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speaknow-sw · 5 months ago

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉

Summary : When your Master comes back from mission, ready to scream his emotions, or make you scream them.

Word Count : 4.2k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: Master/Padawan relationship, love confession, worshipping, PiV, size kink, breeding kink, mating press, missionary, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, big cock, bigger Anakin, slight degradation.

A/N : a happy belated birthday to @anisangeldust my wife <3 I love you and here’s your birthday gift : 4.2k of pure smut with a 6’8, 220lbs Anakin Skywalker. This work is kinda poetic cuz I’m a poet…

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉

Anakin Skywalker stood at the doorframe of your room, the twin suns of Tatooine's memory searing his vision even here, light-years away. The years had sculpted him — 6’8, 220 pounds of wiry strength and coiled power, his frame cast in sharp shadows beneath his Jedi robes. His muscles were taut beneath the fabric, but they weren’t the reason he felt like his skin might burst into flame.

It was you.

You were standing a few meters away, barely reaching his chest, your delicate frame lost among the gigantic room. His “Padawan,” the one he told himself was just that. The one he had been so careful to hide his obsession for. So careful to control his gaze, to smother his hunger behind careful smiles and glances he hoped were subtle. But the Force wasn’t subtle in the way it surged around you. It crackled in his bones every time you spoke, every time you laughed.

And today, he was done pretending.

Your head turned, and you spotted him. A smile bloomed on your lips — unguarded, bright. His pulse hammered.

His jaw clenched, and he strode toward you, closing the distance with long, deliberate steps. Each one felt like a step off a cliff, a plunge into gravity he couldn’t resist anymore. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, curiosity flickering in your eyes.

He stopped just inches away, towering over you, the heat of his body palpable. He couldn’t stop the way his fingers curled, aching to touch you. His voice, low and rough, broke the silence.

“Tell me I’m not imagining this.”

“Master,” You smiled brightly.

His heart clenched at the word, sweet and devastating in your mouth. Master. The title was a barrier between them, a wall he had built brick by brick, day by day, to keep you safe. To keep himself sane. But now, hearing it fall from your lips, it felt like a mockery. A cruel joke played by the Force itself.

"Don't call me that," he growled, the words torn from his throat. His hand shot out, fingers curling around your jaw, tilting your face up towards his. Your skin was soft, impossibly delicate beneath his calloused palm. He could feel the rapid flutter of your pulse, matching the frantic pounding of his own heart.

His gaze dropped to your lips, full and pink and tempting beyond belief. He leaned in, breath ghosting over your skin. "Call me Anakin," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Or nothing at all."

The air between them was electric, charged with tension and desire. He could feel the Force pulsing around you, drawing him closer, taunting him with the forbidden fruit of your body. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, tracing the soft curve, and he swallowed hard.

"I've tried to resist this," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "Tried to tell myself it was wrong. But I can't anymore. Not when you look at me like that."

His free hand slid down your back, spanning the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against him. He could feel every inch of you, soft and yielding against his hard planes. His hips pressed forward, grinding against you, and a low groan escaped his throat.

"Tell me you want this," he whispered, his lips brushing yours with every word. "Tell me you want me."

“M-Master…I…I—” You blushed furiously. To your utter surprise, he kneeled in front of you, and even in this position, he was taller than you.

His knees hit the floor with a soft thud, the impact jarring through his joints, his legs folding like a supplicant before an altar. Even kneeling, he was still eye level with you, his face mere inches from your trembling form. The position was unfamiliar, humbling, a stark contrast to the power he wielded. But it felt right, somehow. Necessary.

His hands found your hips, large and warm, spanning the delicate bones. He could feel the heat of your skin through the thin fabric of your clothes, the way your body trembled beneath his touch. His thumbs rubbed slow circles, soothing, coaxing.

"Shh," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "There's no need to be afraid. I won't hurt you."

His gaze locked with yours, intense and searching. He could see the confusion, the uncertainty swirling in the depths of your eyes. He understood. This was new, uncharted territory. For both of them.

Slowly, deliberately, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your stomach. The movement forced you to look down at him, your hair falling forward in a silky curtain. He breathed in deeply, the scent of you filling his lungs, his senses. Sweet and intoxicating, like the spices of a thousand worlds.

One hand slid up your back, fingers tangling in your hair, tugging gently until your head tipped back, exposing the elegant line of your neck. His lips brushed the sensitive skin just below your ear, a feather-light touch that sent shivers racing down your spine.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and damp. "Tell me how to please you."

His other hand slid lower, cupping your ass, pulling you harder against him. He could feel the heat of your core, even through the layers of clothing separating them. It took all his willpower not to rip them away, to bare you to his hungry gaze.

But this wasn't about him. It was about you. About giving you what you needed, what you craved. Even if it killed him.

He was only a man after, a man made to worship, a god…or a woman. You nodded « T-the bed, Master » You stammered, blushing under his heated gaze. Nobody ever looked at you with such reverence —with such devotion.

A single word, a command whispered from your lips, and he obeyed without hesitation. His hands slid from your body, leaving you feeling bereft, cold. But the loss was brief, replaced by the heat of his presence as he rose to his feet, his tall frame towering over you once more.

In one fluid motion, he scooped you into his arms, cradling you against his chest like a precious treasure. Your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his neck, your face buried in the warmth of his skin. He could feel the rapid flutter of your pulse, the way your breath hitched with each step he took towards the bed.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he lowered himself onto it, settling back against the pillows with you still clutched tightly in his arms. His hand slid up your spine, tracing the delicate curve of your back, the dip of your waist.

"Is this what you want?" he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "To be worshipped? To be adored?"

His other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, burning with a hunger that took your breath away. A hunger that mirrored your own.

Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips hovering a hairsbreadth from yours. "Tell me," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Tell me what you need. What you crave."

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, and you couldn't help but follow the movement, your own tongue peeking out to moisten your dry mouth. The air between you was electric, charged with tension and desire.

One hand slid down your side, skimming over your hip, your thigh, before settling on your knee. He pushed your leg up, opening you to him, his fingers trailing fire in their wake.

"I want to hear you say it," he growled, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "I want to hear you beg for it."

His hand slid higher, bunching the fabric of your skirt, pushing it up and up until cool air kissed your heated flesh. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “P-please…Master…I need you.” You whimpered, his words like poetry in your ears.

His breath caught in his throat, your plea echoing through his mind like a prayer. The words he had longed to hear, the admission he had craved. He could feel the force of his desire, a living thing pulsing between them, urging him to claim you, to make you his.

But he held back, restraint a fragile thread, fraying with each passing second. He wanted to savor this moment, to memorize every breath, every sigh, every shudder of your body.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice rough with awe. "So beautiful. So perfect."

His hand slid higher, fingers brushing against the damp heat of your core. You gasped, your hips bucking into his touch, seeking more. He obliged, his thumb circling your clit with maddening slowness, teasing, tormenting.

"You're so wet for me," he growled, his lips trailing down your neck, nipping, sucking, marking you as his own. "So ready for me."

His big fingers dipped lower, sliding through your slick folds, teasing your entrance. You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body arching into his touch.

"Please," you gasped, your hips rocking against his hand. "Please, Master. I need you inside me."

The words were his undoing. With a low growl, he surged forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you. His long fingers pushed inside you, stroking, stretching, preparing you for his cock as you moaned from the large intrusion.

He broke the kiss, panting, his eyes wild and hungry. "I'm going to fuck you now," he rasped, his voice raw with need. "I'm going to make you mine."

His obsession consumed him, a raging inferno that scorched his every thought. His cock throbbed, heavy and hard, aching to bury itself deep inside your welcoming heat. But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted everything.

"I'm going to fill you up," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "I'm going to pump you full of my seed until your belly swells with my babies."

His fingers plunged deeper, curling against your inner walls, stroking that sensitive spot that made you see stars. "Imagine it," he purred, his lips brushing your ear. "Your body round and ripe with my children. Your tits heavy and full, leaking milk for our young."

He could picture it, the image seared into his mind. You, glowing with life, your skin stretched taut over the evidence of his possession. His cock twitched at the thought, pre-cum beading at the tip.

"I'll keep you barefoot and pregnant," he promised, his voice a dark rumble. "My personal breeding mare, ready and willing to take my cock whenever I please."

His thumb rubbed circles around your clit, the pressure just right, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. "Say you want it," he demanded, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Say you want to be bred like a bitch in heat."

Anakin’s eyes darkened with possessive hunger as he gazed down at your petite form, his cock throbbing with the need to claim you, to make you his. But even in his lust-fueled haze, he recognized the challenge before him. Your tight, untouched pussy would require patience, care, and plenty of preparation before it could accommodate his massive member.

"Such a tiny little hole," he rumbled, his fingers exploring your slick folds, stroking and teasing. "So small and tight. Made just for me."

He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting your essence, savoring the sweetness of your arousal. "But don't worry, my sweet. I'll stretch you out. I'll make you take every inch of my cock."

His thumb found your clit, rubbing firm circles, coaxing your body to open for him. His other hand slid down to cup your ass, kneading the supple flesh, holding you steady as he worked you open.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice low and soothing. "Relax for me. Let me in."

Slowly, carefully, he began to work a finger inside you, the digit sinking into your tight heat. You gasped, your walls clenching around the intrusion, trying to push it out. But he was patient, gentle, stroking and massaging until you began to relax, your body accepting his touch.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice rough with approval. "Such a good little cock sleeve, taking my finger so well."

He pumped his finger in and out, twisting and curling, seeking that special spot deep inside you. When he found it, your back arched off the bed, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips.

"That's it," he growled, his own breathing growing ragged. "Take it. Take everything I give you."

He added a second finger, then a third, stretching you wider, preparing you for the inevitability of his cock. All the while, his thumb continued its relentless assault on your clit, pushing you higher, closer to the edge.

The sight of your tears, glistening like diamonds on your flushed cheeks, only fueled his desire. Your nails scrabbled at his scalp, your body writhing beneath him as he worked his fingers deeper, stretching you wider, preparing you for his massive cock.

"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Take it all. Take every inch."

His hand twisted, his fingers curling and scissoring, opening you up, making room for his girth. You sobbed, your back bowing off the bed, your walls clenching around his invading digits.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his own hips rocking forward, his cock sliding along your thigh, leaving a trail of pre-cum in its wake. "Such a perfect little hole, made just for me."

Anakin could feel your body yielding to his touch, your muscles relaxing, accepting his invasion. Slowly, carefully, he began to pump his fist in and out, fucking you with his hand, stretching you, readying you for the real thing.

Your cries filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain, your nails raking down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. He reveled in it, in the knowledge that he was the one causing you such exquisite torment, the one bringing you such intense pleasure.

"Almost there," he panted, his own body trembling with the effort of holding back, of not ramming his cock into your prepared hole and fucking you until you screamed. "Almost ready for my cock."

He added a fourth finger, then a fifth, his hand disappearing into your heat, his knuckles brushing against your entrance. You keened, your eyes rolling back, your body shaking with the force of your impending orgasm.

"Come for me," he commanded, his thumb pressing hard against your clit. "Come on my hand like a good little slut."

And you did, your body convulsing, your walls clamping down around his fingers, milking them, greedy for more. He worked you through it, his hand never stopping its relentless movement, prolonging your pleasure, pushing you to new heights.

The sight of you coming undone, your face contorted in ecstasy, your body shaking with the force of your release, nearly undid him. His hips bucked wildly, grinding against the sheets, his cock throbbing, aching for relief. But he held back, his jaw clenched, his muscles rigid with the effort of not spilling his seed too soon.

"Fuck," he groaned, his voice strained. "You're so fucking hot when you come."

He withdrew his hand slowly, watching as your hole fluttered, clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. A fresh surge of lust crashed over him, and he had to take a moment to regain his composure, to rein in his desire before he lost all control.

When he finally raised his head, his eyes were wild, his pupils blown wide with need. He crawled up your body, his lips and teeth and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He captured your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries, tasting your pleasure on your tongue.

The sheer size of Anakin was overwhelming, a testament to his virility, his power. His cock jutted from his body, thick and heavy, the veins pulsing beneath the smooth skin. The head was an angry purple, leaking copious amounts of pre-cum, glistening in the dim light of the room.

He positioned himself between your legs, the broad head of his cock nudging against your entrance. You could feel the heat of him, the hardness, the raw masculinity that emanated from his very being.

"Look at it," he growled, his voice rough with lust. "Look at how big it is. How it's stretching you out, making you mine."

He pressed forward, the head of his cock popping past your entrance, stretching you wider than you ever thought possible. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body resisting the intrusion.

"Shh," he soothed, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your lips. "Relax. Let it in. Let it claim you."

He pushed further, inch by agonizing inch, his thick shaft splitting you open, filling you in a way you'd never been filled before. You could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing pulse of his cock as it slid deeper, deeper, until it couldn’t.

You mewled and clawed at his back “Too much…too m-much Ani…” You couldn’t take all his cock and it bruised your insides.

His heart clenched at the sound of your distress, at the pain in your voice. He knew he was big, knew that taking all of him would be a challenge, even with the extensive preparation. But he had gotten carried away in his lust, in his need to claim you, to make you his.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse with regret. "I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He pulled back slowly, his cock slipping out of your abused hole, leaving you feeling empty, aching. He gathered you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, his hand stroking soothing patterns on your back.

"Shh," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, your lips. "It's okay. We'll take it slow. We'll do this right."

"That's it," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. "Just breathe, my love. You're doing so well."

His hips rocked forward, inch by inch, his massive cock slowly sinking into your tight heat. He watched your face intently, gauging your reactions, ready to stop at the first sign of discomfort.

"Fuck," he grunted, his eyes rolling back as your walls gripped him like a velvet vice. "You feel incredible. So tight, so perfect."

He paused when he reached the barrier of your cervix, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing slow, steady circles, coaxing your pleasure.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble. "Let yourself feel good. Let yourself enjoy it."

He began to move then, shallow thrusts that gradually increased in depth and intensity. Each slide of his cock sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, building, intensifying, until you were writhing beneath him, your nails digging into his back.

Anakin’s sheer size was overwhelming, his large, muscular body blanketing yours, pinning you to the bed. His arms, thick with corded muscle, caged you in, his hands splayed on either side of your head, his fingers curling into the sheets. You felt small, delicate, completely at his mercy.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "All mine. My perfect little mate."

His hips snapped forward, driving his cock deeper, harder, faster. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, your walls clenching around him, greedy for more.

"Feel that," he panted, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed on your lower belly where the shape of his gigantic cock was bulging. "Feel how deep I am. How I'm stretching you out, claiming you."

His body covered yours completely, his broad chest pressing against your breasts, his hard abs grinding against your soft stomach. You could feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin, the power in his muscles.

His movements became more urgent, more primal, as he shifted your legs up and over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half. The new angle allowed him to penetrate you even deeper, his cock ramming against your cervix with each powerful thrust.

"Fuck," he grunted, his eyes wild, his face contorted with pleasure. "You're so fucking tight. So perfect."

His hands slid under your thighs, gripping your hips, pulling you onto his cock with each snap of his hips. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts.

"Take it," he growled, his voice a low, menacing snarl. "Take my cock. Take everything I have to give you."

He pounded into you relentlessly, his balls slapping against your ass, his cock stretching you to the limit. You could do nothing but hold on, your hands clutching at his arms, your nails digging into his skin.

The sound of the bed frame cracking, the mattress sagging beneath your combined weight, only fueled his lust, his desire to claim you, to mark you as his. His hips pistoned forward, his cock slamming into you with brutal force, the head battering against your cervix with each thrust.

"Yes," he snarled, his eyes wild, his face contorted with pleasure. "Fuck yes. Mark me. Leave your claim on my skin."

He could feel your nails raking down his back, your legs kicking weakly at his sides as he held you in place, impaling you on his massive cock. The pain of your nails, the sting of your skin breaking, only served to heighten his pleasure, his need to dominate, to conquer, to own the woman he loved so fully. He wanted to consume you, nest in the crevices of your heart.

“Anakin…An-Anakin…Ani…” You moaned helplessly as he worshipped you like a goddess. You couldn’t even think about anything else, only him, only your Anakin.

His name never beheld such beauty before you had moaned it. Between the curves of your lips his name was given meaning at last. His soul was starved in want of your own and he knew that within the cathedral of your ribs laid his beating heart.

His hips snapped forward, driving into you with renewed vigor. The bed creaked and groaned beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your body tightening, climbing towards its peak.

"Come for me," he demanded, his hand sliding between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. "Come on my cock. Let me feel you."

He rubbed firm circles, his touch unrelenting, pushing you closer to the edge. Your moans grew louder, more frantic, your body shaking beneath him.

"That's it," he panted, his own release building, his balls drawing up tight. "Let go. Let go and come for me."

The feeling of your walls clamping down on his cock, rippling and squeezing, was his undoing. With a roar of completion, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing, his seed jetting forth in thick, hot spurts. He filled you, claimed you, marked you from the inside out.

"Fuck," he grunted, his hips jerking, his body shuddering with the force of his release. "Fuck yes. Take it all."

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his cock still buried deep inside you. You could feel his heart pounding, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

"That was..." he began, his voice rough, hoarse. "That was incredible."

He rolled to the side, pulling you with him, cradling you against his chest. His hand stroked your hair, your face, your body, soothing, comforting.

"You're amazing," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "So perfect. So beautiful."

He held you close, savoring the feel of your naked body against his, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair. In that moment, he felt complete, whole, as if a piece of himself that had been missing had finally clicked into place.

“Anakin —Master, you’re heavy.” You whined, squirming under him.

He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you with a tender smile. "What is it, my love?" he asked, his voice soft, concerned.

He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your body trembled slightly beneath him. The realization of his weight upon you hit him like a physical blow, and he quickly rolled off, gathering you into his arms instead.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "I didn't mean to crush you. Are you alright?"

His hands roamed over your body, checking for any signs of distress, any indication that he had hurt you. But aside from a few faint bruises and the telltale ache between your legs, you seemed unharmed.

"Rest now," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you."

He settled back against the pillows, pulling you close, your head resting on his chest. He could feel your breaths evening out, your body relaxing into his embrace. And as you drifted off to sleep, he held you tight, his own eyes drifting closed, a contented smile playing on his lips.

Tags ; @qalijahbydior , @anystalker707 , @the-gray-maiden , @anakinca , @cloverina , @dazednstars141 , @valyna27 , @theoriginalsinner28

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin smut #evie writes

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evie-sturns · 1 year ago

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Intersection - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after not driving for a few months, you accidentally rear end matts car at an intersection.

contains: crying, swearing, comforting, angry!matt.

-------------└── •✧• ──┘--------------

i haven't drove in the past 6 months that i've been away in Florida, but now i'm back in Boston im slowly starting to get back into it.

8:37pm

i flick my left indicator, swinging round the corner as frank ocean blares through my small white car.

the road is slippery due to the weather recently, the small puddles on the concrete shining from the illuminating street lights above.

i hum to the song as i accelerate, pressing my foot harder on the small pedal as i keep a reasonable distance between the grey van in front.

i check my wing mirrors, there's no cars behind me so i speed up, closing the distance between me and the car ahead.

theres an upcoming intersection, the traffic light is green, i look down at my cupholder for a split second, my bottle of water splashing up out of the bottle with every rock i drive over, "shit.." i mutter, reaching a hand down and fiddling with the cap.

i gasp as i look up, the light is red and the car which is 3 feet in front of me has come to a complete halt.

my heart drops as my mind goes blank.

"oh my god." i shout as the front of my car smashes into this grey van.

i sit in silence for a few seconds, the van drives to the side of the empty road, i follow and park behind, my heart thumps as i drive in total shock,

i've never been in a car accident, not even close.

i instantly start to freak out, how could i not in this situation. i turn off my car, stepping out and wiping my face with my sleeve as i take in panicked breaths.

the door of the other car swings open, a man steps out, he's wearing cargo jeans, a grey crewneck and an assortment of jewellery.

i've definitely seen him on tiktok before..?

i walk over to him, "i'm so fucking sorry my insurance will pay for everything" i ramble, the brunette replies "i know."

his voice is stern, he's definitely mad. i bite my nails as my leg shakes on the spot.

"how the fuck do you not brake? you were a solid 5 meters behind me and yet your car rams the back of mine? are you fucking stupid?" the boy says, staring into my eyes.

"my water spilt and i thought the light was going to stay green, i'm so sorry." i say back, my voice shaking as i start to cry.

he stays silent for a few seconds, scanning my face which is now flushed everywhere with a couple of tears falling from my eyes.

"stop, just give me your insurance details and number" he sighs,

after giving him my number and insurance details i start again, "ill call you an uber, im really sorry." i say, pulling out my phone and attempting to turn it on, soon realising it ran out of battery an hour ago.

"dont worry about it, my cars driveable." he says, i nod. the whole front of my car is squashed, including the engine.

"you got a way home?" the boy asks,

"i mean uh- no but i can just walk." i say with a small sniff,

"come on, ill drive ya." the brunette says, taking my hand and walking me towards his van, the back of it has a medium sized indent, nothing too major though.

"you don't have to i swear its not a far walk" i protest, "i'm not gonna let you walk, honestly its okay." he says, climbing into the drivers side.

i get into the passengers side, he pulls out his phone "i'm gonna call someone to tow your car okay?" he says, his voice soft.

"yeah- okay." i reply.

i've found out this boys name is matt, i knew it was something like that, we're now pulling into my street after apologising thousands of times. aside from the whole 'ramming his car' we clicked well together.

i point out my house, matt jumps out first to let me out of his van, "are you okay now?" he asks with a small laugh, "yeah- i think." i reply with a guilty expression plastered on my face.

"can i have a smile?" he asks, i force a pathetic smile and matt nods.

"ill text you tomorrow, we should see each other sometime?" he asks nervously,

did he just ask me out?

"yes! yeah i'd like that." i say,

matt leans down, giving me a hug,

"i'm sorry for making you cry."

"what? no! i'm sorry for rear-ending your car!" i reply, pulling away from the hug and giving him a warm smile.

----

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine

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blackcat-star · 2 months ago

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Lost Spirit.

Sung Jinwoo x Ghost!reader.

✭ Chapter 1: First meet.

___________________

Jinwoo sat leaning against the old tree in the deserted park. It was pitch black. People had already gone to bed after working all day since most homes had their lights turned off.

The only light came from the street lamps' yellow glow and the faint moonlight.

Why did Jinwoo show up here during this late time?

He had just finished a dungeon raid that the system had assigned him. He didn't want to go out at such a late hour, but he needed to get stronger, he needed to earn money to live, he needed to seize every opportunity he could find. It was all for money. He had a mother and a younger sister to take care of.

Ever since his father disappeared, everything had been disrupted. He had suddenly become the pillar of the family.

Jinwoo sighed. He hid his face by placing his hands over his head. He had many wounds on his hands with bandages covering them and bleeding from several areas. But he didn't seem to care about it anymore. In a while, he would receive the system's reward, and then his body would be healed as before.

He should probably go home. But for some reason, he didn't want to go home today. It was strange.

He had been walking unconsciously on the dark road, and then stopped at a park near the edge of the city.

There was a feeling of something stuck in his chest that made him uncomfortable. He punched the tree to release it and then lay down on the park bench., one hand raised to cover his eyes.

A gentle wind blew by, the leaves rustled. Everything was so quiet.

"So rude, didn't your mom tell you that waking a person up is rude!?" A voice suddenly rang out above his head.

Jinwoo immediately sat up, warily looking towards the direction the voice came from.

On the branch of an ancient tree, a person was sitting on the tree, both hands holding onto the branch, legs swinging.

That person was transparent, his figure was as faint as smoke, his eyes were curious, but for some reason he felt sadness in their eyes.

"Who are you!?" He asked cautiously.

Your eyes widened, looking around and then back at him, pointing at yourselves.

"Are you asking me?"

"Other than you and me, who else is here?"

You were even more surprised. "You saw me!?"

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes in suspicion "Of course...? Why can't I see you? I'm not blind."

Your eyes sparkled "Finally someone can see me!" You clapped your hands "Wonderful, I've been so lonely! Finally someone can see me!"

"Wait! What do you mean?"

You flew down and stood next to where he was sitting. "Don't you recognize me? I'm not human anymore."

"Does that mean you're dead?"

"Something like that. I prefer not to express myself in this manner. The way I describe my experience is that I changed from being seen to being unseen."

Jinwoo's face was blank.

His instincts told him that this was not a dangerous creature, but his mind was still tense.

He summoned his dagger and pointed it at you.

"Tell me, who are you!? What is your purpose? Or what do you want from me!"

"Hey, rude. I haven't done anything to you yet." You pouted. "You came to disturb my sleep first!"

"What?"

"You suddenly punched the tree, it woke me up!"

He slowly lowered the dagger. "I apologize for my mistake."

"Since you were the first to discover me, I'll forgive you." You took a seat next to Jinwoo but he shifted away from you.

You ask "Why you stay away from me. I didn't do anything to you."

"I don't believe you."

"What!? I'm 100% harmless."

You became irritated when Jinwoo showed his disbelief.

"If we become friends you will put more trust in me."

Jinwoo stared at the ground while moving to a greater distance from you.

"I do not want to make friends with spirits."

You whined, "Please, I'm lonely. I have been alone for many days now."

You ask him to please become friends since you feel lonely.

"Why don't you go find someone else!"

"I want to too. But I don't understand why I can't get more than 1 meter away from this tree."

A trapped soul? Jinwoo rarely believed in ghosts, but after the dungeons appeared, the world began to act abnormally. Especially situations like this that couldn't be explained by common sense.

"I can't leave this place," You continued, your voice as light as the wind, your eyes suddenly darkening. "No matter how hard I try, I just end up back at this tree."

Jinwoo frowned. Why? He was curious about this.

He suddenly thought, if he was the only one who could see you, maybe fate had arranged this and wanted him to do something.

"...What can I help you?"

You were silent for a long time, then whispered softly. "I want to know why I died... I don't remember why I'm here. I just know that I'm dead."

You suddenly looked straight into his eyes, your gaze sincere "Can you help me find clues about them?"

Jinwoo hesitated for a moment then nodded. "Okay.."

You smiled happily. The wind blew your hair, the moonlight reflected on your cheeks, making your face seem to glow, your smile also became brighter and purer. For a moment, that smile made Jinwoo let go of all his guard, relaxing his shoulders.

"I'm Y/n. Just Y/n. I don't remember my last name, or who I was before. I only remember this name, I think it's my name. Nice to meet you!"

"...Sung Jinwoo."

________________________

To be continue....

_________________________

Chapter 2 »

#sung jinwoo #jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo x y/n #sung jinwoo x you #solo leveling x reader

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rose24207 · 2 months ago

Text

no wall is strong enough to keep us apart

Summary: A family torn apart by the Berlin Wall reunites in an emotional embrace the night it falls, proving that love endures even the strongest barriers.

'89s!Dad!Lando x '89s!Mum!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, historical

TW: mention of DDR, Stasi, Berlin wall, propaganda, separation, timeline is not chronological correct for the sake of the story, I know the wall has been up 28 years!

A/N: Yes I know it’s completely different from what I normally post but I really like the topic and the stories behind the families and friends that were separated back then! Let me know if you want more of historical events - btw I’m listening to Pink Floyd rn.

Navigation

Berlin, 1959

The air smelled of fresh bread and strong coffee as the bustling streets of Berlin came alive in the early morning sun. You weaved through the crowd, your fingers laced with Lando’s as your little daughter, Emma, skipped ahead, her blonde curls bouncing.

“Slow down, liebe,” (love) you called after her, but she only giggled, twirling in her little dress.

Lando laughed, pulling you closer. “She’s got your energy.”

“She’s got your stubbornness.”

“And your smile.”

Life was simple, full of love. The three of you lived in a small apartment in Mitte, not far from Alexanderplatz. Lando worked as a mechanic, saving up to open his own shop, while you worked part-time at a bakery. You didn’t have much, but you had enough.

West Berlin was only a tram ride away. You’d sometimes take Emma to see the grand department stores on Kurfürstendamm, or visit family in Charlottenburg. There were no checkpoints, no barbed wire—only a city still healing from the war, divided but still connected.

You never imagined that in just two years, everything would change.

August 12-13, 1961

The night was humid, the air heavy with something unspoken. You stood by the window, unable to sleep, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. Lando was in West Berlin, fixing a car for a client. He was supposed to come home tomorrow.

But then—

A knock at the door.

Your neighbor, Frau Keller, stood there, her face pale. “Turn on the radio.”

Confused, you hurried to the small wooden set in the corner. As the static cleared, a voice crackled through:

"Starting at midnight, the borders between East and West Berlin will be sealed off indefinitely. All crossings will be closed. A new security measure to protect the people of the DDR from imperialist threats."

Your heart stopped.

“No,” you whispered. “No, no—”

You ran outside, past confused neighbors, past uniformed officers already unrolling barbed wire. In the distance, at the Brandenburg Gate, soldiers hammered wooden posts into the ground.

The wall was already being built.

Your stomach dropped.

Lando.

Morning came, and with it, devastation.

A crude barrier of barbed wire and armed guards now split the city in two. Families screamed across the divide, reaching for loved ones they could no longer touch. Desperate people jumped from windows in border buildings, trying to land in West Berlin before they were sealed in. Some made it. Others did not.

You stood among the crowd, Emma clutching your waist, sobbing.

You spotted him—Lando.

On the other side.

“Lando!” You screamed, your voice drowned by the chaos.

His head snapped up. His blue eyes met yours, wide with horror. He tried to run forward, but soldiers blocked him, rifles raised.

“Bitte!” (please!) he shouted. “Meine Frau! Mein Kind!” (my wife! My child!)

“Step back!” a soldier barked.

Lando’s fists clenched. His face twisted in anguish as he reached toward you, separated only by meters—but it might as well have been a world away.

Emma wailed. “Papa!”

Lando pressed his hand against the barbed wire, his knuckles white. “I’ll find a way! I promise!”

Then—

A soldier raised his gun.

“MOVE BACK!”

Your scream died in your throat. Lando’s face twisted with helpless rage, but he stepped back, his hands trembling.

The last thing you saw before being forced away was his eyes, burning with a promise neither of you knew if he could keep.

And just like that, your family was torn in half.

The months that followed were a blur of despair. Overnight, the DDR had become a prison. The border was reinforced—first with more barbed wire, then concrete. Guard towers rose along its length, manned by soldiers under orders to shoot anyone who tried to escape.

Friends and family disappeared. Some fled in hidden tunnels, others were caught and sent to Stasi prisons. Fear seeped into every corner of life.

Emma stopped asking about Lando. Not because she didn’t miss him—but because it hurt too much.

One night, as you listened to a smuggled West German broadcast in secret, you heard his name.

"A man attempted to swim across the Spree River today in an effort to reunite with his family in East Berlin. He was spotted by DDR border guards and forced to retreat before he could reach land. Sources confirm his name as Lando Norris."

Your hands trembled. He was trying. He hadn’t given up.

But the wall still stood.

And so did the distance between you.

In the Night of November 9, 1989

For years, the wall had been unbreakable. But tonight, the whispers began.

You sat by the radio, Emma—now seventeen—beside you. Your hands gripped hers as the news played.

"A government official has announced that, effective immediately, citizens of the DDR will be allowed to cross freely into West Berlin."

The words hit like lightning.

Emma shot to her feet. “Mama—”

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed her hand and ran.

The streets were chaos—thousands of people surging toward the border, tears streaming down faces, disbelief mixing with hope. Some shouted in joy, others in fear.

You reached the Bornholmer Straße checkpoint, breathless. Soldiers stood rigid, gripping their weapons, unsure whether to enforce the wall or let history decide its fate.

Then—one man stepped forward.

Then another.

And suddenly—

The guards stepped back.

The gates opened.

The crowd surged forward.

Emma yanked your hand. “Mama, we have to find him!”

You pushed through the sea of bodies, your heart hammering, your breath ragged. People embraced, wept, screamed with joy.

And then—

There.

Lando.

Standing at the barrier, his face frozen in shock.

For a moment, the world stood still.

Then you ran.

Your feet barely touched the ground before you crashed into him, your arms locking around his neck. He held you so tightly it hurt, his chest heaving with sobs against yours.

“Mein Gott,” (my god) he choked out. “It’s real. You’re real.”

Tears blurred your vision as you pulled back, your fingers trembling against his face. “I never stopped waiting.”

Emma stood a few feet away, her lips parted, her entire body shaking.

Lando turned, his breath catching as he saw her properly for the first time in years.

“My baby,” he whispered.

Emma exhaled a broken sob before throwing herself into his arms. Lando held her, his hands buried in her hair, rocking her like she was still the little girl he’d lost.

“I missed everything,” he whispered. “I missed everything.”

She clung to him. “But you’re here now.”

The three of you held each other, shaking, crying, whole again for the first time in years.

Around you, the wall crumbled—not just in stone, but in the hearts of the people who had been divided for too long.

And after all these years, Berlin was finally one again.

Just like your family.

One Year Later

The remnants of the Berlin Wall stood in pieces, now just another relic of the past.

Lando’s hands ran over the rough surface, his fingers brushing against the graffiti left by those who had longed for freedom.

Beside him, Emma held his other hand, her eyes bright. “I think you should take a piece.”

Lando smiled, chipping off a small fragment and tucking it into his pocket.

You leaned into him, inhaling the crisp autumn air. “What will you do with it?”

He turned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Keep it. To remind me that no wall is strong enough to keep us apart.”

And for the first time in decades, you believed it.

Because the wall had fallen.

And love had won.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom, @ernegren, @esposamultifandom, @darleneslane

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raindailies · 2 months ago

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❝ — FATA VIAM INVENIENT ❞

𓏵 ( the fates will find a way )

८ sypnosis. the blasphemous scholar, in opposed to the priest of the titans — hadn't you two made it clear that you loathed one another? If so, just why is the Fates so keen on entwining the intricate threads of you in conjunction? Anaxa swears, the Fates really don't play nice. ( anaxa x gn!reader) - wc: 1.9k

@ warnings; angst if u squint .. not much though!! Slight mentions of blood and canon-typical violence, generally, mainly crack? Just exploring anaxa's character & tropes with this one.. ᝰ.ᐟ

── notes. just kind of rivals to lovers-ish but in the sense of like 'hatred is an easier word than love', basically: two idiots refusing to entangle with one another yet find themselves always in that position. I wrote this to try and experiment with Anaxa's character cause he's definitely the hardest one to write. I hate this but i need to get SOMETHING out for anaxa (ᴗ_ᴗ)

You hated ANAXAGORAS, no – even hate was a bleak word to express just how deep your disdain for the green-haired male go. You despised him, and in turn, he loathed you just as much, such was obvious to every single Chrysos Heirs even 3 meters close to either of the two of you. Aglaea shares a similar abhor towards Anaxa, but even she admits not to that extent.

Every time either of you laid eyes on one another, the expression on you and Anaxa’s face goes consecutively sour. A frown framing both of your faces, as Anaxa ushered Hyacine to quickly leave the proximity of your presence, as you quickly (a safe distance away) conducted Castorice to leave, fearing that if you saw his despicable of a face again, you’d most likely throw up. Castorice eyes you weirdly when you claimed that, hesitantly taking a step away from you.

Needless to say, the two of you were polar opposites, ‘opposites attract’ be damned, because you certainly weren’t attracted to the likes of him! He may be smart, a little attractive, with exemplary argumentative statements and intelligence, and he may be good with younger kids, and good at cooking – but he’s not all that.

Not to mention, the two of you just had to both be professors in the Grove of epiphany! Seriously, there’s barely anyone primarily teaching, why couldn’t you just avoid this man? For titan's sake, he ruins your day just by passing by the field of your vision, your heart thumping and your cheeks flushing. Due to hate, of course, what else?

Anaxa despised the gods, a blasphemous existence he ran, the very acknowledgement of their overseeing presence irked him to no end, the fates, the destiny they imposed upon the mortals they so play with like entertainment puppets on their endless strings. He loathed it – you, on the other hand, were ever so obedient and bending to the wills of the gods, going on about, oh the gods believe ‘this’, the gods believe ‘that’, whenever you enter his classroom, Hyacine has to stop the two of you from engaging in an infinite verbal arguments in front of all his students.

You, a priest under Tribbie, a Chrysos Heir, adhering to the wills of the citizens, claiming prayer, singing praises for the divine above as if the gods ever cared even the slightest about any of them. Anaxa narrows his eyes at any act you perform for the gods, he almost feels sickened by it. Thus, when you first met – led to him ‘accidentally’ spilling a cup of coffee on you, the sarcastic display of an apology he gave, which then accelerated to the hatred you both held now. (PS; it really was an accident, and he did feel bad about it, but due to Anaxa’s pride, he would rather kill himself than say sorry to you)

“Your logic is flawed, your argument proves no pivotal point, insinuations towards your essential research query has not of any evidence nor extensive knowledge, is this what you are feeding to your students?” Anaxa dismissed you with a scoff, as he ‘happened’ to pass by your lecture – with the two of you both being professors at the Grove, somehow, someway – the universe seemed to love placing you together when both wanted nothing but to be as far away from one another as possible.

“No one asked you, professor Anaxa.”

“It’s Anaxagoras.” He scowled, his eyebrows pinching against each other.

“That’s my bad, Anaxa.”

“G-guys!” Hyacine stammered, waving her hand frantically to stop the eye contest the two of you shared in the room full of confused students, neither of you ever backed down, though.

This pattern of verbal arguments seemed to never cease. This, quickly became a nightmare for anyone in both of your proximations.

“I’m pretty sure your ideology towards this is incorrect.” Anaxa noted, eyes peering onto your board.

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to bash your head into the wall.” You glared back at him, your words of attempted threats did little to faze his stoic demeanor.

“Maybe when you get the right idea.”

“You little–!”

“Can you two please focus on the Chrysos Heirs meeting?” Aglaea sighed, her voice a stammer of annoyance or resignation at your childish camaraderies, urging you two to take your respective seats before another verbal debate happened to commence, and possibly delaying the progression of her plans further.

“You just seem to have all the answers in the world, don’t you?” You scoffed at the brazen display of knowledge that he bloated to - well, everyone.

“Someone has to be the voice of truth, of knowledge. Clearly, you aren’t that voice.” Anaxa hummed, not even lifting his head from his book. However, you didn’t fail to notice that he lifted his eye up to goad at your reaction.

“Gods I wish some external forces were to dissipate you.”

“Creative, but I don’t believe in the gods.”

“I swear to Kephale–” You scowled, his nonchalant facade seemed to fuel your competitive side as well.

“Still don’t place belief in the titans either.”

“Okay that’s it.”

"U-uh, we think this overview can end here..!" Tribbie suggested, her bright red hair stuck between the glare you and Anaxa shared, as Trianne and Trinnon allocated a glance at each other, then you two.

“(name), are you sure you really hate Anaxa? You talk about him so much even I think–” Aglaea started, hesitant to interrupt your thirty-first ranting session that week about Anaxa and all his apparent flaws, somehow, you always come up with new ones each time.

“I do not like him!”

Castorice and Aglaea paused, turning to share a glance, a small smile creeped onto Castorice’s lips.

“I didn’t ask whether you liked him or not.” Aglaea only offered a smile, to which you quickly avoided, spouting out the best rebuttal possible.

“Well, either way, I do not, do not like him!”

“But (name), I think it’s fine if you do, he seems to like you.” Castorice softly smiled, you knew she had no ill intent, but you were close to leaping off a ledge. Though, you couldn’t help but get slightly curious at her words.

“Yeah I don’t know where you got that from but he hates me, and fair, because I hate him too!”

The two paused, a glance shared with each other, then both turned their gaze to you, before Aglaea casted her hand on your shoulder with a reassuring glance??

“It’s okay, (name), rejection is–”

“I do not like him!”

What the two wished to say drowned in the moment, because both Castorice and Aglaea shared a quiet agreement that the words should properly come from Anaxa himself. Perhaps, you were simply blinded by hate, because despite the disdain, Anaxa’s eyes are always on you. No matter how far away.

It seems like the black tide was just as relentless as it sounded, because you, hunched over your stomach with a hand obscuring the iron-scented blood that stained your hand a disturbing bright red color wasn’t a good sight.

The grove of epiphany had been, for a lack of better words, evaded, by monsters drawn in by the black tide, along with a tall male-like figure dressed in a black cloak, the sword they held an abysmal of stars, which, you would’ve been mesmerized by, had it not struck you.

You weren’t a fighter. More of a priest – scholar, than anything, so just why did you stick behind in the grove of epiphany in an attempt to ‘protect’ your home from being ravaged by said beasts? It’s not a reason you’d ever admit out loud, no, not even if you were held at gunpoint, but you ultimately chose to stay because of Anaxa.

You quietly cursed yourself in your mind, a fumble of thoughts circling that made the wound too apparent, a burning sear traveled up your sides in an annoyed fury.

“(name), that’s enough.” Anaxa cursed, limping to your sides. You looked up, meeting his gaze, and hell, you really thought that you were already dead, because Anaxa looked like he was going to cry. Or, maybe it’s your own tears obscuring your vision, you really can’t tell.

He really couldn’t garner a bit of you. At all. Had you just left with the rest of the scholars like any dignified and reasonable person - you would’ve been fine! He wouldn’t have to look at you injured and feel that weird tugging at his heart like he’s the one injured, nor the clog of his throat that forced his words down as he stared at you.

Anaxa told you to leave the Grove of Epiphany behind, his hand had grasped your arm as he tried to reason with your obscene of an idea, he wanted you to be safe for - logic’s sake! The fighting hadn’t receded, as the monsters still towed across the soft hums of the trees in the Grove as he held you in his arms.

One of his hands rested on your shoulder, to steady you, the other – hovered over your injured form, afraid. But what was he afraid of? Had you asked Anaxa that, he might’ve chased you down before you could hear his answer.

“Why couldn’t you just have left?” He bitterly recounted, trying to calm his own mind. His body wasn’t looking any greater, either. His words were sharp, but lacked the usual bite as it would when he talked to you.

He couldn’t help it – he softened his voice unconsciously, with you so vulnerable. A soft breeze of the wind reminded him of the presence of a titan that loomed over his shoulder, gazing at his pathetic display of an emotional vulnerability, but he paid it no mind, not this time.

He didn't wait for you to talk, not that you could muster up much, the injuries rendering you quiet, to the point where he found a weird distaste towards your unusual lack of a rebuttal, shouldn't he be happy? The thought left a weird taste in his mouth.

He turned to Cerces, the reason titan. A resounding gaze in his eyes that didn’t offer any betrayal of emotions.

“You have to protect them. Please.”

He didn’t believe in gods, nor the titans - of their virtuous and welfare deeds they claimed and whatnot, but if that belief would protect you at this very moment, he’ll pray thousands of times over to secure you alive again. Even if you wanted to hit him in the face, even if you offered the dumbest of arguments, even if your presence annoyed him.

Cerces nodded, her gaze almost sorrowful, pitying the likes of him. Maybe she knew what it was like. A loved one, but Anaxa could care less about anything other than your state, because the fates just had to make him care about you, didn’t they?

He truly was a puppet to the strings of fate, as much as he tried to deny so, even in this sense. After all, Anaxa couldn’t help but care for you.

“Sorry, Anaxa..” You weakly peer up, your consciousness slipping out of your head, Anaxa looked down, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear softly, his hand hovering closer to your face, if you were just a bit more conscious, you might’ve seen the upturn of his lips.

Anaxa shakes his head softly. “Don’t be foolish, just rest.. You know you can’t possibly offend me.”

NOTES:

- OUH I HATE THIS SM. This took half my brain out i seriously DESPISE this. Anaxa's character is so interesting but so HARDDDD to incorporate when I want to vro - small notes i'd like to say: i really really like Anaxa's annotations to his real life excerpt: the greek philosopher Anaxagoras hahah, it's quite interesting because the said philosopher actually came up with the philosophy of nous !! And the greek mythology reference he could be based on is so annoying to think about because i can't find a good hero or god to base him off of, it's a work in progress though TT - I'm sorry if the dialogue were buttcheeks i can't write dialogue for the life of me. I just don't socialize man how am i supposed to know how to write people talking if I aint even talk??

𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞. ❞

#💫 — 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 writing ?!#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr drabbles #hsr imagines #anaxa x reader #anaxa x you #anaxa honkai star rail #anaxagoras #author is sleep deprived #this is so buttcheeks that i feel like i have to personally apologize to yall from the screen.#hsr

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bunnyhugs77 · 1 year ago

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Valentine Vixen

★Pairing: Stripper! Reader x Rich! Jungkook

★Happy Valentine's Day, Mwah

★WC: 3k

★Content: some fluff, clubbing, jk is so cute, he gets flustered, teasing, mutual pining, ft player! tae, reader is so hot, mentions of break ups, lap dances, double life, suggestive themes, a smidge of angst, brief psychology talk, mentions of boobs.

Other Content: desperate kisses, domme reader, hand jobs, grinding, almost cumming in pants, oral sex (m! receiving), subby jk. handcuffs, desperate jk, reader is a tease, nicknames, manhandling

"Look, that's her." With a subtle jut of his head, Jungkook directs Taehyung's line of sight about twenty meters off into the distance where you step up on the step ladder to shelve more novels.

Tae's eyes widen ever so slightly before his face relaxes into an all-knowing smirk, "So this is what's got you spending so much time at the library lately?" Jungkook shoves him in the side and you pretend not to notice the two of them obviously staring at you.

Letting your short acrylics graze over the spines of the paperbacks, pinpointing where the book in your hand should go. "I can't see her face from here, but I know a nice ass when I see one," Tae states obnoxiously and it makes Jungkook's face turn sour.

"C'mon, Tae." The elder rolls his eyes, "Lighten up. It's just a joke. Hopefully, tomorrow will help you chill out a bit." With an arched brow, Jungkook turns to face his best friend. "Tomorrow?"

"It's Valentine's Day, and I think it's about time you got some ass, Kook. Seriously, when's the last time you had a nice pair of tits in your face, huh?" Jungkook's cheeks flush but he does think about Tae's question.

After no more than a second had passed Tae interrupted his thoughts, "See. You can't even remember, don't worry. That's why I'm here. You're bound to get your dick wet at Red Haven tomorrow, the dancers there are next level." Tae raves, hands waving around to express his eagerness.

Red Haven was the new club that opened not too far from campus but it attracted a lot more than just some touch-deprived university students. Men were ranging from the ages of twenty-one to sixty-five.

"But-" Jungkook was about to object but Tae had picked up a call, reassuring the person on the other end of the line, "Maria, you know you're the only girl in my life." He coos and his face freezes, "Oh shit, this is Jessica? Baby, I was just joking. I don't even know a Maria." Tae walks off trying to save himself from the deep hole he'd dug himself into.

Leaving Jungkook at the table by himself once again, his eyes naturally gliding back to where you once were but he couldn't see you. His feet guided his brain over to the bookshelves where you once stocked away hardcovers.

He stops in his tracks as he lays his eyes on a certain book that caught his eye.

In your head

"That's a good choice." You startled him, the book slipping from his grasp and hitting the ground. The two of you reach down for it at the same time which in practicality wasn't a good idea. The impact of your heads colliding nearly knocked you to your feet.

"I'm so sorry," He apologizes, gaze checking in on you while you worked on picking up the novel off the floor. "I should be the one saying that. I didn't mean to scare you." You say, finally making eye contact and nothing could stop Jungkook from holding his breath.

You're breathtaking.

Beautiful dark brown eyes that held the most innocently seductive eye contact. The way your tan skin dimpled in your cheeks and the perfect formation of waves that your hair mimicked as it flowed down your shoulders.

"I've seen you around here a few times but I never got your name." Jungkook does his best to be subtle as he fishes for your name. It wasn't exactly the most discreet but you think it was a cute effort.

"I'm Y/n," You smile, handing him the book back and he just about collapses inside. Anything you wanted he would give it to you, and he's rich, he could make it happen. God, he would make sure you never had to lift a finger around him.

"I'm J-" It seems he didn't need to introduce himself because you already seemed to know him. "-Jungkook, right? The Dean's son." He sighs, of course.

That's how everyone knew him.

Being the son of the dean at the most prestigious university in the country wasn't something easy to escape. It continued to precede him anywhere he went. "Have you read it?" Your perfectly manicured finger points towards the book now in his possession and he nods.

"It's incredible, the way it examines the interplay between conscious and unconscious desires. I think it's pretty amazing." You blink once, then twice. "Don't pin me for the reading type, right?"

"Honestly, no, but trust me, I'm the last person who should be judging based on first impressions." He smiles at the sound of your soft chuckle. "Do you like psychology?" Your gaze now focused back to the shelves, "I hope so, I wouldn't want to be taking that major and not like it." You turn to him.

"You're a psychology major?" The tone of your voice gave away your disbelief but he wanted to know why this was so shocking.

"Yeah?"

"Weird. Usually, we would've had at least one class together if we shared the same major." He swallows thickly, briefly zoning out because he realizes he is talking to you. Finally, after months of watching you from a distance, trying to work up the nerve to approach you.

Getting too stuck in his thoughts, he loses his ability to speak. Settling for a hum of agreement. You sigh, disappointed. "What a shame. I would've liked having a cutie in my class like you." Your finger gently traces along his jaw and it feels like fire against his skin.

Before he could blink you were strutting away. Hips swaying like you were on a runway, he licks his lips. He'd never fumbled so badly before, but your beauty was something entirely different. It made him disoriented. He needed to get a grip.

Who would've thought the cute library assistant was so...tempting?

★★★

"Hey, Kook! I don't know If I'll be able to stay with you much longer. The bartender is giving crazy fuck me eyes and I can't leave her disappointed now can I?" Tae grabs his friends by the shoulder amidst the crowd of moving bodies.

"What about Maria?" Jungkook questions, referring to the woman Tae had spent all day before this one buttering up in hopes she would forgive him. Tae shrugs, "She'll forgive me again." Jungkook scoffs as he watches the silver-haired man travel through the sea of bodies.

Sometimes he couldn't believe that was his best friend, but he had to remember he wasn't always like this. This was just some terrible hoe phase he was going through.

He had gotten out of a 3-year-long relationship with Yara no more than 3 months ago and he's been on some sort of fucking spree ever since. He claims he feels so 'free' but deep down he was hurting and Jungkook knew that, but Tae refused to admit it.

But what could he do? It was a canon event and he couldn't interfere, even though he tried to once. Didn't end well. Tae was on a hunt for as many women as he could get, and he knew that eventually he would get sick of it and regain his senses.

His mind was pulled out of his thoughts once the entire venue went black for a few moments and the music was shut off. Jungkook was confused, maybe even a bit scared but it seemed there was no need to be as the crowd roared to life.

It seems they knew something he didn't.

"Introducing Red Haven's Vixens!" The announcer's voice rang through the speakers but the crowd was so much louder.

Jungkook was deep into the middle section of the audience so it was hard for him to get a clear view of the stage but he could see eight beautiful women walking onto the stage, in outfits he could probably use to floss.

There were so many colours on the stage. It was as if he'd died and been brought to the end of the rainbow where the sexiest guardian angels waited to bring him to heaven. Although there was one that piqued his interest.

All the girls were wearing some form of unique face paint that was accessorized with rhinestones, each one matching the general colour scheme of their outfits. There was something about the girl in the hot pink two-piece.

Jungkook fought to make his way to the front, face now up close to the base of the stage, looking up to the woman with hearts in his eyes. The way her hips swayed with the music, and her ass jiggled with each sharp movement.

She was a natural, with one hand on the pole she leaned back, looking right into the crowd. Her eyes scanned for a target before they landed on Jungkook as she began to grind your hips down onto it, making such a lewd expression.

She bit her lip and furrowed her brows just like one would as if they were close to- A shock ran through his body. It was you. Even with the gems and the paint around your eyes, he knew it was you, and by the slight smirk that crept up your lips, you knew he recognized you.

Once the performance was over Jungkook had found his way back to the front counter, eyes desperately scanning over the list of private sessions they offered. "How much would it cost for a room with the girl in pink?"

The clerk reminds Jungkook, "A private session grants you a private dance from one of our vixens. No touching of any kind is permitted unless granted by the Vixen, you must-" The rest of the rules were no brainers and Jungkook desperately wished he could fast forward the long speech.

"Got it. How much?"

"Well, Destiny is our Vixen of the highest demand, a 10-minute session could cost you up to five hundre-" Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. "I'll give you a thousand." He interrupts and the woman's jaw drops. She promptly hands him the key, "Third door on your left."

He'd been sitting in the nicely decorated room for the last five minutes. He was sitting on the chair that faced the door, his right leg bouncing uncontrollably. He was so nervous, and if he was being honest, he was already sporting a semi just from the thought of you walking through that door any second now.

The lights in the room flickered from the bright blue as it strobed to a gentle purple before a deep pink. The door opened, and there you were. In the same outfit you'd worn on stage except this time the music had changed to Wild Side.

"It is you." Jungkook gasps cutely as you take confident strides towards him. "Right, you are." Your heels made you tower over him once you stood before him.

"B-But- why?" You laugh, "The same reason why billions of other people have jobs. I've got an expensive tuition that won't pay for itself." He frowns, speaking before thinking. "I'll pay for it." You give him a playful roll of your eyes before you bend at the waist, bringing your face close to his.

"You're lucky you're so cute." The mere proximity was making Jungkook's brain get mushy and hazy with lust. He wanted you so badly, would do absolutely anything to have to, anything you said.

"Now, let me see those hands." You order and just like a dog to its owner, he follows instructions immediately, his hands out in front of you and you slowly walk around him, taking one hand then the other and handcuffing them behind his back.

He doesn't even remember seeing you walk in with handcuffs then again there was a lot about tonight that he didn't see coming. Like how smoothly you were able to straddle his lap and begin a slow, deep grind.

"So I really can't touch you at all?" Your heart skipped a beat at the way he was almost pouting when he said it. "You can try, but it's so much more fun this way. Watching you struggle to touch me." Your voice is as gentle as a whisper that should've been lost over the music but it was spoken right into his ear.

The feeling of your breath against the shell of his ear sends the hairs on the back of his hair to stand, and goosebumps to raise. He was rock solid in his jeans, although you already knew that. You could feel it. With every sensual roll of your hips, the man beneath you became a little more whiny.

"Do you think about me touching you?" Whipping your hair to the side as you leaned down intentionally close to his neck, making sure he felt your presence all over. His hips stutter under your set pace and it caused you to jolt slightly, "Fuck yes- Every day." He answers. Voice empty and high-pitched.

"Yeah?" You slowly slide off him, and let your knees hit the soft cushioned floor. You weren't doing anything, simply resting your arms on his knees and letting your head rest innocently on your hands.

How dare you look up at him like such an angel while you tempted him with a world of sin.

"Tell me, what do I do to you?" He sucks in a sharp breath as he feels your hand slowly glide up the inseam of his jeans. "You-" He gets distracted, losing his train of thought the moment your hand gently squeezes the thick muscle of his thigh, "Shit. You take my cock in your mouth and you suck me off until-" you squeeze his thigh once again, a little tighter this time.

"Hm? Until what? Until you cum in my mouth? Or on my chest?" Leaning back up, making an intimidating eye contact that Jungkook was unable to hold. "Look at me, Kookie." God. That nickname was so belittling, made him feel like he was being teased, but oh how he loved it.

"Until What? Say it." You grit, your hand holding his face, just firm enough for your middle finger and thumb to press into his cheeks. "Until I cum in your mouth and you swallow it." He looked so ashamed to say it, but it only caused you to grin bigger.

"Can I touch you, Kookie?"

He nods, nods and nods. "Please." His voice was a mere whisper, and at a certain pause during the music, you could hear him fighting against his restraints.

Back on your knees, your hands worked skillfully on getting him out of his pants and pulling how his briefs, just low enough for his throbbing dick to be released. Already budding with precum, some of it sticking to the base of his shirt as it rests against his abdomen.

"Nice cock." You almost wanted to laugh at the cliché, but it was true. Jungkook really had the prettiest dick you'd ever laid your eyes on, and he was big too.

He doesn't respond, eyes focused on your every move while his cheeks tinted red. He was anticipating for the contact between your hand and his length, but he still wasn't prepared.

Sucking in a sharp breath as he watched you spit on it and proceed to flash him the most charming smile he'd ever seen. You wanted to kill him, and Jungkook was afraid you'd succeed.

Your hand languidly rose from base to tip, working him up but he didn't need that, he wanted to last. His hips bucked up with every motion of your hands, "Relax," You coo, hand continuing its ministrations while Jungkook's head fell back. Hands still fighting against the cuffs desperately.

"a-ah." he moans so sweetly as your lips unexpectedly place a chaste kiss on his tip. Eyes shooting wide open, "Shit- 'm not gonna last." He warns but you continue anyway. Letting your tongue swirl around his tip like your favourite popsicle.

"Y/n-" His groans became more breathless and frequent, "Oh shit- Y/n-" Being ambitious you relaxed your throat and took deep breaths through your nose as you deepthroated his length. Fondling his balls in your left hand as you continued to work the base that you couldn't fit with your right.

That was it for him.

Jungkook's hot cum was filling your mouth with no further warning and the sound of the clashing metal rang in your ears, you grin. Looking up at the man who you've just ruined.

He blinks down at you with no thoughts behind his eyes, you maintain eye contact and swallow. He groans; and just to make sure you made his dreams come true, you stick out your tongue when you're done.

You stand, and the song changes once more, now playing sex with me.

How fitting, you think.

You uncuff Jungkook's wrists and with all the strength in his body, he tugs you back down to his lap. "Let me kiss you," A big strong man like him had just manhandled you to his will yet here he was still asking for your permission.

Good boys deserve treats.

You lean in, tilting your head to the side as your lips meet in a lustful exchange of saliva and desperation. This was all Jungkook needed. His hands unconsciously roamed down your backside until they found comfort on the soft flesh of your ass. Giving it a confident grip, you moaned into the kiss.

The two of you hardly pulled away, kissing like you wanted to become one. The way your body rolled against his and he pushed up into you.

"Can I fuck you?" He looked up to you with stars in his eyes and he was just the cutest thing, just as you wanted to answer, the lights strobe back to their default blue colour.

Slowly, you dismount him. Pretending that you weren't soaking through your costume. "Next time," You leaned down to drop a kiss on his cheek and begin to make your way out, "Happy Valentine's Day." You flash him one last wink and walk out of sight.

Happy Valentine's Day ♡

#jungkook smut #bts #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #jungkook fic recs #jungkook #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #valentines day #btsscenarios #btssmuts #jeon jungguk #bts imagines #bts fic recs

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othersidedd · 19 days ago

Text

Cigarettes

Jackson! Joel Miller x f!reader

🖤 Joel smokes for the stress and you want to join him. However Joel thinks you're too sweet for cigarettes, but maybe he can offer you something else for your restless nights.

🖤 (sorry i think smoking is kinda hot) songs that inspired me w this; !!too sweet - hozier!!, a little death - the neighbourhood, art deco - lana del rey and cigarette smoker fiona - arctic monkeys

🖤 wc. 3.5k

🖤 Tags: one shot, (romanticized) smoking, stressed joel, struggle with sleep, opposites attract, kissing, praise, handjob, oral sex (f receiving), joel has hair yum, soft joel but he also mocks you for a bit

(reader is described as having hair she can braid)

____________________________________________

Smoking had became a habit for Joel, with all the stress about Ellie and his past memories that kept him up tossing and turning around bed most nights. Cigarettes were his way to calm down on those hard nights. He'd go to the porch of his house, setting down the cigarettes and a glass of whiskey on the wooden table. He'd reach for the lighter in the pocket of his blue worn jeans. He would sit there in the dark and quietness, sometimes for just a few minutes, sometimes for almost an hour. He enjoyed the way it was just him, he'd take long drags of the cigarette and slowly close his eyes, feeling the cold night breeze on his rough skin. He only allowed himself one cigarette per night, after all cigarettes weren't the easiest thing to obtain during these times.

You knew about Joel's bad habit. You'd seen him multiple times on your late night walks. Sometimes he would see you and quietly nod his head your way, an acknowledgement. Other times he wouldn't see you, his eyes closed and head slightly leaned back. Those times you'd linger around for a bit longer, stopping in your tracks and admiring the rough looking man, his skin highlighted by the dim yellow lights of his porch. But you decided to stop admiring him after a time you got caught by the man himself. You swore you only stood there for a few small seconds, watching Joel exhale the gray smoke of the cigarette resting between his calloused fingers, his eyes closed and face less tense and worried compared to other times you'd see him around the town. But apparently your seconds of eyeing him were too long. Joel slowly opened his eyes, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. His dark brown eyes found you, standing some meters away. Just standing there, completely still, like a deer in headlights, staring right back at him. His intense gaze felt almost primal on you, making your body fill up with nervousness, you wanted to run away.

"You need somethin'?"

You quickly averted your eyes from him, finding anywhere else to look but him. Nervously you fidgeted with your hands in front of you, suddenly you felt too aware of everything, of yourself, you thought about how pathetic you probably looked to him. He probably wanted to laugh at you. You stood frozen in one spot, shaking your head. You hoped that was enough of an response to him as you forced your legs to move you away from the awkward encounter, one step at a time closing the distance to your house.

Joel looked at you, eyebrow slightly cocked and his eyes filled with amusement. You avoided looking at him, turning your back to him and continuing to walk, causing you to not notice the smallest hint of a smirk forming on his lips. Joel had seen you on your walks, but you would always just walk past, barely even admitting his presence in the dark night. He wondered why you took your walks so late, it felt unusual for you. You were always so pretty, put together, as put together you can be in apocalypse, you usually wore old, a little rough looking sundresses, yet they still hugged your body in just the right places and made your sweet smile look brighter in a way. You had found some spare cloth, deciding to turn it into bows, you'd tie your hair with them. Sometimes your hair was in braids with little bows at the ends, that was Joel's favorite one. He always admired the way you looked so soft, like the apocalypse had just never happened to you. And you seemed happy, so why were you out in the middle of night, walking around in your sleeping clothes and messy hair? These were Joel's private moments, but somehow you had made your way into them. Some nights he found himself expecting you. He gazed in the direction of your house, and when he finally saw you coming, he tried to study your face, which the dim lighting made difficult. Did you wear any worries, or sadness on your face? Were you also bothered by old memories and stress? He would blow out smoke and watch you pass by.

You walked to your door quickly, taking a deep breath when your hand fell on your door knob. You promised yourself you would not stare at him again, to save yourself from this embarrassment in the future. Your heart was still beating as you reached your bedroom. You swore to yourself, feeling annoyed knowing that now you were definitely not getting any sleep. You laid your body on the cream white sheets. Sleeping had always been hard for you. You remember that even as a kid you would turn around in your bed for what felt like hours, flipping your soft pillows over multiple times. And now, being in the middle of an apocalypse, falling asleep had just gotten more difficult. That's why you started to go on your little strolls, the fresh air helped ease your mind a little bit. And when you started seeing Joel on his smoking breaks, you started looking forward to the walks even more. You couldn't help it, Joel was like the total opposite of you, big, rough skin filled with old scars and bruises, dark brown eyes surrounded by wrinkles caused by years of worrying and fighting, and that made you all the more interested in him. You felt like the only thing similar between you two were these sleepless nights. He intimated you, but in a way that made your stomach flip. Some days you would see him in town, and you felt like he always looked at you for too long, you could never hold the eye contact as he studied your face, your body, the way your hair was put today. You'd look away, trying your best to look busy. Joel had taken notice to how you avoided his studying gaze every time, as if you were afraid of him.

It was one of those nights again, for the both of you. Joel had an especially rough day, Ellie giving him attitude for the whole day and his past haunting him again. You felt restless tossing your body around your soft sheets. You had tried everything, drank water, took a warm shower, you even tried counting sheep, but nothing would bring you even an inch closer to drifting to sleep. So, you finally gave up, sat up on the edge of the mattress, sighed loudly and went to grab your jacket. A worn and slightly dirt covered denim jacket. You threw it over your nightdress, grabbed a pair of boots and made your way outside. It was completely quiet outside, everyone surely already long asleep. You went on your usual route, unconsciously making your way towards Joel's house. His porch lights flickered in the distance, and you noticed his familiar figure sitting there, smoke lingering around him.

Joel heard your soft steps against the gravel. He'd started to listen for them, hoping you would pass by. In a way it comforted him, knowing he wasn't alone in his late night worries and habits, you had something bothering you too.

He looked ethereal in the porch lights, his dark eyes glimmering like pearls. His dark curls slightly messy, you'd guess that was caused by rolling around in bed. His eyes followed your every move, as if you would suddenly attack him and he needed to keep watch. But he knew this would go just the same it always does, you walking past, only giving him a few small glances, leaving him alone again.

Something inside of you sparked when you saw him, you turned your head just once more to get a full look at him, his gray t-shirt covered in small wrinkles and his rough looking blue jeans. The cigarette resting between his lips, before his fingers grabbed it again. He was still looking into your eyes as he exhaled the smoke, and you couldn't help but feel something deep in your stomach. You were tired of these hard, lonely nights, you were going to try to change something tonight. It took you every bit of courage to open your mouth, and your question came out as more of a whisper.

"Can I join you?"

You thanked the nightly quietness around you for the fact that Joel heard you. He nodded, his expression softening ever so slightly. As you made your way towards him and the wooden porch, the smell of cigarettes reached your nose. You had never smoked, but it seemed to help Joel with his nights, so maybe it could have benefit to you too. Joel still kept his eyes tightly on you, he was unsure of your motives, he could only read nervousness on your face.

"Did you need something?" Joel finally allowed himself to speak as you sat down on the other chair, placed on the other side of the table that his drink and cigarette pack were resting on. "Can I have one?" You said slowly. Joel looked confused, but you nodded your head towards the pack and earned a low laugh from him.

"Didn't know you were a smoker," Joel said with amusement in his voice. "Ya' sure don't look like one." He eyed your pretty nightdress that peeked from under your jacket.

"Well- I'm not. I've never smoked. But-" You anxiously played with your fingers in your lap. "I have trouble sleeping, I thought, maybe it could help." Joel chuckled at your response and raised his eyebrows.

"That so?" He took a long breath of his cigarette, your eyes following his fingers moving it to his mouth. His rough and dry mouth wrapping around it, making the cigarette look oddly small. "You shouldn't." He added while blowing out the tobacco filled air from his mouth. You looked at his every action, you felt like your stomach was burning. Your mouth hang slightly open. "Why?" You softly said and Joel's eyes returned to you.

"You're too sweet for this stuff," He aimed the cigarette in his hand towards you. "Rather' keep it that way." You almost felt like he was being kind to you, did he really care about you enough to not want you to smoke? But you wanted to try, you were willing to attempt anything if it had any possibility of easing your nights.

"Please Joel," His breath shivered at your pleading, the way your eyes shined. Such a pretty little thing, begging something from him. It made his head flood with thoughts he shouldn't have, that he haven't had in a long while. "Just one?" You whispered into the night air.

"We don't wanna ruin your pretty lungs, darlin'."

Even if he was only calling your lungs pretty, something he couldn't even see, it still made your heart leap in your chest.

"Besides, what's got you so sleepless? Ya' always seem like such a sunshine around these streets."

You shrugged your shoulders, looking up at the starry sky. "Night time has always been a struggle for me." You explained to him, seeing in your side vision how he took a sip of the dark orange liquid, his whiskey.

"If ya' really want these nasty things so bad," he said, a little bit of ash falling from the cigarette between his fingers. "Come here." You slowly rose up from your seat, cold wind hitting your bare legs. You made your way around the table, stopping in front of his chair unsurely. You weren't sure what he wanted from you, where he wanted you, what he was going to do. You'd assumed he would be a gentleman and light you one, hand it to you here, not wanting to reach over the table. But instead, his fingers brought the cigarette up to his own lips. Slowly he took a breath in, rising from his seat to stand in his full height in front of you. The action made you feel small, you had to stretch your neck and look up to maintain the tense eye contact between the two of you. Joel held the smoke in his mouth, and you felt his hand making it's way to your face. His index finger positioned under your chin, and his thumb slightly brushed under your lips. The excitement in your stomach, that was slowly moving to between your thighs was almost unbearable. Joel was like an unsolved mystery to you, his next move, next words were always a surprise to you. He looked at your lips, forcing you to open your mouth by pulling at your lower lip with his thumb. He close the last inches of distance between you two, and brought his lips dangerously close to yours. At this point you had already long forgotten about the cigarettes on the table beside you, those being the last thing you wanted right now, but Joel gently blowing the smoke to your mouth returned your mind to what you had asked from him. You smelled the tobacco, and Joel. Then you tasted the smoke that was traveling to your mouth on your tongue. Joel slowly backed away from your lips, so you could focus on the smoke exploring your mouth, still keeping a hold of your chin. You finally closed your mouth after what felt like hours, and coughed gently. You weren't sure if it was because of the cigarette or because of shock.

"See, it's no good for sweet girls like you." Joel gently smiled at your coughing, rubbing his thumb on your chin, almost as if to soothe you.

"Ya' think you can handle more?" He asked, amusement in his eyes, like he was testing you. You were far too gone in your own delirium to form words, instead nodding your head softly, trying your best not to disturb the fingers still resting on your chin. Joel swore he could see the want glimmering in your eyes, the want, not for cigarettes, but for something more. Something he could give you.

He took another drag of his cigarette, and slowly, almost too slowly, teasingly slowly, his lips made their way to yours again. This time however, he didn't try to open your lips for him. Instead he closed his eyes, you mirroring the action, and you felt his lips touch yours, gently, like he was asking for permission. And of course, you granted it. You opened your lips against his, and quickly, he exhaled, his mouth connected to yours, smoke finding its way to your mouth. You almost felt like the moment would end here, that he would pull away again, maybe send you on your way to go back home, saying that he gave you what you begged for. But, before his lips even fully left yours, he kissed you again. This time it was sloppier, he wasn't on a mission to transfer smoke between your mouths, now his motive was just to kiss you. You softly sighed at the feeling of his mouth on yours, and he took his chance and slid his tongue in your mouth. He was exploring every inch like he was a starved man, and you were his first meal in months. But truly you were, Joel couldn't even remember the last time he felt like this, the last time he felt someone's soft lips on his. You felt your arousal slowly damping your panties, and then, you felt the smoke burning in your throat. You shot open your eyes and Joel felt your discomfort, his lips leaving your mouth, a small string of saliva hang in the air, connecting you two to each other. He let go of your chin to allow you to cough. He smirked as he watched you, your pupils blown wide by the intensity of the moment.

"You alright? Did I give ya' a bit too much?" Joel said, almost in a slightly mocking tone. You laughed softly, and nodded, not sure to which question you were giving an answer to, too caught up in the arousal and tension in your body to think clearly.

"Actually," Joel took a hold of your face again, this time covering your cheek with his calloused fingers. "I think you want somethin' else than this." He looked at the cigarette still hanging in his hand, then returned his dark brown eyes back to you. You brought your hands to his belt, brushing slightly against the growing bulge in his jeans, gently tugging at his brown belt, hoping he would be pleased with that as a response. Joel slowly shook his head, a dark look in his eyes.

"Need you to use your words," He rubbed his thumb over your lips. "Tell me what you want, use that pretty voice of yours." His low voice was enough for you to squeeze your thighs together, feeling the wet spot in your underwear.

"I want you, Joel." You pleaded, a begging look on your face. Your pretty eyes, so filled with need it looked like you could burst into tears if you couldn't get what you wanted, if you couldn't get him. Those eyes caused Joel's breath to shiver.

He broke the almost dangerously too intense contact between you two to put out his cigarette. He stamped it on the table and tossed the remains in the jar with all the other ones from earlier nights. "Good girl." He whispered, voice dark with want. You whined quietly when you felt his hands return to your body, grabbing you by the waist, his touch felt burning on your cold skin. You followed his lead to the front door, leaving the cold night and cigarettes behind you. You could still feel the burn of the smoke in your throat as he lead you to his bedroom inside the dark house. Everything was so still and so quiet.

He gently lead you to his bed, covered in wrinkled up dark sheets and a blanket, a proof of his restlessness from earlier. You sat on the bed, looking up at him with parted lips, your breathing shallow. "Fuck." Joel swore under his breath at the sight of you. You looked like someone worshipping a god, the way your pupils searched his face, the way your lips shined with arousal, the way your hands worked open his belt. You nudged down his pants and boxers with trembling hands. "Take it slow, baby. We have all night." Joel smirked at you and your eager hands working on his pants. His hard cock gently slapped against his stomach and his happy trail, smearing some of his leaking precum onto his dark hairs. You admired the sight, trying to memorize every vein of his cock and every hair trailing down his stomach into your mind. Joel's loud breathing brought you back to the moment. You wrapped a soft hand around the base and earned a low, breathy groan from the man above you. By the way Joel was reacting to even your slightest touches, you'd guess he most likely hadn't been touched in a while, just like you. Sex wasn't really the biggest concern for people during times like these.

"You're doin' so good," Joel praised you between shallow breaths and quiet groans as your hand moved around him. "But, I wanna see you, baby." He looked at you, collecting himself as you removed your hands from his body. You stripped out of your jacket and started tugging at the lace hem of your dress, but Joel took a held of your wrist softly. "Let me." You nodded, Joel not noticing as he was already focused on pulling your nightdress over your head. You felt the air hit your bare chest, causing your nipples to harden, Joel swearing under his breath, he felt like he could almost drool at the sight of you, so pretty and soft everywhere, so different from his rough and scarred skin. He softly massaged your breasts, brushing his thumbs slightly over your nipples, causing you to softly whimper.

"You're so beautiful. A soft, pretty girl like you don't belong to the apocalypse." He said, as if you had a choice. As if you could just be excluded from all of it. "Joel." You whispered his name as he lowered his face to your neck, kissing your skin, your skin feeling like silk on his lips.

"And she also don't belong to my bed, with me," Joel breathed into your neck, the action earning shivers from you. "You're too sweet for me." But in your mind, this was exactly where you belonged. His bed, with him, was where you wanted to belong. "Shhh." You shushed him as you softly pushed his head down. He kneeled before you on the wooden floor, kissing his way down your stomach. You opened your legs for him, and leaned back on your elbows. You watched him leave kisses to your stomach, slowly moving to your thighs. He looked right into your eyes from between your legs, and his gaze alone, was enough for you to shiver and whine his name.

"I'll take care of ya', my sweet girl." He whispered against your thigh, his facial hairs tickling your skin. You felt him as he moved your damp panties to the side, his mouth finally exploring your most sensitive spots, causing you to throw your head back and moan his name into the night over and over again, as he tasted the sweetness of you on his tongue.

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once again, if you have any thoughts or opinions id appreciate to hear them <3

🖤: angel

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #tlou fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut

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writeriguess · 4 months ago

Text

The Quiet Storm // Katsuki x fem!reader

author's note: another comfort fic <3

The air was thick with smoke and the acrid tang of burning metal. Explosions echoed in the distance, but you were too focused on the enemy in front of you to care about anything else. Katsuki Bakugo was a few meters to your left, palms sparking and lips curled into a familiar snarl as he sized up the group of villains blocking your path.

"You keeping up, or what?" he barked over his shoulder, crimson eyes flicking toward you for the briefest second.

You smirked, raising your fists. "Don't get cocky, Dynamight. I'm not the one who's been holding back."

His laugh was sharp and brief, more of a scoff. "As if! Watch and learn, princess."

Without waiting for a response, Katsuki launched forward, palms blasting him through the air as he closed the distance to the nearest villain. You moved in tandem, feet pounding against the concrete as you targeted the opponent on the right.

The fight was chaos—an orchestra of shouts, quirk flashes, and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat in your ears. You dodged a burst of ice, countering with a well-timed uppercut that left the villain sprawling. Beside you, Katsuki was relentless, explosions lighting up the battlefield as he dispatched his targets with brutal efficiency.

"Hey!" he shouted, jerking his head toward a trio of villains regrouping further down the alley. "You take left, I'll cover the rest."

"Got it!"

You veered left, engaging a tall villain with a quirk that seemed to amplify sound waves. The noise was deafening, but you powered through, using your agility to weave past his attacks before delivering a decisive blow. The moment he dropped, you turned to see Katsuki finishing off the last of his targets with a thunderous explosion.

"Done already?" you teased, jogging over to him.

"Of course I am," he shot back, his expression a mix of pride and irritation. "What, you thought I'd let some weak-ass extras slow me down?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps made you both tense. Turning toward the source, you caught sight of a shadowy figure emerging from the smoke, their presence radiating danger.

"Stay sharp," Katsuki muttered, stepping in front of you without a second thought.

"Like I need you to protect me," you replied, though you felt a flicker of warmth at his instinctive action.

The figure stopped a few paces away, their lips curling into a sinister smile. "Well, well. Dynamight and his little sidekick. This should be fun."

You exchanged a glance with Katsuki, his eyes burning with determination. "Sidekick?" he growled. "You're dead."

The fight shifted in an instant. The villain moved faster than you anticipated, closing the distance and slamming you against the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of your lungs. Pain radiated through your back as you crumpled to the ground, your legs refusing to respond.

You tried to push yourself up, but your body betrayed you. A wave of panic surged through you as you realized you couldn't move your legs.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, your hands trembling as you tried to drag yourself away from the approaching figure.

"Hey!" Katsuki's voice cut through the chaos like a whip. The second he saw you on the ground, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and his explosive rage ignited. "Get your damn hands off her!"

The villain barely had time to react before Katsuki launched himself forward, his palms detonating with a deafening roar. The force of the explosion sent the enemy flying, slamming them into a crumbling wall with a sickening thud.

Katsuki didn’t stop. He didn’t even glance back at you as he relentlessly advanced, blasting the villain again and again until they were completely incapacitated. Smoke and rubble filled the air, the battlefield eerily quiet as the last explosion echoed into the distance.

When he finally turned around, his face was a mixture of fury and worry. "You okay?" he barked, crouching beside you. His hands hovered over you for a second before he hesitantly rested one on your shoulder.

"I—" You gritted your teeth, your voice trembling. "I can’t move my legs, Katsuki."

His eyes widened briefly before narrowing again, his jaw tightening. "What the hell are you talking about?"

You gestured weakly to your legs. "I don’t know what they did, but I can’t feel them. I think—" Your voice cracked. "I think they hit my spine."

For a moment, Katsuki just stared at you, the realization sinking in. Then, with a surprising gentleness, he slipped an arm under your shoulders and another under your knees, carefully lifting you into his arms.

"Don’t you dare freakin’ cry," he muttered, his voice gruff but oddly soft. "You’re gonna be fine, got it? We’ll get you outta here, and Recovery Girl’ll fix you up."

"Katsuki..." you started, but he cut you off with a glare.

"Shut up. Save your strength. You’re not dying on me, you hear?"

Despite the situation, you managed a weak laugh. "I don’t think not moving my legs means I’m dying."

"Don’t care," he snapped, adjusting his grip on you as he started moving. "You’re not allowed to give up. Not now, not ever. You’re tougher than this."

As the two of you left the battlefield behind, the sound of distant sirens growing closer, you clung to his words like a lifeline. For all his explosive temper and harsh words, Katsuki had a way of making you feel like you could survive anything—even this.

The stark white walls of the hospital room felt oppressive, each sterile surface a harsh reminder of the situation you were in. You lay in the hospital bed, blankets pulled up to your waist, hands clenched into tight fists atop them. The doctor’s words were still ringing in your ears, louder than the quiet hum of the machines around you.

"The injury to your spine is significant," he had said, his voice measured but heavy with caution. "We’re going to do everything we can, but there’s a possibility... there’s a possibility you may not walk again."

You’d barely been able to nod as he continued, his expression softening. "I’ll also be informing your school about your condition. You’ll be signed off hero duty temporarily... though the decision may be permanent, depending on your recovery."

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was unbearable. Your thoughts filled the void almost instantly, spiraling out of control.

What if I can’t walk again? What if I can’t fight anymore? What if I can’t be a hero?

The images in your head came unbidden: your classmates excelling in their training, while you watched from the sidelines. Pitying looks from teachers, friends, and strangers. Worst of all, Katsuki turning his back on you because you couldn’t keep up with him anymore.

The thought hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. You barely noticed the burning sensation in your eyes until a tear slipped down your cheek.

"Stop it."

The sharpness in Katsuki’s voice cut through the haze, dragging you back to reality. He was sitting in the chair beside your bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly. His crimson eyes burned into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, frustration, and... concern?

"Stop what?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"That look," he snapped, leaning closer. "Like it’s over. Like you’re some kinda useless extra now."

You scowled, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Easy for you to say, Katsuki! You’re not the one who might never walk again. You don’t know what it feels like to have everything you’ve worked for ripped away in one fight!"

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, in a low, growling voice, he replied, "You think I don’t care? You think I’d just stand here if I didn’t give a damn about what happens to you?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his words. "I—" You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. "I don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything anymore. I’m scared, Katsuki. What if I can’t be a hero anymore? What if I’m just... nothing?"

Katsuki shot to his feet, the chair screeching against the floor as he glared down at you, his expression a mix of anger and something softer—something raw. "You’re not nothing, dammit!"

His voice rang out in the small room, and for a moment, you could only stare at him, wide-eyed.

"You’re one of the strongest people I know," he continued, his voice rough but steady. "Stronger than half those idiots at school, stronger than me sometimes. You don’t just give up because shit gets hard!"

The sincerity in his voice was like a punch to the chest, leaving you breathless for an entirely different reason.

"Why do you care so much?" you asked, your voice trembling.

For a moment, Katsuki froze, his crimson eyes widening slightly before narrowing again. "Because..." he started, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair, turning his gaze away from you.

"Because what?" you pressed, your heart pounding.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his teeth gritting audibly. "Just... shut up, alright?!"

You flinched at his outburst, but before you could say anything, he stepped closer, his expression fierce. "Look," he muttered, his voice quieter now, "I don’t care what the hell that doctor said. You’re not giving up. Not now, not ever. You’re gonna fight through this, and I’ll..." He hesitated, his gaze softening slightly. "I’ll make damn sure you don’t do it alone."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from fear or frustration. There was something in Katsuki’s tone, in the way he was looking at you, that made you feel like you weren’t completely lost.

"You mean that?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tch. Don’t make me say it again, idiot."

Despite everything, a weak laugh escaped your lips. "You’re such an ass."

"And you’re a pain in mine," he shot back, but there was no heat in his words. Instead, he moved to sit back down, his chair scraping softly against the floor.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the weight of the situation still hanging in the air, but something had shifted. Katsuki’s presence was steady, grounding, and for the first time since waking up in the hospital, you felt like you could breathe again.

You didn’t know what the future held, but as long as Katsuki was by your side, you felt like you could face it.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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fleuryns · 2 months ago

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末 : I'M A BUSY WOMAN . . YOU'RE TIRED OF WAITING FOR THEM

❝ 𝗂 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 ❞

엔하이픈 형 & 𝑓!r . . 72O scenarios ꪆৎ light angst situationships breakup possible ex established relationship red flags badass reader — ARCHiVE

fawnie : because i said i wanted to make a sabrina carpenter inspired fic, so here it is :33

like ◜ᴗ◝ reblog

LEE HEESEUNG

the pounding of the music resonated in the air, and the fluorescent colored lights danced around at exaggerated speed. you were there with some friends to have a night of fun and letting loose, but your expression clouded for a split second as you saw him entering the party.

heeseung didn't take long to spot you, and you felt your heart beat faster as he started to approach. the place was thankfully too packed, so he got stopped a few meters from you. his eyes looked desperate, dancing around your face in search of something that could tell him that you missed him too. his lips parted, but he closed them immediately.

for a moment, the world around you stopped existing, and it was just a stare game between you too. then you smirked, pushing your hair behind your shoulders and turning your back to him. you didn't miss him, not when he realized he had you only after you walked away. and if he thought that you would give in so easily, he was messing with the wrong woman.

PARK JONGSEONG

your heels clicked as you hurried down jay's corridor, his own steps following right behind, equally frantic. “baby, come on, you have to stay” he was pleading over and over again. “stay another night…” he murmured again, stepping in front of you to block your path, his hand coming to grip your waist and his lustful eyes coming to meet your tired ones.

“you only care about me at night?” your question just a statement to you, one you already knew the answer to. “you said we'd spend time together today and yet you came back half an hour ago” you tried to brush past him, but he blocked you with a gentle hand, though the urgency was clear in his gesture. “baby, i was busy, you have to understand…”

you shot him a glare, pushing him with more force to finally free yourself and reach the entrance. “i was busy too” you said curtly, putting on your jacket. “i'm done playing missus jay, i have a life” you grabbed your purse and left him garbling for an excuse.

SIM JAEYUN

the rhythmic tapping of the keyboard filled the air in your new office, your mind at ease despite the piling tasks that your recent promotion had brought. your focus was broken by one of the interns knocking and peeking in.

“there's a man at the entrance that wants to see you” you sighed, saving the file before making your way over. but when you got there, you sighed again, internally rolling your eyes at the sight of jake standing there. as soon as he spotted you he closed the distance between you and immediately begun with his begging you had grown accustomed to.

“please, baby, come back to me! i promise i'll be better, i've learned now!” his words tumbled out quickly, and he clearly hadn't changed one bit in the way he expected you to give in to his requests like everybody did. “i'm busy, jake” you sighed, crossing your arms “i have a new job now, and you're wasting my time, go away” you signaled the doorman to ensure his exit and went back to your office.

PARK SUNGHOON

your fingers drummed in annoyance on the table, the table you had reserved for the date sunghoon hadn't bothered to come on time to. you sighed softly, it was the third time this month, it had become a way too frequent habit of his, you were officially done with his antics.

the bell by the door signaled his entrance, two hours late, and the way he calmly made his way over to you made your blood boil. “sorry, got held up by some stuff” he waved a dismissive hand, not even bothering to hide the fact that he didn't actually feel sorry.

“alright…” you sighed, getting up and gathering your stuff, not sparing him another glance. “what are you doing?” he asked, tone confused, his head moving to try and meet your gaze. finally, you looked at him and raised your eyebrows. “i'm done eating, so i'm leaving” you spoke in a matter-of-factly tone. “see you never sunghoon, i'll go on solo dates from now on, i won't even notice the difference” you turned and left the restaurant feeling lighter than ever.

🐾 : @kflixnet @leaderwon @pearlescene @chrrific @woniefication / taglist open

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anaxiphiliiaa · 2 months ago

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Other ways of persuasion ft. Zayne (LnD)

w/c: 4,438 content warning: Fem Y/N, porn with plot, unprotected sex. notes: This is actually a gift for a friend who described Zayne in details to me lmao. Minors DNI.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

20:30, you were sitting by the window in an upscale restaurant downtown. Your eyes were glued outside the glass to put up the appearance of admiring the bustling, snowy landscape outside, but truthfully, it was only to ignore the pitiful look the waiting staff were shooting your way every time they walked by, unsubtly hinting at the length of time you’d been sitting there alone without ordering. You ordered a glass of white wine just to shoo them off for at least a little longer, while you held on to the very diminishing hope that your date for the night would be showing up soon, sputtering apologies and a bouquet in hand.

No such thing happened, proven an hour later when you were still sitting rigidly right there, unmoving, but there were now two empty wine glasses on the tastefully decorated tablecloth. You had been trying to swallow down your simpering anger with the alcohol. A waitress came up to the table with a sympathetic look that bordered on pity, and you paid without uttering a word, snatching your bag up and walking out of the restaurant with clenched hands.

The sight of a familiar Audi pulling up to the restaurant was not unnoticed by you when you passed the establishment’s doors. Despite the freezing weather (you’d intentionally dress lightly so Zayne would fret, but he didn’t show up, so how nice that plan was), you strode right off down the street. You got away for about 50 meters before the sound of footsteps caught up and a firm hand latched around your ice-cold wrist, “Y/N, wait”.

You ripped your hand away from Zayne’s touch and continued strutting off. It would’ve been nicer if he hadn’t shown at all - you would have had a grand time giving him the cold shoulder from a distance where he couldn’t grab your hand and make you two resolve this.

“Don’t walk away from me. Please”, the hand came again, and this time it was a lot firmer, enough to pull you to a stop and spin you around, forcing you to come face to face with the last person you’d like to see right now. Before you could open your mouth for a scathing remark, Zayne was already talking again. “How can you dress like this in this weather?”, he was scolding, when you believed the only thing that should come from his mouth was an apology. His brows were drawn into a furrow and with a low, unamused exhale that spoke volumes, Zayne shed his coat to drape it over your shoulder instead, immediately pulling it shut and doing up the buttons once it was wrapped around you. You didn’t even get a chance to shove his goodwill away. Instantly, the scent of his expensive cologne wafted over you from the thick coat. You blamed the warmth spreading over your body on having been freezing two minutes earlier.

Your lips were a thin line, and your eyes purposefully glared off elsewhere, not giving Zayne the grace of a single word. He noticed and dropped his hands, heaving a sigh.

“There was an emergency operation. I meant to text, but there was no time... The patient-”, Zayne began to explain. Now you feel both miserable over the ruined date and guilty for being miserable at all. He said it was an accident, so the blame could not be on him. He couldn’t have anticipated this outcome. The right thing to do would be to empathize with him and swallow your disappointment, since it was an unwanted accident.

“I see”, you nodded, attempting to put up the look of someone unbothered by the night gone wrong, but your eyes didn’t meet him yet. Across from you, Zayne looked just as bothered, clearly troubled that he had caused you to be so distraught that you’d storm out into the snowy weather in nothing but a flimsy dress and a light coat, and now, even despite your words, your eyes still refused his own.

Speaking of that dress you were wearing… Zayne glanced down at the patch of thigh visible under the edge of his coat, and… didn’t he see it had a slight slit over the chest earlier? No, now was no time for those thoughts. Even if you looked very beautiful, and all he wanted to do was kiss that forlorn look off your face…

“I guess that’s fine, then”, you cringed at your attempt to sound normal, only for that bitter pettiness to rise up and accidentally seep into your tone. This was going all wrong. It didn’t feel like you had the right to be upset when it was an accident. A noise between a sigh and a scoff left Zayne’s lips in a white puff of breath, and his eyes darted upwards when he noticed the weather. The snowing was getting worse, but it was the middle of winter, after all.

Wordlessly, he reached over and slipped his hand into your own. You’re freezing, he thought. When you didn’t pull away, he tugged you along gently, leading you back to his car, out of the billowing snow. You let him usher you inside, slumping into the back seat in a heap of fabric and emotions.

“Tell me what you’re thinking”, Zayne asked, his hand squeezing yours. It made you feel slightly worse that he was acting so kindly and you felt like you were acting like a pissbaby. “It’s been a long night”, you replied, a technical truth, “Just… I didn’t know where you were, or if you forgot, and the staff wasn’t very welcoming”. You had to add the last part, to take out some of this discomfort simmering in your guts without making it seem like you were upset with him.

“I’m sorry”, he apologized sweetly.

“You couldn’t have known”.

“I could’ve done something, find a way…”.

By then, you simply went quiet, because this back and forth on top of the night gone wrong was enough to jam a headache into your skull. You had half a mind to escape from his car and run away to find a taxi - you might die if kept confronted with Zayne for another fifteen minutes without the space to sort things out on your own first.

Beside you, Zayne sat stiffly. His eyes seemed calm, but he was rigid, grasping at straws to figure out how to approach this. He knew in times like these, you should probably get the space to sort through the mess first, but his guts’ had been jumbled the whole time he was in the OR and on the car ride here. He might just die if you ran away from him now.

“It’s fine that you’re upset with me”, he spoke after a long pause and turned to face you, his eyes determined. You stared back, knowing he’d see through you first. “You’ve been waiting in this gorgeous dress, looking so stunning just for no one to show. It’s not unthinkable to be upset”. You laughed, strained and tense, “You couldn’t have prevented it, Zayne, it’s not like it’s your fault”. “I’m the one who didn’t show, so…”, he immediately responded. He was growing slightly impatient too - this whole time, one would think you’d be able to show any emotions freely to him.

“Just…”, Zayne spun his body around from his side of the backseat and pushed himself into your space. His frame loomed over you, his eyes frustrated but never once resentful.

“Be angry with me”, he demanded.

“What?”

“Be angry with me. Shout. Yell. Tell me you’re pissed that I left you waiting, that you thought I was a horrible liar when you were waiting in there. Anything. Anything. Don’t just sit there and stay quiet and think you’re doing me a favor by keeping what you’re feeling from me.”

“...”, You stared back, incredulous and stunned by his tangent. That was a lot to think up a reply to.

Zayne took your silence as more stubbornness, and he exhaled in both slight annoyance and exasperation. He grasped your chin with his fingertips, gently but firmly fixing your face in place, forcing you to stay face at him. God, you looked downright tantalizing. You must’ve spent hours at the make-up table, dressing up for him, looking forward to this date, and it all went wrong. He had to make it up to you, stat.

That moment, while he was busy taking every detail of you in, your lips trembled, and his attention zeroed in on your mouth. Those plump lips, calling him in like a siren’s song… His Adam’s apple bobbed, and if he was calm, he’d restrain himself until you two had talked this through.

…But Zayne was tired after the long day, the surgery, and on top of it all, having you upset. He was frustrated that you weren’t talking, and he was growing more antsy the longer this tension dragged out. His wires were all out of order.

He gave into his impulsiveness and pressed his lips against your own.

To his surprise, you melted right into the kiss. He could feel your hand carding into his hair and holding him in place, granting no exit. You were tired too, after waiting so long thinking of him and pining after him in his absence. Now he was finally here, and really, the rest of the night shouldn’t be wasted fighting.

After a second longer, the kiss broke, but Zayne didn’t pull away, remaining close and looming over you still, his eyes lidded and hazy.

“I’m no psychology professional, but may I provide a better method to vent your frustrations?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Maybe now you’ll be more inclined to talk about how you feel?”, Zayne suggested sarcastically. Somehow, between here and there, his hand was now under your pretty dress, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit through your underwear. A low hum rumbled in his throat, and he added, as if casually giving a diagnosis, “It feels damp here, so I’m guessing you're not too upset about this arrangement”.

Now that he’d got you under him in the backseat of his car, there was nowhere else to go. Not that you wanted to go anywhere when his hand was playing with you like this. His ears were tinted pink, but his voice didn’t sound very shy. Perhaps he was already tired from the day, and didn’t have any capacity left to be slow or flustered.

“I can be very persuasive even with more difficult cases”, he added, while slipping your panties down with his free hand. His hand that was just on you moved to your inner thigh and pushed your legs a little more apart. Then he stopped there, casually resting his hands on your thighs. That was your cue to do as he asked.

“Maybe I am still annoyed you didn’t show up without a word of warning”, you grumbled out begrudgingly, “Even though it wasn’t in your control”. Somehow, telling him you were still upset over the night (when it was an accident, all that…) felt more exposed than being spread open by him.

“It’s not as unreasonable as you think”, Zayne nodded and replied in a softer tone now that you were opening up - figuratively and literally. He kissed your cheek, and his hand moved back where you wanted, middle and ring finger now circling your hole, “Good girl”.

You shivered at that little kiss and melted more with his praise. “And what about when you were in that restaurant? You must be thinking some unsavory things”, he chuckled knowingly, still not pushing his fingers in yet, rather teasing you with his barely-there touch. You gave him a look, certainly, said unsavory thoughts were irrelevant now. It was just in the heat of the moment. “I said I wanted you to be real with me”, Zayne elaborated finally, and plunged his fingers in, too slowly. Your toes curled a little at the slight intrusion. It was becoming difficult to listen to him. “I want to know what you are thinking. What you were thinking. Take it out on me”, he coaxed.

You considered it momentarily, but you already knew you’d always give in to Zayne. It was impossible to stay bottled up when he was so gentle and understanding.

“I thought you were an asshole for inviting me out just to leave me waiting in that stupid restaurant”.

“Mhm. I hear you”, Zayne nodded. As you began talking, his fingers pushed in deeper against your tight walls.

“Hah… And… That these waiters are right and you must be a real dumbass dickhead to ditch me when I look so hot”, you breathed out, face dusted in a pretty pink. In hindsight, these were all petty thoughts.

“A ‘dumbass dickhead’? That’s harsh”, he chuckled warmly. His eyes seemed much calmer now, the prior frustration ebbed away when you melted to his touch. He gently curled his fingers a little, pumping the digits in and out of you slowly.

“Ugh”, you scoffed, but that slight annoyance was quickly washed away with a low moan of appreciation. He really knew the body well. “Anything else?”, Zayne continued coaxing, as his fingers thrust quicker, working you open for him.

“Uh…”, you breathed out, growing more and more distracted with the way his fingers were pleasuring you. It did make you more loose-lipped, though. “...Then I was going to go home and text you about what a shitty asshole you are, then block you on everything… so you’d know how it feels to be waiting for nothing”.

“That’s more like it, good girl…”, Zayne cooed in praise when your defenses crumbled, “You must’ve been very disappointed. It’s alright to tell me”. You were finally doing what he told you to do, and let him in on these emotions. He hummed in approval, and removed his hands, instead using them to unbuckle his belt, sliding the zipper down. You whimpered when his fingers slid out of you and glanced down at where his hands were traveling. Despite his supposed calmness, he was far from unaffected by the whole situation. He tugged his boxers down, not even bothering to undress all the way, revealing his aching cock to your eyes. He was hard and straining, his cock twitching as he gave it a couple of strokes, before being unable to keep himself away for any longer, and angled himself down, against your dripping hole.

“Good girls deserve rewards, don’t they? Though I may be inclined to give an even better prize if she keeps talking”, Zayne suggested - this time, his voice was breathy and strained. His breath hitched at the feeling of your walls slowly enveloping his tip, and he rutted up on instinct, pushing a little firmer into you. Meanwhile, you were far too wrapped up in the feeling of his dick filling you up to even think about his request.

“Come on, talk to me, sweetheart”, he cooed beside your ear, breathy and needy as he finally let some of his restraints go, and began thrusting into you slowly, groaning with every drag of his cock inside your tight cunt.

“I hate you. Next time, don’t bother coming at all”, you sputtered - the best petty thing in alignment with your earlier emotions that you could come up with when he was all up in your guts (or so it felt). A puff of white breath spilled from the glossy lips - at that moment, you realized how fucking cold the car was, despite the burning temperature of your intertwined bodies.

A satisfied smile widened on his lips, and he began picking up the pace. “Sure—“, as a reward, Zayne’s body jerked forward the moment the words left your lips, burying his cock tight against your walls.

“…You—“, your vision blurred with stars, as his hips slapped forward again, each word emphasized by a firm thrust, hitting that spot inside you perfectly..

Oh, the third time, that final thrust, would be deli—

Suddenly, Zayne’s warm hands left your body and he pulled out, leaving you empty. The expression on his face seemed to be a total nonchalance, but you knew better than that, and you weren’t so stupid to not notice that it wasn’t the weather that was making the car so cold. His cock twitched with need against your abdomen, and you tried to ignore the precum staining your bunched-up dress in favor of something much more important now.

“You must be kidding”, a sneer formed on your face, arms crossing over the breasts he’d made a point to free from that pretty silk dress earlier, “If you don’t want me, just say it from the get-go”. Despite his claims of not being a professional in psychology, his tricks were certainly working. Because now, you were spilling out whatever indignance was on your mind, instead of bottling up from him.

His eyes burned, a flicker of both irritation and offense flickering through that forest-green gaze. Not want her? What a notion it was… He blinked, and it was gone again, but you knew Zayne well enough to not assume those emotions had disappeared.

“Y/N”, it was a breathy, soft sound, his voice. On the surface, it felt calm and even, but there was a subtle, barely-there exhale at the end where you could sense a sea of emotions underneath. Zayne averted his gaze, and it seemed to take him a moment to recollect. You shivered - it felt as if the car had just grown colder.

“We should probably… use protection”, he said after some time.

“Seriously-?”, you deadpanned - and here you were expecting something a little more passionate than that, especially with his cock on your lap, you sprawled out half naked on the fancy leather seats of his car.

“We need to be responsible”.

“I don’t really care right now”.

“We shouldn’t—“.

“Zayne”, you said firmly, effectively silencing him. “I don’t care. If it’s you, it will always be fine.”

Two pairs of eyes stared at each other in complete silence. Then, Zayne nodded, with a soft ‘alright’. Out of the corner of your eyes, the car thermostat dropped another half degree. At this rate, you two would be frozen shut in here until dawn, but at least you’d be in good company.

Zayne noticed when you shivered, and despite his very aching need, his gentle hand grasped your chin and tilted your head upwards to look at him. It only took one look, as if you’d known him, and him you a thousand lifetimes. - Is this okay? - Always is, with you.

His body crowded over yours, one hand beside your head to hold himself up, and the other running up and down your arm as if to try and warm you in the cold. It wouldn’t matter, you wouldn’t care for the cold anymore in a couple of seconds. Your lips soon met his, a sweet and gentle dance - you had always had a feeling you didn’t need to rush when it came to Zayne. That no matter what, you two would always be. Always together. Your thoughts were brushed away again when his tongue slid past your lips, tasting the fruity gloss with a low hum of appreciation, before breaking the seal of your mouth and finding yours. There was a sense of apology in how slowly he was taking things - Sorry for missing the reservation, sorry for keeping you waiting - you pressed back against him, one hand carding into the dark locks to keep him in place - It’s alright, you are here. Zayne’s body was moving again, slotting itself properly between your slightly spread thighs. His hands pushed at your dress, and his hips stuttered forward on instinct, dragging his aching cock against the soft fabric in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. Your body shifted on your own accord, already impatient for more, earning a hiss from the doctor when he slid himself against your dripping slit. The kiss broke as he drew in a ragged, barely restrained breath, burying his face against your shoulder.

“Zayne…”, you panted right beside his ear. Maybe it was a malicious attempt to make him really lose it, maybe not.

“Yes, sweetheart?”, he nearly whispered, and you felt his hand clenching and unclenching on your arm. His body was hot and heavy above your own, taller frame almost draped over you like a blanket as you two found a comfortable position in the backseat.

“Fuck me”, you swallowed thickly, heat pooling in your guts as you anticipated the effects of those very filthy words. Your hips even shifted against him to grind your cunt down along the length of his pulsing cock, working him up more.

A low noise rumbled in Zayne’s throat, and he jerked back at the sensation of the delicious friction. It might be a little risky, playing with him like this, but you two were already messing around in an empty parking lot anyway, so what was the harm?

“Don’t tease me like that”, he reprimanded softly, though surely deep inside he was anything but calm and collected. He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder and pulled back again to show his face. Sure enough, beneath the mask of calmness were those green eyes, swimming with desire.

Your thighs were split open wide by Zayne’s deft hands, pinned down by his firm grip, not giving any space to wiggle free and mess with him. His eyes were downwards, glued to the way his aching cock was gliding against your folds, grinding himself down against your wet pussy.

“You’re so wet”, he said, as if in awe of the fact that this was very real, happening right now, even if it was hardly the first time you’d done this. Then his hips shifted, unable to wait any longer, aligning himself up with you. Your toes curled against the leather seat as his cock pushed past your hole, his familiarity filling you up slowly, inch by inch. Above you, Zayne’s eyes were fluttered half closed and his lips were hung slightly open, his mind overtaken with pleasure for the moment. You tensed up instinctively as Zayne pushed himself in, nails digging crescents into the expensive leather seat only to let up easily when he bottomed out, your bodies interconnected completely. His hips flushed against your own, and god it was a sinful sight from down here, watching his eyes dilate until the green was hardly visible, veined hand clenching on your bicep to try and rein himself in, while his cock pulsed between your walls with his every breath. You tried and wriggled in his grasp, pushing yourself down against him, and he lost it. Zayne’s hip jerked forward, driving his cock even deeper, and he gave an unconcealable groan of pleasure. Slowly, he began to move, pulling his hips back before snapping forward again, sending electricity up your spine by waves. Frost crept up on the tinted windows of the car as he picked up the pace, and soon enough, the car was filled up by the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin.

“Zayne…”, you mewled his name, and his hips snapped forward a bit too roughly in response. He cursed and shifted to angle himself up so that every rut forward of his cock hit that sweet spot that would make your toes curl. “Y/N”, Zayne answered breathily, brows furled and lips teeth clenched to force himself to some level of restraint. Instead of pressing down and kissing you, he held himself up, eyes raking over every one of your features as he drove you to ecstasy. A snap of his hips and your lips trembled with the stimulation. Another, and your pretty lashes fluttered, the beginning of a pleasure-induced glaze gleaming over those bright eyes. Your voice grew higher and higher in pitch as he moved faster, and God, he could fall apart right this moment… His left hand reached down between your legs, every movement gentle when he found that spot that would make your eyes go white and circled his thumb around the bundle of nerves. “Fuck, Zayne…”, the reaction was instantaneous, and you clenched down on his cock, body tense and shivering when the first orgasm hit, the first of many for the night. Zayne’s mouth closed over yours the moment his name escaped your glossy lips, swallowing any moans and some of his own too. His pace didn’t relent, cock bruising against your walls with every thrust. His hands moved and grasped your thighs, spreading it open even wider, at what would otherwise be an uncomfortable angle, but you were too busy being cock drunk to care. Zayne paused for a split second and hauled one of your thighs over his arm, hand caressing the bare skin as he held that leg over his shoulder. Now he could go deeper, and he didn’t waste any time doing exactly that. His hips slammed against your own, burying himself deep enough to put stars in your vision.

“You look so pretty. You must be punishing me, looking like that”, Zayne’s face tilted inwards, nosing along your calf. A sharp exhale left his lips when he caught the scent of that perfume you’d strategically sprayed on your ankle, and he immediately pressed his lips against that patch of skin, kissing sweetly before latching his mouth on it to suck a hickey onto you. A low noise left your throat, and Zayne’s other hand snaked down to splay against your stomach, both to keep you still as he dragged his cock in and out of you and to just feel you, real and up against himself. “I’m so close already, God, Y/N…”, he breathed against your neck, a noise bordering between neediness and downright desperation, “Come with me, please, sweetheart. I need you so bad”, he practically whimpered against your jaw, and with another sharp thrust of his hips, you cried out his name, gushing around him. Your thighs were locked tight and frozen around his waist, providing no escape from the hold your tightness had on him. “F-fuck, Y/N…”, Zayne was pulled over the edge with you, and with a final thrust, his seed spilled into you, filling you up with his passion. You felt his chest stutter against your own with every breath, and eventually, he slumped against you, body stilling to a drained pause.

“Spend the night at my place. I’ll make you a better dinner”, Zayne whispered against your jaw, before shakily pushing himself up a little to press a soft kiss against your lips.

“...”

“Okay”.

#zayne love and deepspace #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #lnds zayne #lads zayne #zayne smut #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #fem reader #zayne lads smut

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darylslittlebitch · 2 months ago

Text

twd characters asking fem!reader to be their partner

characters: daryl, rick, negan, carl, glenn and maggie.

writer's note: yooo, this one hit different, i ain't even gonna lie. writing all these twd characters confessing had me feeling some type of way, but carl’s??? nah, that one wrecked me. like, i’m straight-up devastated because he’ll never get to ask again… bruh, i’m in shambles. let me know which one was y’all’s fave, but if you say anything other than carl’s, i’m side-eyeing you. hard. anyways, request are open ;)

daryl

You walked cautiously among the trees, your rifle slung over your shoulder and your gaze alert for any threats. The sun filtered through the treetops, casting long shadows over the leaf-covered ground. Daryl was a few meters ahead, his crossbow ready in case anything appeared.

The sound of a branch snapping in the distance made both of you stop. Daryl raised his hand in a silent signal, and you followed his gaze to a small movement in the bushes. His expression hardened as he spotted his target: a plump gray squirrel, moving nimbly between the low branches.

Without wasting time, Daryl lifted his crossbow and aimed with precision. His finger squeezed the trigger, but the squirrel, as if mocking him, moved at the last second, causing the bolt to embed itself in the tree trunk. He cursed under his breath and quickly reloaded.

“Damn fast little thing,” he muttered, aiming again. He fired once more, and once again, he missed by mere inches.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. It was too funny to see this rugged, manly survivalist being outwitted by a tiny squirrel.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the best hunter?” you teased with a smirk.

Daryl huffed, keeping his eyes locked on the squirrel, which was now scurrying up the thickest trunk. He clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated, but unwilling to give up.

You knew he really wanted that squirrel. Maybe the idea of eating it was unappealing to you, but for Daryl, any kind of meat was a blessing. Sighing, you rolled your eyes before setting your rifle down and shrugging off your jacket.

“Let me do it,” you said with determination. The things you did for this man.

Daryl frowned, looking at you with disbelief. “What are you gonna do?”

Without answering, you approached the tree and started climbing with ease. You had climbed many times before when the world was still normal, and the skill had never left you. Your hands found holds in the bark, your feet pressed against the trunk’s crevices, and within seconds, you were at the same height as the squirrel. It stared at you with its small black eyes, assessing whether you were a real threat.

Daryl watched from below, arms crossed, a mix of skepticism and curiosity on his face.

When the squirrel tried to climb higher, you reacted swiftly. With an agile movement, you leaped onto the nearest branch and, with precise timing, managed to catch the animal in your hands. The little creature struggled, snapping its tiny teeth at the air and trying to scratch you, but you had experience handling live prey. With a quick twist of your wrists, you snapped its neck, feeling its body go limp in your hands. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt. It always surprised you how much easier it was for you to kill a walker—or even a person—than an animal.

“Watch out!” you called before tossing the squirrel down to Daryl.

He reacted quickly, catching it in the air with both hands. When he looked at the lifeless animal in his grasp, his expression shifted from surprise to admiration.

“Well, damn… Not bad,” he muttered, looking up at you.

You grinned triumphantly, but as you tried to climb down, your foot slipped on the damp bark. You had no time to react. You felt the air rush past your face as you fell, and in the blink of an eye, you landed on something—or rather, on someone.

Daryl let out a grunt as your weight knocked him to the ground. His back hit the earth hard, and you ended up sprawled on top of him, your hands planted on his chest, your legs straddling his waist.

For a moment, there was complete silence. Your eyes met his, both of you breathing heavily from the shock. You could feel his chest rising and falling beneath your palms, his warmth seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

And then, you started laughing. You couldn’t help it. The moment, the fall, Daryl’s expression—it was all too funny. Your laughter echoed through the forest, a rare, genuine sound in these dark times.

Daryl stared at you intently. Something inside him clicked in that instant. It wasn’t just your strength, your survival skills, or your sharp wit that drew him to you. It was your laughter, your spirit—the way you made him feel like, despite everything they had been through, there was still something good left in this world.

“You gotta stop throwin’ yourself at me, woman,” he muttered in his usual gruff tone.

You smiled, still on top of him. “Oh, come on. Don’t complain. I got you your dinner, didn’t I?”

He let out a short huff, shaking his head. His hands, which had been resting at his sides, hesitated before moving to settle on your hips. It wasn’t a rough or possessive gesture—more like a silent confirmation.

“You know…” Daryl paused, as if debating whether to say what was on his mind. Finally, he sighed and muttered, “You should be my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” you asked, completely taken aback. Out of all the things Daryl Dixon could have said, this was the last thing you expected.

Daryl looked away for a second, uncomfortable, but then he met your gaze again with a bit more certainty.

“I’m sayin’ you should be my girl,” he repeated, firmer this time. “I dunno how the hell you do it, but… I like havin’ you around. I like hearin’ you laugh. I like that you can do this”—he lifted the squirrel in one hand—“without even flinchin’. I like that you’re you.”

For the first time, you saw Daryl Dixon nervous. He wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings, but here he was, confessing something that words could barely contain.

A smile crept onto your lips. “Aw, if you wanted to ask me out, you could’ve done it sooner. I didn’t know you were so crazy about me.”

Daryl scoffed. “Shut up.”

You laughed again and, without hesitation, leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before whispering:

“Alright, Dixon. I’ll be your girl.”

The barely noticeable flush on his cheeks was proof that, for the first time in a long while, Daryl Dixon had found something—someone—worth sticking around for.

rick

The community in Alexandria was calm, with some residents finishing up their tasks for the day. You walked through the cobbled streets with a weapon and a couple of knives secured at your belt. You were always on alert, even in a place that was supposed to be safe.

Since you arrived, you had found your purpose in something more than just surviving. Carl.

Rick’s son reminded you of someone you had lost a long time ago: your little brother. It was a wound that still hurt, an invisible scar that never truly faded. Maybe that’s why you became so close to Carl, teaching him all sorts of things, looking after him, making sure he was okay. You had come to see him almost as a brother, and in reality, Carl saw you as something more too: a maternal figure. You both filled the emotional gaps in each other’s lives, though that didn’t mean your bond wasn’t real.

And without you realizing it, Rick had noticed that too.

The two of you had been in this game of glances, subtle touches, conversations that lasted longer than necessary. There was something between you, something neither of you had fully admitted, but it was there.

But that day wasn’t quiet.

Shouts echoed from the main house. Rick’s deep voice rang with authority, but Carl’s response was just as fierce. From the garden, you and Michonne exchanged a concerned look. It wasn’t unusual for father and son to argue, but this time it seemed more intense.

"I'm going to see what’s going on," you said, setting your weapon down on the table before heading toward the house.

Michonne nodded, knowing that if anyone could calm Carl, it was you.

You climbed the stairs quickly, and as you reached the hallway, you found Carl’s door slightly ajar. From there, you could see Rick with a frown, hands on his hips, jaw tense. Carl, on the other hand, had his fists clenched and his eyes filled with fury.

"You don’t understand anything, Dad! You always think you're right!" Carl shouted.

"It’s not about being right, it’s about you listening, Carl! I’m not going to risk you!"

"I'm not a kid, I can handle myself."

"Not after what happened with the Saviors. Not while I’m still breathing."

Carl scoffed and looked away, visibly frustrated. You couldn’t let the argument escalate further, so you stepped in.

"Alright, that’s enough, both of you," you said as you entered the room.

Rick turned his head toward you, his expression still hard, but his eyes revealed something else—exhaustion, concern. Carl, however, looked ready to keep arguing.

"Carl, come here," you said gently, motioning for him.

He hesitated but eventually obeyed. You guided him to the bed and sat beside him. Rick remained by the door, watching.

"Listen, I know you want to prove to your dad that you can handle yourself," you said calmly, "and I know you can. You’re strong, stronger than you should be at your age… but Rick just wants to protect you. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he loves you."

Carl huffed, still frustrated.

"I’m not a kid."

You smiled fondly and ruffled his hair, making him groan.

"No, you’re not. But to him, you’ll always be a little bit of one. That’s just how parents are, you know?" You lowered your voice slightly. "My brother used to say the same thing when I was too overprotective."

Carl turned to you, his anger softening slightly.

"Your brother?"

You nodded.

"He was younger than me… and I always made sure he was safe. When all of this started, I never left him alone for a second, never let him take any risks. Sometimes he hated me for it, thought I didn’t trust him… but the truth was, I just didn’t want to lose him."

Silence filled the room. Carl lowered his gaze, understanding your words.

"What happened to him?" he asked quietly.

You swallowed hard.

"I couldn’t save him."

Carl didn’t say anything else, but his expression showed that he understood the point. His shoulders relaxed, and the hardness in his face faded.

"You're right," he admitted after a moment.

You smiled and gave him a light push on the shoulder.

"I’m always right."

He let out a small smile.

"Get some rest, okay?"

Carl nodded and lay back on his bed. You ruffled his hair once more before standing up and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind you.

When you turned, you found Rick still in the hallway, watching you with an expression hard to decipher. You said nothing, simply walking down the stairs, with him following closely behind.

When you reached the living room, Rick ran a hand down his face and sighed heavily.

"Thank you… for that."

You shrugged.

"You don’t have to thank me. I don’t like seeing him fight with you."

Rick looked at you intently, and for the first time, you felt like he wasn’t trying to hide what he really thought.

"You’re good with him," he said in a low voice. "Too good."

You shrugged again.

"I just understand him."

Rick shook his head.

"No… it’s not just that. You do more for him than anyone else would. And not just for him—for me too. You’re always there, supporting me, making sure Carl and I are okay."

You bit your lip, feeling slightly overwhelmed by so much sincerity at once.

"Well… someone has to."

Rick gave a faint smile and stepped closer. His presence was warm, strong, reassuring.

"You’d be a great mother."

Your heart skipped a beat.

You blinked, stunned.

"What?"

He held your gaze.

"I said you’d be a great mother. And I’d like… for you to be the mother of my son. Well, of my kids, because Judith loves you too."

Your breath caught for a second.

Rick didn’t beat around the bush. He didn’t say, "I like you," he didn’t say, "I want to try." He just said it outright.

Your throat felt dry.

"Rick…"

He took another step, so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin.

"I don’t want to keep dancing around this. I don’t want to keep pretending this isn’t happening. I want you with me, officially. I want you to be part of my family."

You looked into his eyes, feeling the air between you grow thick with that same electricity that always left you breathless.

And then, with a shaky smile, you nodded.

"I want that too."

Rick exhaled, as if he had been holding his breath, and before you could say another word, he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you.

negan

You walked firmly through the hallways, ignoring the looks Negan’s men gave you. Some with respect, others with caution. You didn’t care. You weren’t there to make friends.

You were the leader of your own group, a woman who had survived hell without needing anyone. When the world had gone to shit, you learned that mercy was a weakness. You learned to slit throats without blinking, to crush skulls with your own hands if necessary.

You had met Negan in an ambush. His men and yours had torn each other apart in a hail of bullets, blood covering the ground like rain. It was a miracle that neither of you had died that night. But instead of continuing the slaughter, you both realized that fighting each other was a waste. Two forces as brutal as yours shouldn’t destroy each other—they should unite.

And so you did.

But there was no trust. No friendship. Only a survival pact.

Although, of course, Negan always made sure to cross the line.

You reached his office door and walked in without knocking.

Negan was sitting behind his desk, Lucille resting against the table and a glass of whiskey in his hand. When he saw you, he smirked in that annoyingly arrogant way that always managed to irritate you.

“Well, well, well… look who decided to pay me a visit. Couldn’t stay away from me, sweetheart?”

You slammed the door shut and walked up to his desk.

“Shut up and listen,” you snapped. “We have a problem with Rick and his group. They’ve been sniffing around our supply routes, and they’ve stolen enough to start pissing me off.”

Negan raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his whiskey.

“Damn, so aggressive. I love it when you get like this.”

You ignored his comment and continued.

“If that son of a bitch doesn’t stop, I’ll handle it myself.”

Negan leaned his elbows on the desk, looking at you with amusement.

“And what are you gonna do, sweetheart? Give him a nice little lecture on good manners?”

You smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly one.

“I’m going to slit his throat like a fucking pig and watch his blood spill onto the ground while his son watches,” you said with unsettling calm. “I’ll gut him with my bare hands and then hang his corpse at Alexandria’s gates so everyone understands what happens when they fuck with me.”

Negan let out a low whistle.

“Damn… that’s exactly the kind of energy that drives me wild.”

He gave you that sly grin, the one he used when he felt especially charming.

“You know, sweetheart, every time I see you, I get more convinced that you’re the perfect woman for me.”

You shot him a warning look.

“Negan, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

He got up from his chair and walked around the desk until he was right in front of you.

“Oh, but I am,” he murmured, using that deep voice he always used when he was trying to seduce you. “And let me tell you something, gorgeous… I’ve seen a lot of things in this world. I’ve met a lot of people—some strong, some boring as hell. But you… you’re a fucking goddess among mortals.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Is that supposed to be romantic?”

Negan smirked.

“And it’s not just about how you look—though, damn, don’t get me started on that because I could spend hours describing it—but it’s because you’ve got balls, sweetheart. You’re no sheep, you don’t take orders from anyone. You’re a damn beast. And that drives me crazy.”

His face was so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

“Negan…” you started in warning, but he didn’t let you finish.

In one swift move, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

But this wasn’t a tender kiss, nor a hesitant one. It was possessive, raw, full of intensity. Negan didn’t ask for permission—he didn’t hesitate. His lips moved over yours with hunger, as if he wanted to devour you whole.

And you didn’t stop him.

You pushed him against the desk, letting your body speak for you. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing firmly. The desk creaked under the weight of both of you as the kiss deepened, growing more desperate, hotter.

When you finally pulled apart to catch your breath, Negan looked at you with those dark eyes filled with desire.

“Damn, sweetheart… I think I just made a decision.”

You raised an eyebrow, still breathing heavily.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

Negan smirked, running his hands down your back.

“That it’s about time we made this official. What do you say, sweetheart? Wanna be the queen of this fucked-up kingdom?”

You stared at him. You knew this wasn’t just a game for him. Negan could be an arrogant bastard, but he never said things he didn’t mean.

And the worst part was that deep down, you wanted this too.

“That sounds interesting, but first I want to assess what benefits I can get from this relationship,” you replied playfully, letting your hands roam over his abdomen, dangerously close to his lower half.

Negan let out a triumphant laugh, enjoying you and the moment.

“Then let’s run a quality check, shall we?”

And this time, when he kissed you again, there were no more doubts. Only fire, desire, and the certainty that together, you would be unstoppable.

carl

The Alexandria infirmary had a distinctive scent of alcohol and medicinal herbs, an aroma that had become part of your daily life. Ever since your father, an experienced doctor before the world collapsed, taught you everything he knew, you had taken on the responsibility of caring for the wounded in the community. And while you had hardened in many ways, when it came to healing others, you still had a delicate touch—something Carl had noticed from the very first day.

He was sitting on the examination table, silently watching you as you pulled out a small jar of ointment. The left side of his face was covered in bandages, hiding the wound that had changed his life forever. Since he was shot in the eye and fell into a coma, you had been the one who stayed by his side, caring for him tirelessly for weeks.

"I'm going to apply this so the scar heals better," you explained as you leaned in toward him. "It might sting a little."

Carl nodded without saying a word. Ever since he woke up, his attitude had changed. He was still strong, determined… but there was a shadow of insecurity in his gaze.

You took a bit of the ointment on your fingers and, with extreme care, began applying it to the reddened skin around his wound. You noticed how he clenched his jaw, but you didn’t stop.

He never looked away from you.

"Carl," you called softly, noticing his silence. "What are you thinking about?"

He looked away for a moment, his only functional hand gripping the fabric of his pants.

"I look like a freak," he finally muttered.

You froze.

"What?"

Carl lowered his gaze.

"Before… I was afraid of people seeing me as weak. Now I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without thinking I look terrifying."

You let out a sigh and set the ointment aside. Without a second thought, you took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"Don’t ever say that again," you said firmly.

Carl swallowed hard.

"You don’t understand…"

"I understand more than you think," you interrupted him. "Having scars isn’t a bad thing, Carl. It’s proof that you survived. You have no idea how incredibly strong you are."

He seemed like he wanted to argue, but your gaze kept him silent. Then, you smiled and gently brushed your thumb across the skin near his bandage.

"Besides… you know what?"

"What?" he murmured, never breaking eye contact.

"You look like a damn pirate now," you teased.

Carl blinked, caught off guard by your sudden change in tone.

"A pirate?"

"Yeah," you nodded with a playful smile. "And pirates are cool. I’ll even make it my mission to find you the most badass eye patch out there."

For the first time in days, Carl let out a small laugh.

"You have a weird sense of humor," he remarked.

"And you have an obsession with thinking the worst of yourself," you shot back with a grin. "So, I guess we’re even."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. Your hands remained on his face, looking at him gently. Carl took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage for something.

"Then… would you be my girlfriend?"

Your smile froze.

Carl didn’t look away. His voice didn’t waver, his posture was firm. This wasn’t a question thrown into the air—it was a declaration.

You blinked, feeling a mix of surprise and something else… something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

"Carl…"

"Don’t tell me you don’t take me seriously," he interrupted. "I know what I want."

You slowly lowered your hands from his face, sighing.

"It’s not that I don’t take you seriously," you said honestly. "It’s just that… there’s an age difference, Carl. You’re sixteen. I’m twenty-one."

He frowned.

"That doesn’t mean anything."

"It does."

Carl shook his head.

"Then… what am I supposed to do with how I feel?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

"I don’t want to hurt you, Carl. But I think someone your age would be a better fit for you…"

"Forget it," he said firmly. "I don’t want Enid, I don’t want anyone else. I want you."

His sincerity completely disarmed you.

Carl was young, yes, but he wasn’t a child. In this world, age had lost much of its meaning. He had matured through hardship, through blood, through death. But that didn’t change the fact that he still had so much left to experience.

"Carl… I like you," you finally confessed, your voice soft.

His eyes widened in surprise.

"Then…?"

"But we can’t be together right now," you explained. "It wouldn’t be right. You need to live more before making a decision like this. Maybe in a few years, you’ll see things differently."

Carl looked frustrated, but also hopeful.

"Then tell me… what do I have to do?"

You smiled tenderly and leaned in toward him.

"Ask me again in two years," you whispered.

Before he could respond, you kissed his cheek.

Carl remained silent, his breath hitching for a moment. His cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t look away from you.

You knew he would take it seriously.

And you… you could only hope that, in two years, the world wouldn’t take him away from you before he had the chance to ask again.

glenn

The expedition had started off well. They had found a half-looted supply store, but there were still enough useful things to make the risk worthwhile. The team consisted of Glenn, Michonne, Rosita, Abraham, and you. Together, they managed to gather a good amount of canned food, medicine, and some tools.

It seemed like a simple mission. But, as always, things never went as planned.

The problem started when Glenn, who was checking the back of the store, heard an unsettling noise. A low murmur, the shuffling of feet growing louder and louder.

"We've got company," he warned, quickly approaching the others.

Michonne already had her katana ready. Abraham gripped his rifle. Rosita peeked through one of the windows and muttered a curse.

"We're screwed," she announced.

And she wasn't exaggerating.

What had been a relatively clear alley just minutes ago was now packed with walkers. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Their groans blended into a macabre chorus as they advanced toward the store.

The only vehicle they had was parked in the back, but the only way to reach it was completely blocked.

"Shit!" Abraham exclaimed, tightening his grip on his rifle.

"Options?" Glenn asked, trying to stay calm.

Michonne frowned, thinking.

"We could wait and look for a way out later," Rosita suggested.

"By then, we'd be completely surrounded," you countered.

Everyone exchanged tense glances. They were trapped.

And then, a crazy idea crossed your mind.

"We can force our way out," you suddenly said.

All eyes turned to you.

"How?" Glenn asked, frowning.

You pointed to a couple of metal shelves in a corner. Some of them were stacked with flammable products—spray cans, bottles of alcohol, even a few lighters.

"We can set off a controlled explosion," you explained. "Something to distract them long enough for us to make a run for the truck."

Abraham let out a short laugh.

"Shit, I like the way you think."

Michonne, always pragmatic, nodded.

"If we're doing this, we need to do it fast."

Without wasting time, everyone started moving things. You used a box of alcohol as a base, stacked several spray cans around it, and then improvised a fuse with an old shirt and a lighter.

"This is insane," Glenn muttered beside you as you worked.

You smirked.

"Welcome to the apocalypse."

Once everything was set, you lit the fuse and tossed it onto the pile of flammable materials.

"Run!" you shouted.

Everyone dashed toward the back of the store. They barely had time to take cover before a deafening explosion shook the place. Shelves shattered, fire spread, and the walkers were drawn to the blast.

They didn’t wait to see the aftermath. Michonne was the first to move, followed by Rosita and Abraham, shooting down any walker that got in their way.

Glenn was right beside you.

"Come on!" he urged, but he couldn't stop looking at you.

His heart pounded—not just from the danger, but from the way you had taken control of the situation. You were incredible.

Finally, they reached the truck. Abraham jumped into the driver's seat and floored the gas as soon as everyone was inside.

Only when they were safely back on the road did they allow themselves a moment to breathe.

Michonne leaned back against her seat with a relieved sigh.

"That was intense," Rosita commented, glancing out the window to make sure they weren’t being followed.

"Intense? That was fucking brilliant!" Abraham exclaimed, turning toward you.

"That was insane," Glenn corrected, but there was a smile on his face.

Abraham chuckled and nudged Glenn, whispering to him afterward.

"If you don’t ask her to be your girlfriend right now, I swear to God, I will."

Glenn fell silent, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

He decided to wait for the conversation to shift before moving closer to you.

When the others started discussing what to do with the supplies, Glenn took the opportunity. He leaned in slightly, his voice lower.

"Can I ask you something?"

You turned your head toward him, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure."

He swallowed hard, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his jacket.

"I... I think it’s been pretty obvious that I have feelings for you, even if I’ve never said it explicitly. But the point is, I like you—more than just 'like.' I want something serious with you. So, my question is: Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

You fell silent for a moment, surprised by the unexpected confession.

Glenn smiled nervously.

"I mean it," he continued. "You're incredible. And I know this world is a mess, but… I think we could find something good in the middle of all this. Of course, only if you want to."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in his gaze. Glenn had always been special—someone you could trust, someone who always found a reason to smile, even in the worst moments.

And yes… the truth was, you liked him too.

You smiled and, without thinking too much, took his hand and intertwined your fingers.

"I do. I want to be your girlfriend, Glenn."

He let out a relieved laugh.

"Well… thank God," he murmured, bringing your intertwined hands to his lips to kiss them.

From the front seat, Abraham smirked as he watched through the rearview mirror.

"Finally! About damn time."

maggie

The sun was setting on the horizon when the group finally returned to Hilltop. They had spent the entire day out, searching for supplies in a nearby town. The mission had been dangerous, as always, but fruitful.

You walked alongside Maggie, both of you covered in dust and sweat. Hilltop’s farm loomed ahead, its imposing wooden fence protecting the community you had helped build.

"I'm exhausted," you sighed, running a hand over your forehead.

Maggie glanced at you and smiled.

"At least we made it back in one piece."

You both knew what that meant. Not everyone was as lucky.

Since joining Hilltop, you had become inseparable from Maggie. Maybe it was because you both shared an unbreakable determination, a need to protect your people. Or maybe it was because, in the midst of so much death, she was the only person who truly felt like home.

And Maggie… Maggie knew it.

Since Glenn’s death, she had built walls around herself. She had learned to survive, to be strong, to not let grief consume her. But with you… it was different.

You made her laugh.

You made her forget, even if just for a few seconds, how much she had lost.

And that terrified her.

As you unloaded the supplies into the barn, Maggie paused for a moment to watch you. Your agile hands lifted box after box, your expression focused yet relaxed. You had proven to be one of the bravest members of the group, someone she could trust completely.

And damn it if that didn’t make her want you even more.

"What is it?" you asked, noticing her staring at you.

Maggie quickly shook her head, snapping back to reality.

"Nothing," she replied with a small smile.

"Uh-huh," you said, raising an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and picked up another box.

"I'm serious. I just… I'm glad you're here."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you decided not to dwell on it.

"Well, I’m not going anywhere," you replied with a playful smile.

Maggie didn’t answer, but the way she looked at you sent a shiver down your spine.

After finishing with the supplies, you both headed to the main house. The night was cool, the air filled with the scent of damp earth after the light rain that had fallen earlier.

Before going inside, Maggie stopped on the porch, gazing up at the stars.

"Do you ever think about what life would be like if the world hadn’t gone to hell?" she asked softly.

You fell silent for a moment, considering.

"Yeah," you admitted. "All the time."

Maggie nodded slowly, still looking at the sky.

"I think you'd make a great teacher," she said suddenly.

You chuckled softly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You’re good at teaching others, at helping… I can imagine a bunch of kids driving you crazy in a classroom."

You shook your head in amusement.

"And you?" you asked.

Maggie shrugged.

"I always wanted a simple life. A family, a farm… something peaceful."

Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and you knew she was thinking about Glenn.

Without saying anything, you took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"That doesn’t mean you can’t have it someday," you said softly.

Maggie looked at you, her eyes glistening.

"You give me hope," she murmured.

And then, without thinking twice, she kissed you.

The world around you disappeared.

Her lips against yours were warm, urgent, desperate. It wasn’t a soft or delicate kiss. It was raw, as if she had been holding back for too long.

Your back hit the door of the house as Maggie deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless.

"Wow," you murmured.

Maggie smiled, biting her lip.

"Too late to back out now, huh?"

You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath.

"Not a chance."

Maggie let out a soft laugh and took your hand.

"Then come with me."

And without hesitation, you followed her inside.

Once inside, Maggie led you to her room, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the wooden frame, watching you with an intensity that made your knees weak.

"I’ve always been stubborn," she said suddenly.

You smiled, crossing your arms.

"Yeah, I’ve noticed."

Maggie sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Since I met you, I’ve been trying to convince myself that this couldn’t happen. That it wasn’t the right time, that it wasn’t right."

Your heart pounded.

"And now?" you asked softly.

Maggie gave you a small, lopsided smile.

"Now I understand that there are no right moments. Just moments we take or let slip away."

She stepped closer, her gaze locked onto yours.

"I don’t want to let you slip away."

The way she said it, with so much certainty, so much emotion, made your legs feel like they might give out.

"Maggie…"

She took your hands in hers.

"I want you to be my partner," she said without hesitation. "I want this to be real. Not just a moment, not just a distraction… I want to be with you."

The weight of her words crashed over you like a wave.

It had been so long since someone made you feel this way, since someone was willing to love you in a world where love felt like a death sentence.

But Maggie… she was willing to take the risk.

And so were you.

You smiled, squeezing her hands tightly.

"Then what are you waiting for to kiss your girlfriend?"

Maggie let out a soft laugh before cupping your face in her hands and kissing you with all the passion she had been holding back for so long.

221 notes · View notes

buckymorelikefuckme · 9 months ago

Text

what a wicked thing to do

vampire wanda maximoff x fem reader

words: 4.2k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** lesbian vampires yes GAWD, fantasy au, inaccurate historical au, smut, fingering, implied soulmates (?? kinda i guess), biting 👀, mention of blood, does this count as hurt/comfort? we shall see!! and uhhh it's kinda spooky ooky vibes but it's not really dark? i think. pls let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: listen..... i've already got spooky season in the brain and i really wanted to reshare this fic. i've edited it a little but i've also left the link to where i orphaned it on ao3 in the title if you prefer reading there~ any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged pls and thank ♡ xoxo

wanda maximoff masterlist || main masterlist

It’s that time of year in between autumn and winter where it’s only getting colder and colder, no reprieve even during the sun’s highest point of the day. Part of you worries it’s a mistake to wander through the woods like this, especially so close to sunset.

But then you remember the briefest moment when you saw her, when your eyes met hers; it happened so quickly, but also felt as if time stopped. Something flashed in her gaze before she looked away and disappeared in the busy crowds of the village.

That moment, as brief as it was, leads you here. You hug your arms tighter to your torso, cursing the bitter wind whipping around you. Your dress had been a bright idea when you’d first thought of it. Now, you’re wondering why you thought such a plunging neckline would be smart, considering the seasonable chill in the air.

Although, you think with a flutter in your stomach, that’s not exactly true. You know exactly why you chose this dress.

There’s hardly any light left in the sky by now. You’re kicking yourself for getting lost in the woods, wondering if anyone would notice, or care, whether or not you return to the village. You have no family, no money, nothing tying you to anyone or anything. You work odd jobs to be able to make ends meet. The people knew of you, but you are sure they hardly concerned themselves with your well-being.

But then, when your gaze had met her own, you’d felt seen for the first time in ages. It was like she could see everything inside your mind, every ounce of longing and every bit of loneliness, even in the split second she held your stare. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since then. Nearly two weeks have passed, and you’d finally decided to find out if the stories that follow her hold any truth. They are quite colorful, full of fantasy and myth, surely decorated to sound more elaborate as the years go on. Fantasy and myth, perhaps, but one particular piece of information continues to remain the same.

She hasn’t seemed to age in the fifteen years she’s spent living near your village. Not one line or wrinkle to be seen on her pale skin. Not one gray hair on her head. Some of the elders even swear they'd seen her when they were children.

Her home is a mystery, one that stays that way out of fear. There is something about her eyes, some say, something off, not quite right. Because of this, no one has felt compelled enough to try finding her home.

At least, not until you.

You’re beginning to think you are truly lost, feeling hopeless, when you finally spot something in the distance. But just as relief washes through you, the rain starts. Each drop feels like sharp, stabbing pieces of ice landing on your exposed flesh, soaking into the thin fabric of your dress. It takes mere minutes for you to become drenched. Your dress is now clinging to your body uncomfortably, the cold even more biting than it already had been.

It comes into view, what you’d spotted several meters back, easier to make out. A looming castle breaks through the trees, windows lit with candles.

Your arms and feet are going numb, but you push through, stumbling your way to a cobblestone path that leads to tall, wooden doors. With a trembling hand, you raise the door knocker and bang it against the door as loud as you can manage, praying whoever is inside will hear.

Your wait is short lived, thankfully. The door creaks open loudly to reveal the very woman you’d been searching for. If she’s shocked to see you, she hides it well. She looks as regal as ever. A black dress hugs her lithe body, her hair perfectly brushed and styled. This close to her, you can see what the people mean. She looks ageless.

“E-excuse me, madam,” you begin, trying your best to keep your teeth from chattering. “I-I’m terribly lost and I d-don’t think I can find my w-way back to the village.”

The woman lets her eyes roam your shivering frame, lingering on your glistening chest for a second, then meets your pleading gaze.

“Of course. Please, do come in. I’m sure you’re cold.”

“Th-thank you,” you reply earnestly.

She steps aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze by.

“Think nothing of it,” she assures you. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, at least until the storm passes.”

As the door closes behind her, you take in as much of the space as possible. With it being nighttime, the candles can only do so much. For a castle, it is rather large, but it’s not quite as foreboding as you would have imagined. Though, you surmise, you hadn’t really known what to expect at all.

“Would you like something dry to change into?”

You whirl around, almost tripping over your feet as her voice registers, so close to your ear.

She smiles, amusement tickling the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps a cup of tea?”

Swallowing roughly, you nod, offering a smile of thanks in return.

“Very good. You should go sit by the fire to warm up while I get everything sorted.”

She points toward a room where you can see flickering light dancing off the walls. You nod again, letting your tired feet follow the promise of warmth. The closer you get to the large fireplace, the harder you shiver, goosebumps rising along your skin. You stand as close as you deem safe, hands held out to thaw them. For the second time, she sneaks up behind you.

“This is all I could manage to find.”

You gasp as you turn to face her. She’s still smiling as she holds up the proffered item of dry clothing.

“You frightened me,” you state dumbly, huffing a quiet laugh.

“I did not mean to,” she replies.

“It’s okay.” You glance at the clothes in her hand, a frown forming on your face. “A… dressing gown?”

She makes a sympathetic face. “It was all I could find,” she repeats.

Her eyes dip down to your chest again. They flash, just like in the village, but you’re sure it could have just been the fire reflecting in them. You look down to see what she’s staring at and heat rushes up your neck. Your nipples are clearly outlined against the wet fabric of your dress.

“Oh,” you murmur as you lift your arms to cover yourself.

She clears her throat delicately. “Take this. You’ll get sick if you keep your wet clothes on.” She pointedly holds the dressing gown out to you again until you gingerly take it. “I’ll go get the kettle started while you change.”

“Thank you,” you return quietly.

When you’re sure she’s gone, you undress as quickly as you can, more shivers wracking your frame as you stand naked in her drawing room for a few seconds before pulling on the silk dressing gown, tying it securely around your waist.

While you wait you decide to get a better look of the room. A few paintings hang on the dark walls, but mostly they’re covered with floor to ceiling shelves and stuffed to the brim with books. You take notice of a few spots where the dust hasn’t seemed to settle in front of them, figuring those must be her favorites. A plush chaise sits in the center of the room with two chairs on either side, atop an ornate rug that rests on most of the floor. There are a couple small tables between the chaise and chairs with candelabras on them, and a wide, lower table in front of them. You spot a desk by the only window in the room.

There’s nothing particularly personal about the space. It almost feels as if she’s newly moved in. But you know that can’t be true, especially since so many people in the village have seen her visit town for years now.

A piece of parchment on the desk catches your eye. You debate over whether or not you should let your curiosity get the better of you, your feet slowly carrying you over to where the paper lay. There’s writing on the top piece, and you get as far as the addressed “Brother,” but then hear her round the corner and quickly back away.

“I wasn’t sure if you took cream and sugar, so I brought them just in case,” she tells you, setting a silver tray on the low-lying table that held the teapot and teacups.

You walk over as she pours the tea into both cups. You pick one up and carefully drop two lumps of sugar into yours, stirring it with your teaspoon until you’re satisfied it’s melted. A careful sip as you sit down and you hum happily.

“Better?” she asks, smiling and taking a sip of her own tea, sitting beside you.

It occurs to you suddenly that you hadn’t asked for introductions. You scold yourself internally, knowing you had better etiquette than that.

“I must apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I never introduced myself,” you say, then offer your name. “And what is yours, madam?”

“You may call me Wanda,” she replies.

“Well, I owe you a great deal for helping me, Wanda. I cannot thank you enough.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Please, there is no need. I’m glad I was here and that you aren’t in danger of freezing to death.”

“As am I,” you respond, laughing lightly.

Silence settles between you. Your mind whirls with hundreds of questions, but you don’t know where to begin. Your plan to find her only consisted of just that— finding her. Now that you’re here, you aren’t quite sure what to do. Or say, for that matter.

You can feel her eyes observing you like a caress. You struggle not to squirm or shiver, though you are no longer cold. No, there is no chill clinging to your bones anymore. Her stare alone provides enough heat. You chance a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, but she catches it. She purses her lips to keep from smiling in amusement.

“So,” you blurt, cheeks pinking, “have you lived here long?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as soon as the words leave your mouth. Stupid, stupid girl.

Thankfully, Wanda laughs.

“Quite,” she says teasingly, like she’s letting you in on a joke.

You nod. “I see. Is it a family home?”

She tilts her head consideringly. “Of a sort.”

What is that supposed to mean? Miraculously, you don’t ask that question aloud.

“Do you… Do you live alone?”

You’re not sure why you ask. Perhaps it’s that you haven’t heard any other movement throughout the castle that indicated a waiting staff of some sort. Afterall, she was the one to fetch the tea.

“I do,” she says.

You don’t want to examine it too closely, but you’re positive you note a hint of longing in her tone.

“S’a lot of space for one person,” you muse in acknowledgment.

She nods. “Indeed. However, I’m sure I’ll find the right companion soon.”

You take another sip of your tea to avoid replying, but are not able to avoid meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes is something you’ve never seen directed at you. You’re hesitant to think it could be want, open desire. Not from a woman like her.

—

Wanda still cannot believe that you’d shown up at her door.

She’s spent months watching you from a distance, never allowing herself to be seen by you—not until she felt it was time. From the very first moment she caught sight of you, she knew. You are hers. Her mouth watered when the wind brought your scent to her. There was not a doubt in her mind about whether she would have you; she simply would.

She had waited, ever so patiently, watching you as you roamed the streets of the village. You didn’t seem to have very many acquaintances, if any at all, and you were always alone. Wanda quickly figured out that you were without a family as well.

Selfishly, she’d been happy about these facts.

Finally, Wanda allowed herself to meet your gaze. It was quick, but she knew her eyes flashed, knew that she piqued your curiosity. It would only be a matter of time.

After nearly two weeks had gone by, however, she had started to think it hadn’t worked. She’d planned on returning to town to purposefully cross your path again, but as luck would have it, you came to her. As soon as she heard the knock on her door, she smiled.

Now, as she sits next to you on the chaise, your skin glowing in the firelight, she finds it harder to maintain her control. This close, your scent is even more intoxicating. Wanda can tell that you’re curious about her. The questions you want to ask are swirling behind your eyes. And now that you’re here, she decides she’ll answer whatever you ask, give you anything you want.

You’ve gone quiet, though, so she does some prodding of her own.

“What were you doing out in the woods?” Dressed like that, blessedly, goes unsaid.

You shyly glance down at your lap. “I, uh, I like to take walks,” you mutter into your teacup as you go to take another sip.

Wanda hums. A plausible excuse, indeed. You carefully lean forward to set your cup and saucer on the table and when you sit back you move your hair over to one shoulder. Wanda’s eyes zero in on the pulsepoint of your neck. If she focuses hard enough, she can see your heartbeat throbbing beneath your skin. It makes her teeth itch, makes her control waver even more.

When she drags her gaze away from your neck, she finds you already observing her. Her desire is clearly reflected in your eyes and the feeling is heady.

—

“Are you warm now?” she wonders.

“Yes,” you whisper, your breathing picking up, making your breasts heave alluringly.

You’d go as far as saying you are overheating. The dressing gown, where you’d been unsure and embarrassed of being nude underneath it before, is now a blessing. Your body feels alight with an unseen, growing fire. Shifting on the chaise, you don’t notice the sleeve slip down your shoulder, only registering the air skimming across your collarbones. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel something cold on your bare arm.

Peering down reveals it to be Wanda’s hand carefully sliding the sleeve back up into place. Your brows pull together in a frown.

“Your hand…” you mumble, trailing off.

She lets it linger on your shoulder for a moment, then slowly traces down your arm, her thumb grazing the side of your breast. Your nipples tighten, thighs clenching together as you watch her fingers stop at your wrist. Though her touch is cold, it feels like a relief against the searing heat of your flesh. You peek at her through your lashes and find her expression to be one of complete hunger.

Feeling emboldened, you hold her stare as you shift to pull the sleeve down again.

Her lips lift on one side, her teeth glinting dangerously. “Are you sure of what you’re doing?” she asks.

You blink, faux innocence shifting behind your eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Wanda takes a deep, steadying breath, though it only helps in inhaling your scent more. She says your name. “Why do you think you are here?” The question catches you off guard. Wanda shifts even closer to you, watching your throat bob as you swallow. “We both know it isn’t because you accidentally got lost in the woods. You were out there with a purpose. What was it?”

You lick your lips, noticing her gaze immediately drop to them. It makes your heart pound in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you reply, unsure.

She leans in, her nose nearly touching yours. “You do,” she whispers, without doubt. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes flutter closed, head tilting back without you being aware of it, exposing your neck. You feel her presence mere centimeters away from you, her breath puffing out along the column of your throat.

“I… I felt drawn here. It feels like I was meant to be here,” you say, quiet, almost hoping she doesn’t hear you.

It feels ridiculous to say it out loud. It’s one thing to have that thought sit in the back of your mind where you could pretend it didn’t exist, but to admit it aloud is entirely different.

“With me?”

You shiver at her words, her lips having softly dragged across your skin. Helplessly, you nod.

“Are you afraid?”

That makes you frown, but you adamantly reply, “No.”

“Open your eyes,” she pleads.

You follow her instruction, wary, but gasp at what you see. Sharp fangs peek out from Wanda’s lips, her eyes so pale they’re almost white now. Though your heart continues to race, it’s not out of fear. It should scare you, it should send you running, but you find your hand slowly rising to carefully trace a finger down one of her fangs, amazed that she even lets you.

“You’re…” You start, meeting her patient gaze once more. “Beautiful,” you finish in a whisper, because she is. You go to reach for her face to stroke her cheek, but she lurches backward. In a blink, Wanda’s on the other side of the chaise. Disbelief paints her features.

“You think I’m… beautiful?”

“Of course,” you state plainly, brows furrowing. Wanda continues staring at you in wonder. “You said I was here for a reason.” Ironically, she’s now wary of you as you shuffle closer to her. “I know what that reason is now.”

“Which is?” she asks apprehensively.

“You,” you murmur, cupping her cheek. “I’m here for you.”

Wanda looks as if she’s scared to accept this, to hope for it to be real. You steal away those worries by leaning in to place a soft kiss to her lips. She inhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut, her cold hands gripping your wrist almost painfully. You give her a moment, kissing her forehead as she gathers her emotions, keeping her gaze down.

“Are you sure?”

Her voice cracks softly, but her grip on your wrist loosens as you move it. You lift her chin so she’s looking at you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She stares at your lips for a few seconds, and then, as your words sink in, they seem to send her into action. She surges forward and captures your lips, more sure, more eager than before. You respond in kind, pulling her as close as possible, sighing into her mouth.

You quickly find yourself on your back on the chaise, Wanda above you, bodies slotting perfectly into each other like lost puzzle pieces. You feel her hand slide down from where it was in your hair to graze along your sternum. Then her hand cups your breast, thumb swiping across your nipple, and you gasp. It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and Wanda takes it.

Her tongue slides against yours and you whine, clutching at her like she’s the only thing tethering you to this earth. It becomes so easy to let her settle between your thighs, to arch into her touch and slide your tongue in her mouth, delicately tracing over her fangs. Wanda shudders, grunting inelegantly before wrenching herself away, panting heavily into the space between you. You blindly chase after her, opening your eyes in confusion.

Wanda’s gaze is intent on your neck, full of desire. The weight of the moment hits you, then. What exactly it would mean if you give in to her. So, with full faith in your decision, you tilt your head ever so slightly and she goes perfectly still.

“Go ahead,” you encourage.

She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

You huff. “I do. I want you to do this.” You know she won’t look at you just yet, so you lace both your and her fingers together and squeeze hers as you continue. “I need you to do this.”

“If I do,” she starts, swallowing thickly, “I won’t be able to stop. You’ll end up like me.”

You duck your head to catch her stare. “And what’s wrong with that?”

She closes her eyes and falls silent for a moment. The weight of your words fall over the two of you like a winter blanket.

“I’ve waited so long,” she confesses, voice quiet, shaking and timid.

“For me?” you ask. She nods. “I’ve been looking for something, or someone, to make me feel whole all my life.” You use your free hand to stroke her cheek. Even with her eyes closed, she leans into you. “I’ve waited for you, too.”

When she finally looks at you, you know there’s no going back for either of you.

“It’s going to hurt,” she warns.

“That’s okay. It will only be temporary.”

She smiles then, slow and teasing. “I can ease the pain, you know.”

Her free hand tugs lightly on the ties holding your dressing gown closed, raising her eyebrows in silent question. You bite your lip and nod, shivering in anticipation. She undoes the careful bow you’d tied, easing it open and exposing your body to her hungry gaze.

If you felt heated before, you’re an inferno now. Her hands reverently map out every curve of your body. She leans down and plants a kiss above your belly button. It makes your stomach clench in want, but you make yourself lie there and take whatever she plans on giving you. Her kisses lead up your torso, until she’s eye level with your breasts, and before you can comprehend her movement, she’s taking one of your nipples into her mouth.

“God,” you whimper, head thrown back as you push your chest into her face.

“No,” Wanda giggles, “just me.”

You try to laugh, but it turns into a gasping moan when she pinches your other nipple between cold fingers. Your thighs attempt to close around her, yet it’s futile. Her free hand begins its descent down to the warm heat between your legs. Your hips buck into her touch, crying out when her fingers make contact with your clit.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make this feel good, okay? Let me take care of you.”

You nod quickly, your mouth going dry. When a single finger enters you, you forget how to breathe for a second, but then she’s sliding it out and back in, setting a steady rhythm, and you’re back to panting and whining. Only a few minutes later, though, you’re wriggling around, begging for more. She adds another finger and picks up the pace.

“Oh,” you gasp, your legs falling open wider.

Wanda buries her face in your neck, inhaling loudly, groaning. She licks across the skin there, nipping at you.

“Wanda,” you whimper.

“I know, my love,” she rasps. “You’re so close.”

Your hands have drifted above you, clutching at the pillows on the chaise, your hips moving in tandem with her fingers. Her thumb meets your clit, adding to the building warmth in your belly. It swells and swells, until finally, it has nowhere else to go and explodes within you.

You feel her teeth sink into your neck at the very same moment, and you can only yell brokenly into the air. Pain and pleasure war inside you, both white hot and searing, marrying themselves into a delicious and lethal combination. You can feel blood trickle down your throat, the same way you can still feel her fingers thrusting into you. It seems to never end and you grow limp beneath her, unable to handle the sensations flowing through you.

She finally slows, removing her teeth and licking over the wound. As her fingers slide free, she brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead with her clean hand.

“Sleep now,” she instructs, kissing you softly.

You can’t even attempt to argue, your body listening to her and promptly sending you into a deep slumber.

—

When you wake, before you even open your eyes, you’re aware of a few things.

To start, you’re no longer on the chaise. You’re on a luxurious bed, which is presumably Wanda’s. Your hearing is significantly better, as is your sense of smell. There’s a low thrum of energy coursing through your veins, like you’re on edge but don’t know why. But the more important thing you’re aware of is the feeling of eyes on you.

“I know you’re awake now.”

You crack open one eye and see Wanda smirking at you from the other end of the bed. You smile and sigh happily.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

You carefully sit up and stretch. You notice her ogling your still naked body and give her a smirk of your own. Shifting onto your knees, you crawl over the bed until you reach her and straddle her lap.

“Hungry,” you answer before grasping her face in your hands and attaching your mouth to hers.

With a force she hadn’t used before, she tosses you backward and is on top of you in a flash, a devilish smile on her tragically beautiful face.

“Good.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #vampire wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #posting this and running

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0798f · 2 months ago

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🎇 — Umemi.

RELATIONSHIP: Wanderer x Reader

SUMMARY: Wanderer welcomes you back from your long trip to Inazuma, and you brought back some souvenirs.

A/N: Day 2 of the Hanami Event! I cannot believe how long this one got (1.6k). Happy spring!

Not that he was counting the minutes, but Wanderer was and it was 20 minutes past when (Name) said they were going to get back from their trip. And it wasn’t like that was an unreasonable amount of time, especially with the poor weather he had observed in the last few days— yet that didn’t stop Wanderer from being pissed at forces out of his control.

It was already utter bullshit that the only study abroad location (Name) could take was Inazuma and it was even more bullshit that they had to be gone for two months.

He thought back to the day (Name) signed up. He looked over their shoulder and scoffed, “seriously? Inazuma?”

(Name) leaned back and laughed, nose brushing with Wanderer’s. “That’s harsh. What do you have against Inazuma?”

The silence that followed was poignant. Wanderer liked to think he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but (Name) was always great at noticing the subtle changes of his expression that let them know they hit a topic Wanderer didn’t want to talk about.

He had no clue why (Name) bothered with him. He was a brick wall when it came to opening up about his past; there was nothing good he had to say about it, and even if he wanted to, there was no way to ease into a conversation about how he was nothing but a discarded puppet that foolishly chased divinity. In spite of that, though, (Name) saw something in him that he couldn’t see for himself.

Another beat of silence flattened the curve of (Name)’s smile. “Well,” (Name) sighed, changing the subject after sensing Wanderer’s discomfort. “I’ve never been. So, I’m pretty excited to study there for two months. Will you miss me?”

They tilted their head to bump their forehead against Wanderer’s. He rolled his eyes but snaked his arms around (Name)’s shoulders, clutching the fabric of their top to keep them close. “That’s a stupid question.”

It was a stupid question because (Name) already knew the answer. The past two months without them were utter torture for Wanderer and no amount of heartfelt letters exchanged between them could change that. That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the small bits of communication they provided— Wanderer nearly withered away in embarassment when Nahida walked in on him attempting a second draft at a reply when (Name) wrote a passionate paragraph about how much they missed him. But it was no subsititute for actually being together.

He waited outside of (Name)’s home, where he could be frequently found the last two months looking even more annoyed than normal. Wanderer paced back and forth, repeatedly glancing at the crowds on Treasures Street hoping to finally catch the sight of (Name)’s grand return to Sumeru.

The footsteps behind him didn’t even make it within 2 meters of him before Wanderer whipped his head around at the noise. An intense glare softened instantly at the sight of (Name), looking startled but not too upset that their sneak attack was thwarted.

“Aw, I wanted to surprise you. I walked the long way around for nothing!” (Name) grinned, some of the tension in their travel weary body dissipating at the sight of their partner. They threw their bag aside and beckoned Wanderer for a hug. “I’m home!”

Wanderer’s face turned a vibrant shade of red, and if he weren’t so happy to see (Name) again, he had half a mind to pinch their cheek for beckoning him for a public display of affection in such a crowded place. (Name) loved to tease, and Wanderer liked that about them more than he cared to let on.

So he scoffed and closed the distance, pulling (Name) into a tight embrace and burying his face in the crook of their neck. Wanderer squeezed (Name) so tightly in some vain attempt to stop (Name) from leaving his side ever again. They squeaked out a breathless whisper, “I missed you too, but I’m gonna suffocate if you keep holding on this tight!”

He loosened his grip just enough for (Name) to take a deep breath. Their arms found respite resting over his shoulders, one hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. It was strange that, even though he wasn’t the one to leave, Wanderer thought that Sumeru only felt like home if (Name) was there with him. Something about their presence just made things click into place. If there was a word to express that, Wanderer wasn’t ready to say it.

The embrace didn’t last long enough for Wanderer’s taste, who thought that maybe he would have liked to hold on to them forever. (Name) tugged on his cape, wriggling away from him and taking the opportunity to kiss him when he looked up in annoyance. It was a chaste kiss, short like the hug but with a sweet warmth that eased him in a way that the Sumeru heat couldn’t compete with. “You were gone for too long,” Wanderer said.

(Name) shrugged. “I was gone for exactly as long as I said I would be! If it weren’t for the storm, I would’ve even gotten home early!” Their hand traced circles along his shoulder blades. “You have such a silly way of saying you missed me.”

Silly probably wasn’t the way most people would describe Wanderer’s attitude, but the fact that (Name) thought fondly of it was a blessing he didn’t quite understand. Wanderer retorted, “I didn’t say anything like that.”

Because saying things like that wasn’t Wanderer’s thing. The brick wall around his psyche was an obstacle he struggled to overcome, too. Sometimes he really wanted to return the same affection (Name) gave, but all he could do in response was sputter out some harsh words.

At the very least, he could rely on his actions. Wanderer kissed them again, his lips lingering on theirs and savoring the sensation. He might have released his death grip, but his hands were still sturdy on (Name)’s hips, grounding them both.

“I got you—” (Name) was interrupted by Wanderer pushing forward for another kiss, and another one after that. Their words come out as breathless whispers between them. “— A gift!”

He didn’t think there was any gift from Inazuma he would want, but he kept that thought to himself because (Name) excitedly broke away from their kiss to rifle through their bag. Just one glance was enough for Wanderer to see that it was filled to the brim with all sorts of Inazuman goodies and treats.

“I don’t need a gift.” Wanderer hoped that (Name) could fill in the last part of his statement: because all I needed was you.

They laughed. “Of course you don’t. But, I got you one anyway because I really like you.”

Are some people just born with the confidence to say such things out loud? Another explosion of red spread across Wanderer’s face and he was glad (Name) had their back turned to him in that moment. Whatever gift they had gotten him was buried underneath an, in Wanderer’s opinion, unreasonable amount of souvenirs.

After enough digging, (Name) struck gold. “There it is!” Their arm emerged from the bag with leather bound book. It looked worn, but in a way that highlighted that it was a well loved book for a long time.

When they handed it to Wanderer, he read the title: The Byakuyakoku Collection. “I saw a really beautiful place called Enkanomiya! It was unlike anything else in Inazuma. I found this book on their folklore, so I’m not sure how much of it is actual history… But, you like discerning that stuff, right?”

Wanderer hesitated to take the book. He had never ventured to Enkanomiya during his time in Inazuma, so it was almost foreign to him— it didn’t carry the same weight of his past like anything else from Inazuma would. He wasn’t sure what he would do if (Name) had brought back a book from that fox’s publishing house.

If (Name) picked up a book from Enkanomiya with that in mind, Wanderer didn’t even know how to begin expressing appreciation in a way that wasn’t behind harsh words. He took the book while also grabbing onto (Name)’s hand.

“... Thanks.” Wanderer struggled to push out the bare minimum and he wanted to smack himself for it. So he brought their hand to his chest and squeezed gently and tried to get a kinder message across.

Their eyes lit up, so Wanderer felt a bit better about his response. “I’m glad you like it! Open it, though. There’s more!”

Wanderer raised a brow, and (Name) laughed again at his skepticism. “It turned spring while I was there. The cherry blossoms were really beautiful!”

Most people loved cherry blossom season in Inazuma, but Wanderer cared little for it now. In his deep cynicism, he would go as far to say that they were overrated. They were just flowers and they bloomed every year— what was special about them?

But they made (Name) happy, so Wanderer supposed he could concede on that. He opened the book at (Name)’s behest and it naturally fell open to a page that had flower blossoms tucked in between them, pressed flat and preserved in their splendor. They weren’t the cherry blossoms (Name) just mentioned, though— they were plum blossoms.

Wanderer looked up at (Name), who looked quite proud of themself. “I didn’t think cherry blossoms would be your thing, though. I saved some plum blossoms for you instead!”

There was something painful about being seen; it burned Wanderer inside to know that (Name) knew him this well because they weren’t afraid to confront parts of him that he thought he locked away. The world was so cruel, so why did he deserve this?

He trembled, and pulled (Name) back to him again, cradling the back of their head with his free hand. The words came easier that time.

“Thank you… Really.” He whispered against (Name)’s skin, pouring everything he felt into those few words.

If only he knew how lucky (Name) felt, too. “Of course. Anything for you.”

hanami event masterlist | masterlists

#wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #f.gi #🎋 — fuji's work.#hanami.2025

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kkoga · 2 months ago

Text

I was all over her , daniela avanzini x fem!reader / sophia laforteza x fem!reader

A valentine special with @ceeaann!!

Warning ! Foul words, harassment, mentions of drinking and also not proofread

Disclaimer ! Every person is not an accurate portrayal of themselves. Everything written here is pure fiction.

Synopsis ! You and Daniela's friendship hang on by a thread, after Daniela's crush, Aaron, had started courting you— even though you had never consented to it.

Now playing ! Friends by chase atlantic, I was all over her by salvie palth

A/N : Sorry about the vague ahh synopsis I genuinely cannot think of one rn so we gotta live w this

Collab masterlist !

WC — 7.05k

Daniela subconsciously tightens her jaw at the sight of you and Aaron together. The girl scoffs, and stuffs her books into her locker. Lara, her best friend, whistles at Daniela’s sudden burst of annoyance.

‘’Girl you good?’’ Lara says, a giggle accompanying her words. Daniela looks to her left, and sees Lara with a smug smile, also stuffing her books into her own locker.

‘’It’s just Y/n and Aaron again.. Ugh.’’

You were one of Daniela’s best friends, and you still are, but ever since Aaron, Daniela’s crush had started courting you, the Latina started drifting away, your friendship hanging by a string.

Daniela, who had told you about her crush on the boy, felt disappointed you allowed him to court you. But you were just too nice to stay mad at, too unimaginably sweet towards Daniela. So the Latina could do nothing but mope about her crush courting you.

‘’I mean, Y/n is nice but like.. I told her about it! I wanna stay mad but she’s so sickeningly sweet, I just couldn’t.’’ Lara indulges Daniela and while the two of them were only a couple meters away from you, they didn’t notice the uncomfort you tried your best not to show out of kindness.

There you were, getting pestered by Aaron for the nth time today. The boy hovered around you like some sort of annoying fly. You felt bad calling the boy that, but he just couldn’t take no as an answer for some reason.

‘’Come on Y/n. Please? Just to lunch this saturday, I pinky promise I won’t bother you for the next few days… unless of course, you want me to.’’ The 6’1 boy says as he offers you yet another rose. Good God, this was like what— the third time he’s tried this week? And it was fucking Tuesday.

‘’I already told you Aaron, I can’t. Can you please stop pressing?’’ You said as you closed your locker with a bang, and Aaron’s smug smile falters for a second, before strengthening itself.

‘’It’s fine. You’ll say yes soon.’’ The boy winks, and heads back to his friends. You wanted to roll your eyes, but your social status was at risk.

Aaron was the schools star quarterback, good looking, tall, and confident. He was every girls ‘’dream’’ guy. That however, didn’t affect you one bit. Because you already had somebody you liked, and this guy just wasn’t picking up on that.

You turned away from him, and noticed Daniela and Lara just a couple meters away from you. You took initiative to wave at the two, with a sweet smile on your face. Lara waves back at you with the same enthusiasm, but Daniela had this awkward vibe around her as she tried to return your gesture.

You turned away, saddened, but you knew why. Daniela told you she had a crush on Aaron a couple weeks ago. Ever since the brown haired boy had started bothering you, Daniela began to maintain distance. It hurt you. Did she really think so little of you?

Besides, she knew you liked someone else. Someone who definitely wasn’t Aaron. As you walked away, someone put their arm around you all of a sudden, and the scent of fresh citrus perfume notified you which one of your friends it was.

‘’Megan! You twat, I almost fell!’’ Megan rolls her eyes, telling you being overdramatic wasn’t a lifestyle. If someone paid you to pummel this girl right now, you would do it for free.

The ginger continued to ramble on about how her physics teacher was an asshole for making them do a paper on rocks. “Goddamn rocks Y/n! Can you imagine me reporting that? Oh yeah, rocks are hard and cool and bland.” To which you replied with,

“He probably meant minerals, Megan. Not straight up bland rocks you idiot. Were you even paying attention?” Megan looked at you with a blank expression. Good God there was not a single thought behind those eyes.

“You're probably right but I don't wanna give you the satisfaction so I'm gonna say you're wrong.” You sighed. Megan was like this every day, so you weren't even surprised anymore.

As the ginger continued ranting about her day— which was kind of crazy because its only been a couple of hours since school had started, and the fact that this girl could ramble about three classes was interesting. You wanted to study how her brain works.

Megan noticed you were too quiet— the sassy attitude you always had just wasn't there. So the ginger paused, and you knew she was silently signaling you that if you wanted to talk, she was listening. You sighed, beginning your rant.

“Aaron’s… all over me again. Daniela has been avoiding me more and more, and it's starting to piss me off. I never even allowed Aaron to court me, yet she's assuming I did! I've been trying to tell her, even saying it straight to her damn face. But for some reason she still thinks I said yes to Aaron in some way. Good God, after being friends for years, you think she'd notice I didn't like men!! Much more, that I like her!!!” Megan patted your back, knowing the whole Daniela situation had been disastrous for you.

Megan stops, and you continue walking. After a second or two, you notice the girl was a couple steps behind you, just frozen there.

“Megan? Why'd you stop—”

“I JUST HAD THE GREATEST IDEA IN HISTORY. Y/N L/N KISS ME RIGHT NOW!!” The ginger yelled, in the damn hallway. You looked around, embarrassed for the both of you. You hurried to her and slapped the back of her neck, reminding her to behave in public.

Other students in the hallway laughed, but most barely noticed, already used to Megan's antics. She was popular as a “class clown”, so it wasn't new to them at all.

You then told Megan to drop her “million dollar” idea. The girl snickered, and replied,

“What if… hear me out… you… move on!”

Oh my God is she asking— no, begging for a taste of school floor right now?

“Megan Meiyok Skiendiel.”

“No no, hear me out! At least try. If it doesn't work, it doesn't. If it does, it does! Try giving someone else a chance. I know like 10 people who'd be willing to be your carpet.” Megan said as she raised her hands in defense. You narrowed your eyes, and rolled them right after.

“Fine. I'll… consider it. And these people you're talking about better be women. I swear to God Megan, if you recommend men to me, I'll fucking kill you for real.” The ginger saluted, and the two of you continued walking to class, talking about whatever on the way.

It has been a week since you and Megan had that conversation in the middle of the school hallway. The girl said she's been thinking about who to send your way, and honestly? You were starting to open up to this idea. Maybe it would do you some good to at least try.

You were sitting on the cafeteria table alone, waiting for Megan and Yoonchae, the recent exchange student who Megan practically adopted, to arrive. Finally, the two were within view, but much to your very unfortunate luck, so was Aaron. Oh you could feel the gaze from behind you. You just knew Daniela was probably giving you dirty looks right now.

“Hey sweet pea!” The boy waves at you, and you physically cringed. Who the fuck calls their crush “sweet pea”?? Your friends looked behind them and saw that Aaron was also on his way to you.

As the two arrive at your table, so does Aaron. The brunet brought you chocolate milk, to which you say thank you. The boy responds by flirting with you yet again.

“You're welcome pretty.” The boy rushes off to his friends as soon as the interaction was over. And once he was out of earshot, you slid the chocolate milk to Megan. The ginger took it with a smile, thanking Aaron for being sweet yet stupid.

Daniela watched the whole interaction from a distance, mildly annoyed but also slightly confused. You didn't like chocolate milk, so why didn't Aaron know that? Good God, he should do his research.

“She likes strawberry milk, not chocolate milk…” The blonde whispers to herself, which Lara catches.

“How'd you know that?” Daniela looks up, meeting Lara's gaze.

“Because we've been friends for years? It's common knowledge once you get close to her.” Lara gives Daniela a suspicious look, and hums, letting the matter go. Lara hit Manon, the girl right next to her, with her elbow. Manon, annoyed, drew her attention away from her phone.

Manon silently asked, “What?!”, and Lara signaled to you and Daniela. Manon rolls her eyes, whispering,

“She'll figure it out soon enough.”

Back at your table, Megan was yapping about, you and Yoonchae stuck listening to this monster yap like her life depended on it.

Everything proceeded as it always did, when all of a sudden, Sophia Laforteza, one of Megan's friends, approaches your table.

“Room for one more?” Sophia said as she pointed at the seat next to you. You weren't sure if it was Sophia being friendly, or if she was someone Megan sent your way.

You glanced at Megan, and her small snicker gave you your answer. You thought about it for a moment.

Sophia Laforteza, the student body president. Kind, smart, and amazing in every way. Was she seriously into you? It seemed too good to be true.

Even if you hadn't moved on from Daniela yet, the girl's grip on your heart still as strong as ever, you were willing to try.

“Yeah, take a seat.” You said as you scooted a couple inches away. Sophia sends you a warm smile, and takes her seat.

“So, what were you guys talking about?” Megan answers before you could, telling Sophia it was about her recent math class with stupid groupmates. Yoonchae rolls her eyes, telling Sophia there was no set topic. Just whatever Megan thought of at the moment.

After a couple minutes of talking, Megan decides the food she bought today wasn't enough. The ginger said she'll be right back, and Yoonchae joins Megan, saying she wants more mango juice.

That left you all alone with Sophia. It was now or never.

“So.. Sophia.. did Megan really, uh— send you my way?” Awkward silence filled the air, and Sophia broke it with a sweet giggle.

“Yeah, she did.” You let out a soft and silent laugh as well, before pausing and looking at Sophia seriously.

“I don't know if you knew this, but i already like someone else and—”

“You wanted to move on, yes? I know Y/n, Megan told me. And I quite frankly don't care. I'll woo you in every way possible, so don't worry your pretty little head about it, yeah?” Pink was an understatement. You were probably as red as a cherry right now, especially because you didn't expect Sophia to be so flirty.

You pulled yourself together, reminding yourself its only been a few minutes since you’ve started talking.

“You’d have to try really hard then.’’ Sophia looked at you with a soft smile, staring at your eyes with a sense of longing.

“What made you think I wasn’t going to give it my all?’’ Okay, being flustered was totally not your thing. The two of you continued talking, a slight tension appearing every now and then. Until finally, Megan and Yoonchae arrived with more food and drinks.

Daniela, Lara, and Manon got up from their seats, already finished with their food. Daniela glances at your table, and sees you chatting away with Sophia. The Latina pays no mind to it, thinking it was just friendly interaction. But Lara, however, noticed. The Indian, always equipped with the best instincts when it comes to love, easily noticed the way Sophia looked at you, the way she seemingly gravitated towards you, and the way her overall body language basically screamed “I LIKE YOU!!’’.

You walked by Aaron, already prepared for the boys pestering. As if on cue, Aaron calls your name, and you reluctantly turn around.

“Y/n! Hey! Wait up!’’ The boy jogs towards you to catch up, and offers you a piece of paper. You look at him weird, until you realize it was his fucking number.

“Look.. I just very recently realized we’ve never exchanged numbers. Just hit me up, I’m free for you any day baby girl.’’ You laughed awkwardly, and tried to end the conversation, but Aaron kept pushing, telling you to just say yes to his date planned for Saturday.

Just as you were, once again, gonna turn the boy down, Sophia unexpectedly stepped in.

“Hey Y/n! Oh and… Aaron. Hi. Sorry, I have important matters to attend to with Y/n, can I take her away for a while?” Sophia had this stern and commanding stare, accompanied with a friendly smile.

Before Aaron could respond, you clung onto Sophia's side, and told Aaron you both should really get going. When the boy asked why, Sophia sternly responded it was “personal matters”.

After a couple minutes of walking away from the boy, you let go of Sophia's hand, apologizing.

“Uh… sorry. And thank you.” Sophia told you it was nothing, and followed up with a question.

“It's fine, really. Also, if you're comfortable with it, why is he still bothering you? I heard rumours about you and him, saying you agreed to the courting. The interaction I just witnessed says otherwise. Mind telling me why?”

“I honestly don’t know why he keeps persisting. I very clearly said no, multiple times even. Guess he never really got the hint.’’ Sophia hummed,

“Just let me know if you need help. I’ll be your knight in shining armor.’’ The Filipina said with a light and joking tone, softening the once tense atmosphere.

“Oh, gladly. I can’t believe men like him actually exist.’’ You sighed, and shaked your head.

“Let’s change topics. Why’d you approach me?’’ Sophia shifts her gaze to the direction they were heading.

“I noticed you were uncomfortable. I didn’t have anything to tell you, just thought you needed some help.’’ You nodded, thankful for the girl's help.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to class.’’ The girl said as she held her hand out. You took it with no hesitation, a smile appearing on both your faces.

It was currently 11pm. An ungodly time to be out and about, especially at some random person's party. You weren't exactly the party type, unless you of course, had some steam you needed to blow off.

But today wasn't that type of day. You had no problems to run from, no nothing. You were dragged by Megan and Yoonchae to attend this party hosted by— what was their name again?

Jennifer. You were at a party hosted by a friend's friend's friend, Jennifer Huh.

In all honesty, if you could, you would have left this place ages ago. But you couldn't say no to Megan's puppy eyes, asking you to pretty please drive her home.

Now, you weren't exactly sure where the ginger was right now. She and Yoonchae had left you by yourself about an hour ago.

You were just sitting there, at the corner of Jennifer's house, looking lonely— like some sort of lost puppy.

All of a sudden, some random guys approached you.

“Hey, you lonely?” Said the one with a haircut rivaling the horridness of a bald cut. Honestly? You'd rather go bald than have… whatever haircut he had.

“Let's have some fun, miss.” Another guy said. You took one look at his horribly dyed hair. Was this supposed to be blonde? Or was he going for the dog pee color? You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

From a distance, Daniela could be seen looking at you and the men with a frustrated glare. You seemed to be uncomfortable, so the Latina moved closer to the whole ordeal.

The third guy grabbed your hand, and you tried to pry him off you, your fight or flight instinct so close to applying itself to the situation.

“Let me go—!” Daniela's eyes widened, and just as the Latina was about to run to your side, Sophia makes it there first. Like the night and shining armor she claimed to be.

“Hey, she told you to let go.” Just as the men were about to argue, they recognized her as the student body president, and didn't persist, leaving as soon as they realized.

Sophia looks at you with a worried look, carefully examining your body for any wounds or scratches.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” You nodded, tears threatening to fall. Daniela slows down, the girl letting go of a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

Sophia cupped your face, and tilts your face to the left and right. The Filipina sighs, relieved the men didn't do anything worse before she arrived.

Daniela looked at you and Sophia with a cold stare, and subconsciously strengthens her fist. She didn't know why she was so annoyed. Maybe it was because of those boys harassing you. Daniela walks away from you two, thinking you'd be fine because Sophia was there. But deep down, Daniela, in the back of her mind, had thought,

“You'd be safer with me.”

But the Latina pushed it down, thinking it was the booze getting to her.

Back with Sophia, you were so overstimulated. You just went through two hours of constant loud music with no one to talk to, and all of a sudden, you had gotten harassed. You wanted to go home so bad, and Sophia, ever the observant person, picked up on that.

The Filipina wiped a tear threatening to fall from your eyes, and spoke in a gentle tone.

“Hey, it's gonna be okay. Here,” Sophia extends a hand to you, “Take my hand, and I promise I'll take you away from all of this.” You mouthed a thank you, and gladly accepted her help.

Within minutes, Sophia got you out of that God forsaken party, and led you to a park nearby. The two of you sat on the swings, the silence of the night as comforting as it could get. Sophia understood you needed some time to yourself, but stayed. Knowing that sometimes, words weren't needed to comfort someone. Just her company alone should have some effect.

After a few minutes of calming down, you break the silence.

“... Thank you. I can't thank you enough.” You turn your head to face Sophia, but the Filipina, for some reason, had her eyebrows furrowed.

“Don't ever thank me for that. It was a normal way to handle things. I'm hurt you even thought you'd have to say thank you.” Sophia relaxes her eyebrows, a soft and slight frown neatly displayed on her pretty face.

“Still— thank you.” Sophia humms, acknowledging your gratitude.

The two of you just sat there, under the beautiful moonlit sky, peacefully swinging on the swings.

After what you thought to be a couple more minutes, you realized how late it had gotten. You hurriedly checked your phone, and saw a text message from Megan, saying,

“Hey girl so u kinda left me here so I'll js grab a lift from fine shyt 😛 and don't you worry I'll tell you ALLLLL about it tomorrow. Peace out xx” You sighed in relief.

“Hey.. Soph? It's getting late. We should get going now.” Sophia felt her breath hitch. You've never called her any sort of nickname before. And “Soph”? It hit right in the best way possible.

“Yeah, you're right. I'll… I'll get a taxi now. See you soon, Y/n.” The Filipina immediately stood up, and quickly opens her phone, hoping to mask how flustered she currently was.

As the Filipina was about to leave, you grab her arm,

“Or you could… hitch a ride with me?” You say as you pull your keys out, dangling them in front of Sophia's face.

“I can drive you home. It's the least I can do— especially after what you did today.” You noticed a slight tint of pink on Sophia's cheek, a slight smile finding its way to you.

“Yeah… that would be great.” Sophia reaches her hand out, and you take it,

“Well then what are we waiting for?” You say as you lead the way. Sophia was thankful you were leading this time, unable to see the blushing mess she currently was. The sudden change in demeanor was a bit freaky, but she liked that about you. She was sure of that.

You were chilling on your bed at 10 am in the morning, when all of a sudden, a text from an unknown number had sent a notification on your phone.

“Hey, is this Y/n?”

You furrowed your brows, who the hell was this? When all of a sudden, you remembered how you and Sophia had exchanged numbers last night, as you dropped her off at her home. You sent a reply, not too chalant, but not too nonchalant either.

“I’m assuming this is Sophia?’’ After a couple seconds, you get a reply back.

“Yes. I know it’s kinda shitty to do this on text, but are you free today?’’ You looked at the calendar hanging on your door. As far as you were concerned, the fact that you were currently still in bed, at 10 am in the morning, meant you were as free as a highschool student could possibly be.

“Yes.’’ You sent a follow up text,

“Are you taking me out on a date Laforteza?’’ It took a while, but your phone buzzed, indicating a reply.

“You caught me there, but yes, I’d very much love it if you’d be so kind to yk say yes?’’ You giggled at how dorky Sophia could be.

“12 at Angelina’s? Yk that new café down the street from school?’’ You looked at the clock. It was currently 10:12 am. You had enough time to prepare. So as you got up from bed, you sent Sophia a final text.

“Sure.’’

Sophia stood outside of the café, patiently waiting for you to show up. And as if on cue, she sees you approach her. Sophia felt the world stop.

There you were, walking towards her with a stupidly cute and soft smile on your face. You were wearing an oversized blue football jersey, exposing your left shoulder as it hung, your bra strap visible. You had baggy jeans on, white shoes accompanying them.

You were now only a foot away from Sophia. You were apologizing about being a bit late, but it fell on deaf ears. Your glasses. Sophia had never seen you wear glasses before, and oh God did she wish she had. You looked so… breathtaking.

“...ello? Hello, earth to Sophia? Are you upset about me being late?’’ Sophia shaked herself out of whatever homosexual trance she was in, and actually paid attention to you. She can’t believe such a simple outfit had her drooling like she was some dog.

But now that you had this slight pout on your face, genuinely worried if you had upset the raven haired girl, Sophia reminds herself why she was so enamoured in the first place. If the cuteness aggression she had towards dogs was strong, the cuteness aggression she had for you right now was definitely stronger.

“Uh… no no, it’s not that. You just look..’’ Sophia looks you up and down, “Amazing.’’ You blushed, telling her flattering words won’t get her anywhere.

“I beg to differ, because my flowery words have gotten me this date with you, hasn’t it?’’ You giggled,

“Whatever floats your boat Sophia.’’ Like clockwork, Sophia extends her hand for you, and you take it. The two of you enter the café, and spend the rest of the afternoon together.

You stood at the entrance of Disneyland. It's only been a couple minutes since your original meeting time has passed.

“Y/n!” You heard your name being yelled by Sophia, and turned around, wondering which direction the girl's voice came from.

And there she was, in all her glory, with a cute oversized red sweater that fit her in all the right ways, accompanied with some light oversized jeans.

You jogged towards her, and giggled at her choice of clothing.

“What's so funny?”

“A sweater? Sophia, it's the middle of the day in Los Angeles. You're gonna start sweating before we even enter a single attraction.”

“Wha— I can't choose what I look good in okay?!” You both entered the gates, a soft atmosphere surrounding you two.

After what seems to be hours, you and Sophia were now right in front of the roller coaster attraction. To say you were scared shitless of roller coasters was an understatement.

“I.. I don't know Soph. I can’t..” Sophia looked at you endearingly. The Filipina proceeded to speak to you with a soft tone.

“Hey, we don't have to if you don't want to. But… will you trust me on this?” Sophia extended her hand, with her stupid cute doe eyes. How could you say no?

So with a heavy heart, you took her hand, and stepped on the roller coaster. As the two of you strapped on, Sophia kept her fingers tangled with yours.

“Just hold on to my hand. If things get too scary, then squeeze them, okay? Don't worry, I'm here.” You nodded, as you mumbled small thank you.

Needless to say, you hated the ride. It was scary, dangerous, and overall not your thing. But maybe, just maybe— maybe it was worth it. Worth it to see Sophia smile like a little kid, giggling after you had gotten off the ride. A smile you couldn't help but return.

It's been about a month since you've been in a situationship with Sophia. Needless to say, you've been happier these past few weeks. But no matter how much Sophia was around you, Aaron, the dumb asshole he always was, still hasn't gotten the damn hint.

“Why are you playing so hard to get?” You were not in the mood for this. It was 8 am in the morning, and you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

“Look,” You faced Aaron, as you held your math and science books in your hand. “I'm not in the mood, Aaron. Just leave me alone.”

Aaron let out what seemed to be a mocking laugh, and grabbed your hand as you tried to walk away.

You accepted your fate, too tired to actually give a fuck, when all of a sudden, two people appeared by your side, slapping Aaron's hand away.

Those two people were Sophia and Daniela.

Sophia you expected, given the Filipina has been doing so for the past few weeks you've known each other. But Daniela?

The Latina hasn't spoken to you in weeks, almost as if you've never known each other at all. It was quite funny really. But you somehow managed to pull through— all because Sophia had been distracting you from the hard truth.

Daniela stepped forward, pointing a finger at Aaron, rage written all over her face.

“Don’t you ever lay a hand on her. You fucking mutt. Learn your damn place.’’ As Daniela was confronting Aaron, Sophia checked your wrist, and noticed red marks left by Aaron’s tight grip on you. Oh she was livid.

Both Daniela and Sophia were seething from the way Aaron had just treated you, and you know… free will?

“Oh please, I wasn’t doing anything wrong! Your friend over there was just playing hard to get.’’

“Listen here you—’’ Before Daniela could finish her words, Sophia stepped in.

“Veronica. Kaylee. Rhianna.’’ You and Daniela looked at Sophia with a confused stare. What the hell did they have to do with this?

But for some apparent reason, Aaron looked like he wanted to shit his pants.

“You want me to list more names, Aaron Williams? I know more shit about you than your side hoes do. So get your shit together, and never approach Y/n ever again. One more action— one more stupid little spectacle, and I will make it my life's mission to get you kicked out of this damned school. Am I understood?’’ Silence filled the halls, and after a few measly seconds, Sophia spoke again.

“I said, Am I understood!’’

“Ah— yes! I'm s—sorry.’’ Aaron stumbles with his words, and leaves the scene as quickly as he could, scared shitless, not wanting to face the consequences of his actions.

You sighed, glad the whole ordeal was finally over. The two girls shifted their attention to you, worry visible on both faces.

Daniela slightly opens her mouth and closes it almost immediately, as if she had wanted to say something but held back. Sophia however, did not hold back.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you any more than that?” You reassured Sophia, but the Filipina couldn't stop worrying.

In the midst of it all, Daniela stood there, right next to you and Sophia. But for some reason, it felt as if she was watching from a distance— like she didn't belong there. You looked so happy, and the Latina felt her presence there was not wanted.

It was, after all, her who had started avoiding you for getting harassed by that man— albeit not knowing what he was really like, or that you had never consented to the “courting”.

If she could take it all back— she’d do so in a heartbeat. Daniela felt as though she was extending her stay, so after taking one more look at you, Sophia cupping your cheeks and you telling her you were really fine, the Latina quietly stepped back.

Daniela watches you from a distance, hanging out with Megan, Yoonchae, and Sophia. For some reason, Daniela felt so… weird.

The Latina stares at her hand— the one she used to slap Aaron’s hand away from yours. She doesn’t know why she’s been thinking about it so much. Aaron was straight up harassing you— her friend—so of course she stepped in! Even if she liked him! But for some odd reason, calling you just a friend hurt.

She tries to shake herself out of it, but her eyes land on you, currently getting spoon fed by none other than Sophia Laforteza. Your friends were cheering her on, looking at you two like you were the sweetest couple in the world.

Her stomach twisted. Daniela thought about all the times Aaron was around you— all the times she felt “jealous” of you being courted by Aaron. But now that she was watching you and Sophia, now that someone else had suddenly been too attentive towards everything you say— been too sweet for her liking, Daniela second guesses it all. Did she truly like Aaron? Yes. But was that uncomfortable, gut wrenching feeling of jealousy directed towards you?

Daniela took a few short breaths. It hit her like a train. She wasn’t jealous of you— she was jealous of Aaron.

The light in Daniela’s eyes disappears once she sees you look at Sophia in a certain way— like you were starting to fall for the Filipina. Daniela grits her teeth, a pained expression visible on her face. Lara, who was right next to the Latina, asked what was wrong.

“It’s nothing Lara.” Daniela’s reassurance made Lara worry even more. She never calls her Lara— only Lars or some other teasing nickname like “Dumbass” or “Bitch”. So Lara knew this was serious.

The next few weeks were devastating for Daniela. The sudden realization of her feelings for you was crushing enough— but the fact that Sophia was now openly courting you intensified her heartbreak.

On the other hand, things have been going well for Sophia. She’s finally able to pursue the person she’s been liking for the past few months— the only reason why she didn’t do so in the first place being the fact that you explicitly made it clear you were not interested in a relationship.

But after Megan Meiyok, your friend, approached her and let her know you were in the market— the Filipina jumped at the chance.

After you had told her about your feelings for someone, although she did not know who you liked so much, Sophia sympathized with you. She made it her mission to make you fall for her— to be the one you admire the most.

And with every date, every conversation, every time you had accepted her hand—trusted her— Sophia was sure she fell even more in love, if that was even possible. You were amazing, kind, reassuring, and the only person who had her heart. The past few months she’s spent with you were by far the best in her life. Your laugh, your smile, your stupid doe eyes— had her captivated.

Sophia wanted nothing more than for you to be hers— and for her to be yours.

It was currently the music festival, and you were with Megan. Megan, the hyper little bitch she was, had been running around trying stuff from different stalls. Just a couple minutes ago the girl had eaten food with peanuts in it, her peanut allergy kicking in.

“This has… what now?” Megan awkwardly laughed, looking at the food in her hands with an obvious bite on it, and the person selling.

“Peanuts girl— it’s got peanuts in it.” Your jaw dropped, and just as you were about to call school staff, or maybe even run around trying to find anyone with an epipen, Megan brushes it off.

“Oh its fine, I’ve got an epipen with me. I came prepared.” With a smug and confident smile, Megan takes another bite out of the cake. You had no idea how this girl was still alive.

It was in fact, not fine. Her peanut allergy kicked in almost immediately after the second bite, and Megan began scrambling for her epipen. She struggled, only to find it at the bottom of her bag. You swore you were going to kill her before her allergy gets to her first.

It was starting to get late, the sky turning into a familiar dark shade of blue. You and Megan walked around a bit more, and reached the middle of the festival. Here, everyone was gathered to watch what seems to be a performance of some sort.

“The festival is coming to an end, so we'll be finishing it off with a bang!” The singer says, and their drummer starts it off with a “1 2 3 4!”

All of a sudden they started playing what seemed to be Tokyo Ghetto. Their lead singer had started singing in Japanese, which was to be expected since he himself was supposedly Japanese. Some girls yelled his name, squealing. “Oh my god Ni-ki!!”

You were vibing with the music, until you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around, a bit spooked, only to find Sophia looking at you with a gentle smile.

You returned her cheerfulness, and the two of you just stood there, admiring the music. In the middle of it all, fireworks had suddenly started popping, which scared you. You hated loud noises— especially if you didn't know they were going to happen.

Your breathing started getting faster— more erratic than you wanted it to be. You didn't notice how or why, but you were starting to get overstimulated.

No, scratch that, you already were overstimulated. The fireworks were just what sealed the deal.

Sophia noticed your discomfort almost immediately. Sophia gently tilted your head to face her. You looked at her with a confused and tired face. The whole going around campus had you exhausted.

Sophia looked at you with a worried but gentle smile. She softly covered your ears, mouthing, “Let's go?” You nodded. Of course she came to your rescue once more. You shut your eyes, hoping to get away from all the noise.

Sophia quickly grabbed your hand, and dragged you away from the crowd. After a few minutes, you were both now in the parking area, far away from where all the ruckus was.

Sophia gently tapped your ears, and you slowly opened your eyes.

You were met with Sophia, looking absolutely ethereal. Even under the moonlit sky, her beauty was still visible— rivaling even the moon itself.

You calmed yourself down, feeling thanks to comforted Sophia's presence.

Sophia took a deep breath, and started speaking.

“I… I know this isn't the best time Y/n, but still. I just— I wanted to let you know. I know it's obvious that I like you, but…” You look at Sophia. It felt too early. You liked the girl, yes. She's been nothing but understanding and amazing— but.. but Daniela.

“I love you, Y/n L/n. I want you to know that I love you. Even through all my hectic schedules, sleepless nights, you've been the only thing I could look forward to. Day and Night I think about how lucky I am to have had the chance to even be your friend, much more this. I'll treat you as my world, if you promise to treat me as yours. So, Y/n L/n, will you take my hand, and accept my faulty but sincere confession?” Sophia reaches out her hand, hoping— praying you'd take it.

But you hesitated. An image of Daniela suddenly appearing in your mind— her sweet smile, the very one you fell for all those years ago, flashing as a memory.

Sophia took one look at you, and knew your answer. You've never hesitated in taking her hand. So she knew. She knew your answer.

Sophia sighs, and puts her hand away. Just as you were about to say sorry, the Filipina cuts you off.

“Don't. It's not your fault. I don't want nor do I need your pity.” Despite the sadness written all over her face, a tear threatening to fall, Sophia shot you a reassuring smile.

“You still like her, don't you?”

With an ashamed nod, you bit your lip and mumbled a yes. Sophia raised your head to look at her straight in the eye.

“Hey, I'm gonna be fine. You know me Y/n. But if you're gonna reject me this way, all because you couldn't move on and still continue to mope over someone you haven't even confessed to, then I just feel mocked.” Sophia's face turned serious,

“So you better get with Daniela, or else I'll kick either you or her in the shin.” Sophia laughed it off, but the guilt was starting to overwhelm you. Sophia noticed you were now shaking, and noticed how cold it had gotten.

The Filipina swiftly takes off her varsity jacket, and places it around you. She pats the jacket down, just so it could fit you perfectly.

She reaches her hand out, and looks at you with a pained smile.

“Let's head back?” You hated how considerate she still was. How she ignored all the pain she felt when you had rejected her— all because she prioritized your feelings first. You nodded, and took her hand.

It's been a week since the music festival. Sophia was still kind to you— too kind. To the point where no one knew about what had happened, except Yoonchae and Megan until she told her other friends.

Sophia was still your friend, so she greeted you, Megan, and Yoonchae more often than not.

Daniela has been in and out of it lately. She's been wanting to confess to you the moment she realized her feelings, but she knew she had to mend your friendship first. So here she was, with Lara and Manon, currently seated at your table. She apologized to you a couple days back— but she knew she had to do more.

Daniela has been by your side for the last few days, hoping to make amends. You hated how easily she can just slip back into your life, how easily she could just barge back into your heart.

As the whole table chit and chattered, everyone in some sort of conversation, Daniela handed you a note, and mouthed,

“Open it later.” You nodded, wondering what it was about.

It was now math class. Well, before math class was about to start but that's besides the point. You grabbed Daniela's note from your pocket, and it read,

“Dismissal, 5pm, school gym.” You wondered what this was about, but you were going to go nonetheless. It's not like anything major was going to happen anyway.

“Hi.” Daniela said as she stood in front of you.

“Hi Dani. What's this for?” Daniela looked hesitant, but the Latina continued speaking.

“I… I know I apologized. But… still. I'm sorry about the whole Aaron thing.” You chuckled, and told her it was okay— that you didn't really mind. Even if you did.

“Look I—” Daniela sighs, “I recently realized. I was never…”

“You were never..?”

“I was never jealous of you. I was… I was jealous of Aaron.” Daniela says as she fidgets with her fingers.

“I know, this may be kinda shitty but… all this time, the only person I truly liked was you. I don't know how it slipped past me, but it did. I'm so sorry for the way I treated you, and everything else.” Your breath hitched. Was this seriously happening right now?

Normally, you'd say yes in a heartbeat. You've been waiting for this for so long— but Sophia's confession rang in your head. You remember her telling you to choose wisely. To make sure whoever you were going to be with was worth it.

After all Daniela had done, you weren't so sure anymore.

“I…”

“Just— a chance is all I need, Y/n. I won't mess this up. I promise.” You wanted to say yes, but you couldn't.

“... I need time, Daniela. I know I said I forgave you but— it still hurt me nonetheless. Prove to me. Prove that you deserve to be the one to hold my hand, to be the one I call mine.” Daniela held your hand, and brought it to her chest.

“Of course.”

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