

Your heels look stupid against the blue and white linoleum. The faux leather no longer looks convincing, but like cheap, normal plastic. Your cellphone is still on your desk and covered in an 8 dollar latte, so there's nothing to distract you from your own downward spiral. You want to be helpful. You want to be a good person, but nothing seems to work out that way.

By the time you manage to peel yourself out of the bathroom stall, the world has started to turn again. Someone’s at the coffee station, stirring in way too many sugars, someone else is taking on the phone just out of earshot. Aizawa is thankfully gone. You’re not sure you could have handled more of that.

Frankly, you’re not sure you can handle more of anything. You strip your other contact from your eye and throw on your only other option: the emergency glasses you have stashed in your desk. Great, as if you didn't feel bad enough already, now you feel ugly too.

A ping comes through from HR, letting you know that you have sick time available 'if need be.’ For once, the office gossip works in your favor. You shoot off a quick reply, confirming that you're going to head out, then grab your phone. It's sticky and wet, but it still works.

do you want to leave work early and go get drunk?<-

Hizashi’s response is almost immediate.

->leave work early????? who is this and what have you done with my babygirl?????

-is that a no? ): <-

->are you kidding?????? I’ll be at your desk in 15

You are going to get drunk. Very. Very. Drunk.

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waywardxrhea · 4 months ago

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Tuna-Tober Day 16 - Din Djarin

pairing: Din Djarin x fem!mechanic!reader

prompt: against a window

word count: 2,252

content: smut! MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY! nipple play, choking (not in great detail, just a mention), fingering, unprotected PIV sex, language (in Mando'a that i found on here so who knows if its correct lmao). some cute FLUFF that had me kicking my feet it was so cute lol

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

mando'a translations

mesh'la - beautiful Osi’kyr - oh shit

Moons ago…

You were walking to a drop site where you were going to get some parts for a ship you were fixing when you passed by something that had you doing a double-take. After rubbing your strained and tired eyes, you blinked hard as you focused on the ship across from you. It couldn’t be! Looking at the time, you noted that if you did just a quick look around the craft, you would still be able to make the meeting with your parts dealer, so you headed toward the vintage ship.

The ship in question was an ST-70 class Razor Crest M-111. This type of ship was used during the days of the Empire, and you hadn’t seen one since you were a child. Your father had worked on a few now and again over the years, but they got more scarce as time went on after the Empire fell. The broken ships that people commandeered in the chaos were how your dad taught you how to repair them into better condition than even new.

It was how you ended up on this far-off planet in the Outer Rim. Your shop was mobile, on a souped up ship of your own that was able to accommodate you and your clients’ ever-changing ship repair needs. This time, you were on Florrum for someone who needed a tune-up on a freighter, and what should have been an easy fix turned out to be more complicated than they let on in their original consultation. Nevertheless, you were able to get into contact with the people who had the parts you needed to make the necessary repairs.

Which is what had taken you to admiring the Razor Crest in front of you. Doing a quick walk around, you noticed that whoever the owner was had added some upgrades of their own. The original laser guns were replaced with more powerful ones for starters. It made you wary of being around the ship because heavy firepower could mean that the owner wasn’t someone you wanted to mess with. You knew how important peoples’ ships were to them.

As you stood looking at one of the side panels that had some wires poking out from what looked like where a deflector shield had failed, you heard heavy footsteps approaching. The unmistakable sound of a blaster being pulled from a holster met your ears before you heard a modulated voice say, “Step away from the ship.”

Putting your hands in the air, you slowly turned around to face the voice as you said, “I didn’t touch anything. Just admiring. And looking at this panel that needs repair.” When you turned around, you were face-to-face with a Mandalorian in shiny silver beskar who was hauling what looked to be a passed out man. “I-I see that you’re quite busy though, and I have to meet with someone for some repair parts for a Questor. Forget I was here,” you said quickly, not wanting him to pull the trigger on the blaster aimed right at your forehead.

The man didn’t say anything nor did he move a muscle, but he also didn’t react to you turning and quickly making your exit, so you thanked the Maker as you tried to blow off the anxiety that had filled your entire body because of the encounter. Sure, there had been blasters pointed at you in the past over one thing or another, but the commanding presence of the Mandalorian had shaken you. Maybe it was the inability to see the face of the person pointing the blaster at you or the glint of the light off of the armor. Maybe it was the rifle poking out from over his shoulder or the many rounds of ammunition and explosives he had ready to use at a moment’s notice. Maybe it was the uncertainty of what happened to that man he was dragging along with him.

Whatever it was though drove you to the nearest cantina after making more progress on the Questor you were tasked with fixing. The atmosphere inside was electric. It was the most lively place you had stepped into since being on this planet, and you knew lively and fun was just what you needed to relax.

After a couple of drinks, you were finally starting to shake your anxiety when you heard from beside you the same voice from before saying, “I hear you’re the person to go to for ship repairs.” You tensed up for a moment upon hearing the voice, but the drinks in your system dulled the usually sharp edge of the guard you shielded yourself with. Looking over to the Mandalorian, you nodded silently. “Well, like you saw earlier, my ship’s in need of repair. There’s more than just cosmetic damage that I won’t discuss here. You’d earn more than your fair wages if you could fix it.”

And that was how you ended up traveling with the Mandalorian. Din Djarin. You learned quickly that he wasn’t all weapons and armor and intimidation. When he wasn’t in bounty hunter mode, he was a sweet and accommodating man who was fiercely protective of those close to him. Din had made space on his ship for all of your work supplies, and when he was gathering up bounties, you repaired ships in whatever area you were stationed at that day.

Repairing the Crest was an almost daily occurrence and the main reason Din found himself tracking you down to another planet to ask you to travel with him. You thought the request odd at first, but after seeing the ship after one battle, you knew you needed to help the man out. On top of repairing the Crest as needed, you also helped take care of the spirited child Din found himself in charge of. Grogu. He tended to mess with things he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t usually anything a quick modification couldn’t fix.

Living and working with someone on a daily basis had its way of pulling people close together, and no matter how much you and Din tried to keep things professional, your escalating feelings were inevitable. At first things started off physically when he found you in a compromising position in your bunk, thinking you had been hurt judging by the quiet noises he heard coming from the area. From there, things got more intimate. You noticed him ghosting his gloved hands over your arms as you worked around the ship, how he would put his hand gently on your lower back to guide you when you were both in the market for supplies, but especially in the way he called you mesh’la. You didn’t know how to speak Mando’a and Din never told you what the word meant, but even the modulator in his helmet couldn’t mask the fondness in his voice as he said the word.

One night, the three of you were traveling on your ship to get parts you needed to fix the Crest. The dealer was clear across the galaxy though, so you were all in for a long trip. After getting Grogu to sleep and closing the door that held the bunks, you took a quick turn in the refresher.

You came out with a towel wrapped around your body, having forgotten to grab your night clothes before heading in, but didn’t get too far before you felt supple leather caressing your skin as the towel was gently taken off of your body. The chill in the air made the hair on your arms stand on edge, and your nipples began to pebble, not only because of the cold, but because Din’s fingers were instantly on them the second they were revealed to him.

A deep sigh left your chest as he began toying with your chest and a lazy smile made its way onto your lips as he began his ministrations. Because of the Creed, Din couldn’t take off his helmet around you, so you had never felt the pleasures of his mouth either for a simple kiss or more, further down your body. He learned how to get you riled up with his hands alone though. A few gentle caresses over your thighs, a gentle tweak of your nipples, and then a surprisingly light and sensual hand around your throat had your center begging to be filled in only the way he could.

As your hands began making their way to the belt of his flight pants, Din began leading you to the front of the ship where you had a bay window that revealed the beautiful majesty of space flying past the ship. You gasped and arched your back as it hit the cold glass, and that gasp turned into a moan as Din slipped two now ungloved fingers into your core with ease. The smirk in his voice was audible as he commented, “Someone’s excited.”

“I have you giving me pleasure, of course I am,” you breathed, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you began pushing at the waistband of his flight pants.

Before either of you knew it, Din had you hiked up and held against the window as his powerful hips thrusted into you, the angle something completely different and unfamiliar to you. It had your head rolling back and your jaw falling open in pleasure and your chest heaved as you let out sinful sighs and moans. As the blue and white lights of hyperspace flickered over your body, Din was suddenly filled with a feeling he had been fighting off since he met you and you began traveling together. Love.

Without a second thought crossing his mind, Din whispered, “Keep your eyes closed.”

“D-Din, what-?” you began to ask as he slowed down to a stop, keeping you pinned against the glass as you clung to his body.

“Please. Just trust me,” he said.

You nodded and kept your eyes closed as the sound of his helmet disengaging filled your ears. A quiet gasp left your lips before you asked, “Din, did you just…? The Creed-”

“Keep your eyes shut and you won’t have seen my face,” he said quietly, his true voice filling your ears. It was beautiful. Rich and sweet like a warm breeze washing over you. The words he said next hit you square in the chest and for a few moments you were lost for words. “Mesh’la. Beautiful. I love you,” he said in a breathless whisper before your lips were met with the gentlest of kisses.

“I love you too,” you whispered against his surprisingly soft lips before deepening the kiss just a bit to test the waters.

You were met with enthusiasm as Din kissed you back with fervor, finally starting to rock his hips into yours once more. When he did, you loosed a moan into his mouth as the added pleasure of kissing him completely heightened the pleasure he was giving you. “Osi’kyr! You feel so good,” he grunted out, his hand gripping tighter on your ass as he pounded into you.

Any words you had to say in reply died on your tongue as Din switched from kissing your lips to your neck in a sloppy, open mouthed manner. The sensitive area getting attention was stimulating enough and had the coil in your core starting to tighten, but you began barrelling toward your high when Din latched onto your neck and sucked, surely with the intent of leaving a mark in his wake. He wanted to leave love bites all over you. They were something that would mark you as his. He wanted to be able to see the evidence of your intimacy throughout the week. For others to know that you were taken.

He got so carried away in his mission to mark your neck, and only realized that you had hit your peak when the vibrations of a loud moan and a shout of his name were on his lips. The feeling of your core pulsing around him combined with the beautiful sounds, now unfiltered by his helmet got Din impossibly closer to his own high as you desperately coaxed his lips back up to yours so you could kiss him again. Your wanton moans on his lips drove him to his climax, and with a deep sigh, he filled you up, the pleasure sparking through his body unlike anything he had ever felt before.

After a few moments of keeping you pressed up against the cool glass, Din lowered you down gently, your unsteady feet hitting the floor with a quiet thud. He began reaching for his helmet to don once again, but as if you could sense him doing so, you pulled him into another kiss before resting your forehead on his as you told him, “It can wait. I’ll keep my eyes closed. I just wanna kiss you. Please.”

And so he did. For hours, the two of you got lost in each other's lips. By the end of the night, you had been marked on practically every intimate area Din could reach, and you both learned how talented he was with his tongue. For that night, you kept your eyes closed, but soon after, you had found a suitable covering that Din approved of that you could wear when the two of you got intimate. You both had become addicted to the taste of one another, and you were way too far in love with Din Djarin to never kiss him again.

a/n: this turned out a lot fluffier than i intended, but you know what? it's kinda sorta very adorable! the words just kinda flowed out, but like...the hand on her lower back at the market?? i want it to be me! 🥰😭 i also didn't originally plan the love confession, but that just kinda came out too, whoopsie.

ps: yes, nearly half of this was plot, but to me, Din smut has to have some sort of plot leading up to it. i simply could not write it without a little background as to how we got here!

anyways! likes and comments are appreciated as always! xo, brooke <3

#tuna tober prompt challenge 2024 #tuna tober 2024 #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian #star wars

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