#Y TEETH HURT SO BAD I . WANT TO EAT HIM | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chahnniesroom · 2 months ago

Text

cross my heart

pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader

summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.

word count: 4.0k

tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)

a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅

read it on ao3 | masterlist

It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends.

You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.

Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.

The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.

The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.

Well, apart from one thing.

The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.

You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaiming when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you're always been a bit too sensitive.

You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.

Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.

You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.

—

The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.

There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.

You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.

And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.

You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.

You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.

You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.

You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.

You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.

“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”

“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”

“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.

“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”

“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”

“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”

“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”

After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.

“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”

“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.

“I know that she has an exam tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”

“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”

“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”

“I saw her at the library.”

“Okay,” Chan says slowly.

“She was with someone else, a guy.”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard. “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”

“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.

“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”

“No- but, I-”

“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.

“What? Why would I make this up?”

“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”

“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”

“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”

“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”

“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”

“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”

“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.

“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.

“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.

Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.

—

The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.

Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.

“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.

“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious.

In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.

While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.

“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”

“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.

“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”

“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”

You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming.

“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.

“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.

Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.

“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”

“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”

“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”

“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”

“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”

“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”

“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”

“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”

“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.

—

You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.

It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.

Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.

“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”

“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.

“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.

The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.

Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.

He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.

“Y/n,” he says gravely.

“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.

“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.

“Okay? What did they say?”

Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.

“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“What?” You can't believe your ears.

“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”

You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.

“Do you know why?”

“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.

“Oh.”

“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone.

“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.

“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”

“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”

“Y/n-”

“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”

Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.

—

A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced.

You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.

He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.

“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”

“Ah, Hayoon.”

“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.

“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”

“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”

For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.

“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”

“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.

“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”

Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.

“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”

“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”

“Y/n?” Chan pleads.

“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”

“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”

You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

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ashwhowrites · 8 days ago

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Can you do either Steve or Eddie x reader. Reader was being clingy and then Steve or Eddie tells them to leave them alone so they can finish work but then feel bad and apologize by eating out the reader

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Apologies

Eddie had been locked in on a new idea for his campaign, sitting on Y/N's bed. She sat next to him, slowly losing her patience. When Eddie asked to come over she was delighted to hang out with her boyfriend, but he's been occupied ever since he arrived.

"Eddie, it's been two hours. Can you please take a break?" she whined. But as expected, he didn't answer. He scribbled on the piece of paper, his attention nowhere on her.

She sighed as he didn't reply. She stood up and snapped her fingers in his face, "Hello?"

"Can you quit it?" Eddie snapped, slapping away her fingers. He never once looked up from the notebook.

"Can you pay attention to me?" she asked, moving her hands to her hips.

"I always pay attention to you, I'm busy right now. Just give me a second," he sighed annoyed. She rolled her eyes but sat next to him on the bed. She cuddled herself near him, placing her head on his shoulder. She sat there for a few minutes, trying her best to wait. But then a few minutes turned into almost thirty minutes.

"Eddie?" she asked again, nothing in response.

She groaned and grabbed the notebook, yanking it out of his hands.

"HEY!" he yelled, she stood up and held it behind her back.

"Can I have your attention for at least an hour?" she whined. She felt ignored and it upset her.

"How about you leave me alone and I'll finish my campaign. Then I'll give as much attention as your clingy ass wants, okay?" He snapped. She could see the annoyance in his eyes, and how pissed he was in his voice.

She didn't bother to reply this time, hurt by his words. She just scoffed and harshly threw the notebook at his chest. She watched it smack his chest with a thump and land in his lap.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he sighed. Already aware his attitude and harsh words were uncalled for. He groaned to himself when she rolled her eyes and stomped over to her desk. She pulled out a random book and pretended to read the words.

"I know I'm an ass. I'm sorry for being mean, okay?" his voice was much softer than it was. But she didn't reply. "Silent treatment, great," he muttered to himself. He slid off the bed and walked over to her desk. He placed his hands on her shoulders as he leaned down to kiss her head.

"You're right. I came here to spend time with you, I'm sorry I ignored you and called you clingy," he apologized. He was met with silence, then the sound of the page harshly being turned.

"You have every right to be upset with me," he whispered. He pushed her hair to the side, leaning down to place teasing kisses on her neck. He finally got some sort of reaction when her breath hitched. "Can I make it up to you, pretty girl?" he softly sucked her neck, closing his eyes as she let out a quiet moan.

She didn't say anything, but she turned her head to give him more access. He took that as a yes. He smiled against her skin and prepped kisses all around her neck. She closed her eyes as his tongue danced along her neck, shivering as his teeth softly nipped her skin.

She whined when he pulled away, her puppy eyes looking at him over her shoulder.

"Don't worry, baby girl. I'm not going anywhere," he promised. She watched as he dropped to his knees and disappeared under her desk.

"Eddie? What are yo-oh," she cut herself off with a moan when Eddie's fingers brushed across her covered cunt. She moaned as his large hands worked up her thighs, his cold rings made goosebumps cover her skin.

"Lift up, baby,"

She obeyed and lifted her hips, allowing him to tug down her pants and underwear. She closed her eyes as he spread open her legs, shuffling himself between them as he leaned in. She jumped as he softly kissed her clit, his fingers running up and down between her folds.

"Damn, gorgeous. You are soaked," he purred. His fingers continued to tease her folds, soaking his fingers. She whined, moving her hands into his hair. She gave him a rough tug, yanking him closer to her cunt.

He got the hint and quit teasing. He slipped two fingers inside of her, making her moan out as she clenched around him. He rubbed his nose against her clit, loving the way she slumped in the chair. With his free hand, he moved up her body, and he wiggled his wrist to catch her attention. She opened her heavy eyes when she heard his bracelets clink together.

"Tie me up, baby," he spoke against her, she twitched when his breath hit her clit. She grabbed his wrist and pulled off the black band. She blindly collected his messy curls and tied them into a pony. With his hair tied back, Eddie dove in.

She gripped the desk when his fingers began to slide in and out of her, his mouth latching on to her clit. He was messy and careless, his tongue moving side to side, up and down, and making circles. She melted into the chair as he ate her out, his skilled tongue turning her into a blubbering mess.

"Fuck, Eddie," she moaned. She couldn't help but rock her hips. Sinking his fingers deeper inside of her and moving against his tongue.

Eddie continued to lick and suck her clit, moving his fingers faster. She cried out and clenched her thighs, trapping Eddie's head between them. Not that he cared.

She gasped as he began to hum against her clit, the vibrations making her shake as she clawed her desk. He removed his mouth, using his thumb to rub lazy circles on her clit. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean. He moaned at the taste of her.

He softly kissed her thighs, her mind hazy from his touch on her clit. She jumped when she felt his tongue trace the outside of her hole, and then the tip of his tongue slipped inside. Her jaw fell open as she silently cried out, his tongue flicking inside of her as his thumb pressed down on her clit. She felt her stomach burn as her orgasm began to build.

"Fuck, fuck...gonna...I need-" her words came out breathless and broken. She dug her hands in his hair as she felt herself snap. Eddie groaned as she pulled his hair, not caring how much his head burned.

She cried out as she came undone, letting herself go on Eddie's tongue. He happily cleaned up her mess, feeling her drip down his chin.

She shuddered as he softly kissed her cunt. Then he pulled her underwear back up her legs and covered her back up. He moved out from under the desk, wiping his chin as he stood back up on his feet. He looked down at his girlfriend, smirking as she tried to catch her breath.

"Forgiven?" he asked, turning her chair to face him. He leaned down and pecked her lips, she softly kissed him back.

"Yes," she said against his lips.

Tags

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darkbluekies · 11 months ago

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God i want a dark!dr.kry fic soo bad. I read your most recent silas fic and I thought it was so good i ATE IT UP

Things you shouldn't see

Doctor!yandere x reader Summary: you've finally realized what type of man Dr Kry is, and what he is capable of doing. Warnings: murder, bruises, yandere, poison etc. Word count: 2.3k

Your crying hurts him, it really does, but he can’t be soft. Not now. You had tried to escape again. If he hadn’t come back in time to catch you in the door, God knows what could have happened to you.

“Please, please don’t”, you sob as he cuffs your wrists to the bed’s railing with belt-looking leather. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Spare your voice, Y/N”, he tells you sharply. “Begging and pleading won’t work — you're not a child. You put yourself in this situation, didn’t you? How about we take some adult consequences?” He fixes the last buckle. “Too tight?”

You don't answer, you only cry. Dr Kry grabs your chin softly to direct your attention back to him.

“Y/N, listen to me”, he says sternly. “Are the restraints too tight? Yes or no? Don’t lie.”

“No”, you sob.

“Good. You know why I’m doing this, right? I don’t think it’s funny.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop with the bullshit, Y/N. I caught you in the damn door, Y/N.” He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “I can’t let this slip. You almost escaped from me once, remember? I’m not letting that happen again. I’m going to go get you dinner and you are going to get yourself together until I’m back, okay?”

You nod slightly. When he's exited the room, you break out into sobs again. Have to get them out of your system before he returns. You hate him. Hate him so much.

He's back ten minutes later with two cardboard boxes filled with food. He looks somewhat pleased that you're not crying anymore. He stands by his desk.

“You don't understand that I want what's best for you”, Dr Kry says while opening the plastic lids. “If you did, you wouldn't try to do stupid stuff like this.”

“Turn it off”, you say through gritted teeth.

He glances at the air purifier, already knowing what you’re talking about.

“No, I will not”, he says simply.

“You're killing me!”

Dr Kry scoffs and dumps your foodbox on your legs.

“If I wanted you dead, Y/N, you'd already be in the mortuary”, he says and rolls over to you on his stool. “But as you can tell by your current status in your room, I don't.”

He picks up the fork and holds a bite of potato to your lips. You refuse to open your mouth.

“Are we doing this?” he asks with raised eyebrows. “Do I need to be mean?”

“Please don’t”, you whisper, scared.

“You don’t want me to be mean?”

You shake your head quickly.

“Good, me neither”, Dr Kry says. “Glad that we can agree on something. Open your mouth now.”

You open your mouth enough for him to put in the fork in your mouth. Dr Kry notices how you fight back the tears and sighs in defeat.

“If you really want to cry, then do it”, he says quietly.

It’s a trick. He actually doesn’t want you to cry, and you know that. But the tear that runs down your cheek can’t be brought back. You flinch when his hand brushes against your cheek to wipe it softly. He holds another fork of potato and meat to your mouth. You grimace slightly.

“Just eat and you’ll get to sleep”, Dr Kry promises you.

“Turn it off”, you whisper. “Please.”

Dr Kry sighs and walks over to the air purifier, turning it off. The soft buzzing finally, finally stopped. Dr Kry can tell that you relax in your restraints.

“Thank you”, you whisper without looking at him.

“I’ll have to turn it on again”, he says.

“Why?”

“Because it keeps you where I want you. It’s much easier than keeping you cuffed to the bed like this.”

You tug at the restraints, as if you suddenly remember that you’re wearing them. Dr Kry’s hand shoots out over your right wrist.

“Stop”, he says. “Don’t do that. I don’t like to see bruises on you. Just let it be. Give in, alright?”

You glance down at his large hand and grow cold. Could he break your wrist? Could he actually hurt you if he really wanted to? Without tools, without medicine and drugs?

“Open your mouth”, Dr Kry and removes his hand to give you the fork full of food.

This time, you open your mouth without fuss. He smiles, pleased.

“Have I fucked up for myself now?” you mumble without looking at him.

“Just a tad bit”, Dr Kry smiles and wipes some sauce of your lips with his thumb. “But it's nothing that we can't restore.”

She had seen it, and although she tried to convince herself that she was overthinking, she couldn't bring herself to admit that everything was okay with Dr Kry’s patient — or Dr Kry for that matter. There has always been something with him that has rubbed her the wrong way. He's always been polite and helpful, but she thinks that it's a facade. There is something he's hiding, she can tell that there's a certain darkness in his eyes. And the fact that they never see, hear or get any reports about his patient — despite being here for so long — worries her.

One day, she decides to sneak inside. You’re lying in the hospital bed, sleeping soundly. But other than that, the room is empty. The woman notices how your wrists are … cuffed to the side of the bed. She sneaks over to you and carefully shakes your shoulder. You open your eyes slowly, and then dart them open. In pure fear, you start to tug at the restraints.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the woman shrieks. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Who are you?!” you gasp. “Where’s Dr Kry?!”

“I don’t know, please be quiet, I’m not going to hurt you.”

You eventually start to calm down.

“Why are you cuffed to the bed?” the woman asks carefully, feeling a shiver run down her spine. “What has he done to you?”

“Please help me”, you beg.

“I saw that you tried to leave the room before … and that he snatched you back.”

“I-I will.”

“Please help me, I’m begging you, he’s killing me!” you nod at the air purifier. “He’s poisoned it! You have to help me!”

She is just about to unbuckle the leather strands keeping you to the bed when the door opens. You meet eyes with Dr Kry and feel how your entire body goes numb.

Shit.

His eyes glare at the woman as he slowly closes the door behind him, locking it shut.

“Can I help you?” he asks coldly. “What are you doing with my patient?”

The woman spins around and stutters in fear.

“Who allowed you to come in here?” Dr Kry asks, sounding suspicious — and extremely angry, although he tries to hide it. “Speak up!”

“I-I …”, the woman stutters.

Dr Kry walks closer. You’ve never seen his body language this … territorial before. It’s almost animalistic.

“What have they told you?” he asks the woman.

“Nothing!” the woman shrieks.

With one quick glance at you, he scoffs with a small, cold smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t believe anything they say, ma’am”, he says amusedly, although you’re sure that he’s angry like a bee. “They’re sick, they’re not thinking clearly. Seems like we have to talk after this.”

“Don’t be angry at them”, the woman says, finally collecting herself. “You are the one abusing your position. You should be the one who’s getting yelled at!”

“Oh, I’m not mad at my patient. How could I? If they don’t know what’s good for themselves, how could I ever expect them to know when to speak …” He gave you a warning look, “... and when to shut up?” He looked back at the woman. “They’re sick, after all.”

“Why are you keeping them prisoner?”

Dr Kry puts his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “I’m not keeping anyone prisoner. Did they tell you that?”

“You’ve poisoned the air purifier.”

“Why would I ever do that?” he laughs. “That’s absurd! You don’t think I have other things to do? A real job?” He takes a step closer. He’s almost reaching her by now. “Listen, my patient has been reading a lot of fantasy stories while being emitted here, and they must have spun their head out of control. Being in a hospital for as long as they have, all alone, must mess with ones head a bit. Don’t worry about it.”

He has slammed it over the nurse’s head, striking her to the floor. You fight against the restraints, but they’re as stuck as stone. Dr Kry continues to hit the poor nurse with the metal pipe, causing blood to splatter over the walls — and you. You can’t breathe when the red liquid lands on your face, too horrified to even move. The screams from the woman turns into moans of pain, then sobs, then silence. Dr Kry huffs and gets up from the ground, letting go of the metal pipe that clinks against the floor. His white coat and blue overalls are drenched in blood, and his face is covered in red. You’re shivering in your bed and meet his eyes with wide open eyes.

Dr Kry walks over to his desk. You can tell how he picks up a metal pipe used for the IV-stand you use every now and then.

“No!” you scream, but it’s too late.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t want you to see that”, he pants lowly.

Sobs start to exit your body. Dr Kry hurries over to you, sinking down on his knees by the bed, almost lying his upper body into yours.

“I’m sorry, little one”, he whispers and cups your cheeks.

“Don’t touch me!” you try to scream while doing your best to turn your head away, but his strong grip is forcing you to stay still, forces you to look at him.

“I didn’t want you to see that”, he repeats. “Why did she have to come and but into our business, hm? Oh, please don’t blame yourself for her death. It’s not your fault.”

He notices how you’re trying to rip your head away from him.

“I know that you’re afraid”, he says. “It was not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, I could never blame you, you know that.” He wipes your tears. “Please, don’t cry. I’m not going to do it again.”

You’re unsure if you’ve ever sobbed this harshly before in your life. The cries ripple through your body, forcing your chest to lift with every sob. It hurts, like an unwelcomed workout. Dr Kry holds your face against his chest, hushing as he hugs your head close to him. You can feel how fast his heart is beating, and it makes you nauseous.

“Let’s get you cleaned up”, Dr Kry says and unbuckles you.

You hesitate getting out of bed, glancing careful down at the dead body bleeding out on the floor. Dr Kry hurries to pick you up in his arms and walk into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and places you down in the tub. Carefully, he removes your hospital gown and turns on the shower. You refuse to look his way.

“Listen, Y/N”, he says and sinks down outside the tub. “There are things you shouldn’t see … and this was one of them. I don’t want you to think of me as a monster. I’m a realist, okay?”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me if I try to leave again?” you cry.

“No! Don’t even say such nonsense. That’s absurd. How could you ever think that?”

You find it ironic that he grows offended. He starts to wash off the blood from your face with the gentle stream of the shower.

He takes one of your wrists in hand and lets his thumb run over the deep mark from the leather.

“I told you not to fight against it”, he whispers with a sigh. “We’ll have to put bandage on that.”

Dr Kry continues to wash the blood off of you and his own hands. You follow the red water down the drain.

He puts the shower head back on the hanger and tells you to wait there until he comes back. You hug your knees close to your chest and watch how he disappears out of the bathroom. You can hear how he starts to clean up the body outside the closed door. This is what happens to the people who believe you. Those that trust Dr Kry’s words about you being too sick to function, and start to hallucinate, are no help … but those that are never get far enough.

You shiver from cold air hitting your wet, naked body and bring your knees even closer to you. There’s a new form of silence in the room, a silence that eats you up from the inside … and yet, silence had never been this loud before. You would be able to hear a needle drop to the floor on the other side of the hospital.

It had taken wells to gather the courage to try to run away again, and it had been shattered in the moment of two seconds. Your hope had been sparked again when you saw the nurse, and knew that she was one of the few that actually believed you.

You turn your face down into your knees and cry in realization that you’ll never get to leave the hospital as long as Dr Kry is around. In time, the poisoned air purifier will have killed you … but you’re unsure that you’ll get to leave the hospital even then.

I’m going to die.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere oc x reader #yandere stories #yandere female #female yandere

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inkedinshadows · 4 months ago

Text

What Truly Matters

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: After the war, Y/N has fallen into an unhealthy routine of training and pushing everyone away. But Azriel had enough of it and wants to know why she's doing it.

Warnings: angst, language, mention of child death

Word count: 4.5k

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Sweat was dripping down her forehead, and Y/N took just a moment to wipe it away with the back of her hand before she got back into position in front of the target and started training again.

During the war with Koschei, the Illyrians had suffered substantial losses. Their victory felt almost like a defeat, and Rhysand had been trying to get them back on their feet since. Y/N was stationed in one of the camps with Azriel to help him do just that, though she had no idea why. As if being female wasn't enough, she wasn't Illyrian. She wasn't even a warrior, for that matter. She didn't understand why Rhys thought she might help. He must've known the Illyrians were only going to sneer and laugh at her.

But she didn't mind. Staying at the camp meant she could train all day. To get better, stronger, faster. So that what had happened during the war would never happen again. She'd fallen into the habit of arriving at the training ring before dawn and leaving after twilight. It helped take her mind off things.

She swung her sword at the dummy target, aiming for its chest, then arms, then head, just like Cassian and Azriel had shown her. She did it again, over and over. Her breaths came in sharp pants, but she never stopped.

She knew Azriel was watching her. He always was these days, but she always ignored it. She ignored him, just like she ignored all her friends and anything that didn't involve physical exercise.

“Y/N.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Azriel take a step forward. She didn't even look his way as she kept hitting the target.

“Take a break,” he said. She'd heard him use that tone before with the Illyrians. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order.

Too bad she didn't answer to him.

“I don't need one.” Her words came in between one lunge and the next, her eyes never leaving the dummy.

“You do need one.” Azriel stepped even closer but still kept his distance. “You're going to hurt yourself if you keep pushing like that. Your body needs to recover. You need to rest and eat.”

Y/N gritted her teeth as the next hit reverberated along her arm. Her limbs were sore, yet she welcomed the pain. “I don't. My body is fine.”

Azriel spoke again, something about her unhealthy habits and how she should stop. She did no such thing, and instead put even more effort and strength into her blows.

“You're distracting me.”

He was close enough now that his shadows pooled at her feet, sliding up her legs as if they could stop her. She glared at them for just a second before resuming her movements.

“Do you think I can't see what you're doing?” Azriel’s voice was cold as ice, colder than she'd ever heard. “You're punishing yourself because you think you deserve it. But you're just going to collapse if you don’t stop. Are you trying to die or something?”

“Maybe.”

The word was out before she even realized it. But there it was: the truth, now out in the open. The thought that had been lingering in the back of her mind for months. That maybe she did deserve to die for what she'd done. Or rather, for what she'd failed to do.

She finally looked at Azriel then. She saw the shock on his face, the hurt in his eyes. His shadows retreated back to his side as if even they couldn't stand the truth she'd revealed.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Y/N wiped her sweat away again, tightened her grip on the hilt, and went back to jabbing, hitting, lunging.

She suddenly stopped mid-blow, her sword raised, the tip just a few inches from Azriel's neck. He'd stepped in front of her faster than she could see and didn't even flinch when her blade almost cut through him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she yelled, her arm falling back to her side. “I could've killed you!”

Azriel didn't look bothered. Whether it was because he knew she'd be able to check that swing or because he would have stopped it himself if she hadn't, she couldn't tell.

“What do you mean, ‘maybe’?” he asked instead. “Do you really believe you need to punish yourself like this?”

She snapped then. “So what if I do? Why do you care? Shouldn't you be overseeing the Illyrians?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes and his jaw set. “You know damn well why I care, Y/N.”

She might know, but she didn't care. Couldn't bring herself to, not anymore.

“What I know is that you should go back to do your job.” She stepped around him to position herself in front of the target again. “And let me do my thing.”

Azriel gripped her elbow, forcing her to turn around and face him. “You're not doing ‘your thing’,” he growled. He was getting angry now. Good. “You've let your training become an obsession. You never stop. You barely sleep. You barely eat. You're hurting yourself, Y/N.”

He was right, and she knew it. But why couldn't he understand? Why couldn't he let her go so she could go back to training? But despite her effort of freeing her arm, his grip didn't loosen.

“So you've noticed things. Congratulations, you're good at your spymaster job.” She bared her teeth at him. “Now let me go, Azriel.”

“No.” His voice was firm and low. It was the voice of the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court. Y/N might have flinched, if she'd only cared about it. “You're pushing yourself beyond your limits. And you want me to stand by and let you continue like this?”

“Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do. Consider it a favor, an order, a command. Whatever you want as long as you do.” She tried to yank her arm free once more and when she couldn't, she glowered up at him. “Because you know what the alternative to training is?”

He didn't answer, but she noticed the tic in his jaw, the way his brow furrowed for just a second. He was trying to figure it out.

“Did you know,” she started slowly, “that they don't let females buy alcohol here? Especially if they're not even Illyrian. So it's either training or sex, Azriel.” She raised an eyebrow, staring right into his eyes. She stopped struggling against his grip. She knew she was being a bitch, and that none of this was his fault. Just like she knew her next words were going to hurt him, and yet she said them anyway. “Would you prefer that? Would it make you feel better if instead of training, I'd let every Illyrian in this camp fuck me?”

She could tell the exact moment her words struck home. Azriel froze. He went completely, utterly still. Even his shadows halted their usual swirling around his body and wings. But his eyes… She might as well have been staring at rage itself.

“Don't you dare,” he said. His icy tone, so at odds with the anger burning inside him, would send wiser people running from him. But Y/N wasn't exactly being wise right now.

“It's your choice, Azriel.” His grasp on her arm tightened so much it almost hurt, but the slight pain was a welcomed friend. “What will it be? Training or fucking?”

He was silent for a long minute, his eyes locked on her face. And for a moment, she could see it: the Spymaster, the Shadowinger, the one whose sight was enough to frighten people.

They were both aware of what Illyrians would do to her if she sought them out willingly. To them, she was little more than an object, and they'd stayed away so far only out of fear of Azriel's wrath. But if she was the one who approached them, things would be different. Y/N didn’t have any particular desire to let those brutes anywhere near her, but if Azriel was going to take away her training and she wasn't allowed to drink… she had to find another way to either feel something other than grief and guilt, or to numb everything.

“No one is allowed to touch you,” Azriel said through gritted teeth, as if struggling to control his rage. “I won't let them touch you.”

Y/N bit her tongue to keep quiet. A part of her, the one that was hurting and just wished for relief, wanted to lash out and tell him to fuck her himself if no one else was allowed. But another part of her, the one that still cared, knew she couldn't cross that line. She was acting like a spiteful bitch, but she still had limits. She wouldn't hurt Azriel more than she already had.

“Then let me train,” she replied instead. “Let me go, move aside, and let me finish what I was doing.”

“Over my dead body.”

They stared at each other, his hand still on her elbow, hers still holding the sword. She had to find a way to make him leave. She didn't even know why he was still there, still not giving up. She'd pushed everyone else away in the last few months: Elain, Nesta, Rhys… even Feyre and Cassian. All of them. And yet, Azriel was still here.

“Is this because of the children?”

Her heart stopped. Her body froze. Memories flooded her mind: screams and blood and cries; unanswered prayers, ignored pleas and evil laughs.

Suddenly, she moved, too swiftly for even Azriel to react. Yanking her arm away, she stepped back, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Don't,” she spat. “Don't even mention the children.”

Azriel's shoulders slumped as he realized what was going on. His anger seemed to disappear, and his gaze softened as he took a step forward. But she couldn't bear the pity in his eyes and retreated a step. She'd much rather face his rage than his pity.

Azriel's voice was calm and collected when he spoke again. “I know you're hurting. But this is madness, Y/N. Why are you doing this?”

“Because…” she started, her voice still loud with anger. But just the mention of the children left her feeling drained. Empty and spent, she stared at him without really seeing. There was nothing left inside her but an overwhelming void she had no idea how to fill.

“It should have been me,” she whispered in a flat voice. “It should have been me, Az.”

Her sword clattered to the floor and the cold ground bit at her knees as her legs gave out. Azriel was there in an instant, crouching before her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“It was the only thing Rhys asked me to do,” she murmured. A sob shook her and tears followed short after. All the tears she hadn't shed since it happened were now flowing like a tidal wave. She didn't care if anyone passing by could see her. “To protect those children and lead them away from the battle. But I failed, and now they're all dead. Because of me.”

“Y/N–”

“The only thing, Az.” She shook her head, her eyes closed. “And I failed him. I failed them. I failed their families. I failed everyone.”

His grip on her shoulders tightened, and then it was the only solid thing as the world turned into shadows and wind. When she looked up, she realized Azriel had winnowed them away from prying eyes and into the cabin they shared at the camp.

“It's not your fault, Y/N,” he said gently. “No one blames you for it.”

“I do.” She pushed away from him, though she didn't try to stand up. Her legs were too sore from all the exercise, and now that she'd stopped and the adrenaline of training had worn off, it would take a while for her body to work the way she wanted it to.

“It's my damn fucking fault and you know it. Everybody knows it, and yet no one acknowledges it.” Anger surged once more and she almost screamed. “No one! Not even Rhys!”

Azriel’s eyes remained soft, his voice still gentle. “Because we know there was nothing you could do, Y/N.”

She couldn’t bear it, that pity. She wanted him to get mad at her, to yell and scream at her and give her the confrontation she needed.

“Nesta took out the soldiers all by herself,” she retorted. “Five soldiers. All by herself.”

“Nesta is a Valkyrie. She has more–”

“More training and experience,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “She had the element of surprise and all that. Can people stop repeating that already?”

Cassian had told her. Rhys had told her. Nesta herself. Yet it didn't change the simple fact that when those soldiers had found Y/N and the children, they caught her so off guard she barely had time to draw her blade before they seized her. And then made her watch as they killed the children. They were getting started on her when Nesta found them. Too late. Or too early, by then. A few more minutes, and Y/N would have died too. At least she wouldn't have had to live with that guilt and pain.

“I thanked her, you know,” she added in a whisper, meeting Azriel’s eyes. “Nesta. I thanked her when she saved me. But I didn't mean it.”

Realization dawned on him, and she didn't resist when he pulled her to him. She allowed herself to be enveloped in his arms, and in that moment, with just the two of them, she let go.

Azriel caressed her hair, unfazed by her sweat or the tears soaking his clothes as she cried into his chest. “Shhh,” he whispered in a soothing voice. “It wasn't your fault, sweetheart. Why do you keep punishing yourself like this?”

Deep down, a part of her knew he was right. That even if she'd got the chance to fight back against those soldiers, she wouldn't have been able to take down more than one and the others would have gotten to the children anyway. It didn’t make it any easier though.

“Do you know how old the oldest child was? Did Rhys tell you?” Her voice was muffled by her sobs, her face pressed against the crook of his neck. She continued before he could answer. “He was nine, Az. Nine. The same age my brother was when he…” She trailed off, unable to say the words even after more than a century.

She swallowed in an attempt to calm down and lifted her head to look at Azriel again. “What I'm trying to say is, I know what kind of pain their deaths brought to their families. And knowing I was the reason for it… it's just… it’s too much.”

A flicker of anger sparked in his eyes. “You know what kind of pain it brings,” he echoed. “So why push yourself until you collapse? Why would you bring that same pain upon your own family?”

“You know my family doesn't care if I live or die,” she retorted, her voice a bit sharper.

Azriel clenched his jaw. “Not your parents, Y/N,” he growled. “Your real family. Cassian would be crushed. Feyre broken. Even Amren. And… and me.” There was a vulnerability now in his voice that she'd never heard before. “I would care. I would be devastated. Not just as your friend, but… No, not just as your friend.”

She could only stare at him. Her real family. Not the one she was born into, but the one she'd chosen. The one that had chosen her back. How could she ever forget that?

Cassian, Feyre, Rhys, Nesta, Elain, Mor, Amren. All of them.

Azriel. Did he know?

Not just as your friend.

He probably did. But it didn't matter now.

She had pushed them all away. Because it was easier than accepting that they were right, that there was nothing she could have done to save those children. It was easier to stay away than to see their faces and know they weren't angry at her for failing, when she couldn't forgive herself.

“I'm sorry.” Another sob tore through her as she hugged Azriel. “I'm so sorry, Az… you're my family. I don't know why I lost sight of that.”

His hand drew soothing circles on her back. “Grief and guilt can do that,” he said softly. “They make you forget who you are and what truly matters… who matters.”

Azriel rested his chin on top of her head. They stayed like that for what could have been hours. Y/N kept crying all the tears she'd bottled up since the war until she was spent and her eyes stung, but never once did Azriel’s embrace falter. He held her through it all.

“Do you think they can forgive me?” she eventually asked.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “I know they will. They're your family, Y/N. They're just worried about you.”

She lifted her head then, looked in his eyes and found concern staring back at her. “Can you forgive me?”

“Y/N, sweetheart.” Azriel cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the last of her tears. “Of course I can. I already have.” He smiled, and it started to heal something inside her. “Just promise me you won't push us away again. Let us, let me, help you.”

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding. Azriel was right. She couldn't keep pushing away her friends, her family. And maybe she'd never get to the point of not blaming herself for the death of those children, but with some help she could learn how to live with the guilt.

“Good. That's the Y/N I know.”

She looked at Azriel again, only to see that soft smile still gracing his lips. She’d always loved that smile.

Azriel stood up and offered her his hand. She took it immediately and let him help her up. And then she realized there was a small smile on her own lips, the first one in months. Since the children.

“Now, will you let me cook you something?” Azriel let go of her hand and turned around toward the small kitchen counter. “You need to start eating healthy again.”

Y/N appreciated his thoughtfulness, but she still found herself saying, “I thought it was the other way around.”

“What was?” he asked with a glance, his focus already on this new task. Tendrils of shadows were spreading around as if eager to contribute.

She didn't know why she'd said that. Maybe she could still change the subject or come up with some other stupid answer. And yet she couldn't stop the words already on her tongue. “Isn't the female supposed to be the one offering food to her mate?”

Azriel turned to her then. His face seemed a bit paler than before. “You know.”

She smiled. A real, full smile as she nodded. “If I hadn't known already, you kind of gave it away earlier. ‘Not just as your friend, but…’?” She shrugged. “It was pretty obvious, to be honest.”

He still looked a little wary, though. “How long have you known?”

“Since last spring.”

“That was more than a year ago.”

Y/N cocked her head. “So how long have you known?”

“Just a couple months.” Azriel's gaze bore into her. “Why didn't you say anything a year ago?”

This was not how she had imagined this conversation to go. Not in a cabin in a war camp lost in the Illyrian mountains. Definitely not after months during which she hadn't allowed herself to feel anything beyond grief and guilt until she was drowning in them. But she was glad that the truth was finally coming to light, no matter how unexpected it was.

“I wanted to, Az, trust me. But I didn't know how, and… a part of me hoped you'd want me regardless of the bond.” Y/N sighed and she shook her head, as if to chase away her thoughts. “But the war started soon after that, and everything happened, and I just… I shut everything out. Even the bond.”

“Y/N.” He closed the space between them and took her hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze. His eyes were soft, his tone gentle. “I've wanted you for a long time. Long before I even knew you were my mate.”

She hadn't seen that coming. Azriel wanted her? And he had for a while, apparently. “Why didn't you say anything then?” she questioned without even trying to hide her surprise.

“Because I was afraid it'd ruin our friendship.” The vulnerability in his voice made her brace herself for what he might say next. “That you might not… love me the way I love you.”

Her heart was pounding and she could only stare into his eyes. He loved her. There'd been a time when hearing him say those three little words was everything she hoped for. But he didn’t think she loved him back. Well, she couldn't really blame him for it. Not after how she'd been acting lately.

Y/N let the wall she'd erected around the bond come down. She let her feelings flow toward Azriel’s end of it. She held back her pain and her guilt and her grief, but the love she'd pushed down and refused to acknowledge for months flooded the mating bond.

It was met halfway by Azriel’s love.

She shuddered at the intensity of it all. After all the time feeling barely anything, it was almost overwhelming. Y/N welcomed it in her soul and let it wrap around the broken pieces of her heart.

Azriel's smile was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. “Does that mean you will accept the bond?”

She nodded, smiling as well and holding his hands a bit tighter. “Of course I will,” she answered. “But not now. I want to get better first. To learn how to cope with all this guilt. And then I'll cook you anything you want.”

He seemed surprised and for a moment Y/N thought he might not understand her decision. But then he cupped her cheeks. “That's very wise,” he murmured, leaning in to brush a kiss on her forehead. “You can take all the time you need, sweetheart. I'll be with you every step of the way.”

She hugged him tightly, with no intention of letting him go anytime soon. New tears swelled up in her eyes, but she tried to hold them back this time.

She'd ignored her feelings for Azriel and their mating bond as an additional way to punish herself, but a part of her also believed she didn't deserve him after her failure. But now… maybe it had all been a huge mistake after all.

Azriel wrapped her in his arms and wings, his chin resting on the top of her head as his scent enveloped her. Night-chilled mist and cedar. As familiar as her own, if not more. It soothed her, made her feel safe. It was a beacon toward the light, toward home, after months lost in the darkness.

“You know, I should thank Rhys,” she whispered after a few minutes.

“Rhys?” Azriel pulled back to look down at her, confusion clear on his face and in his voice. “For what?”

“Well,” she started with a little shrug, “we all know you don't really need my help with the Illyrians. I'm kind of useless. And I doubt I'm here so I can train till I pass out.” She gave him an apologetic look before she went on. “I think Rhys sent me here because of you. Because he knew that if there was someone who could help me, it'd be you, Az.”

Azriel thought it over, but she could see he was inclined to believe it too. “Do you think he knows we're mates?”

Y/N frowned. “I don't know. I never told anyone.”

“Me neither.” He shook his head. “But you're right. We'll thank him when we go back to Velaris.”

“Hopefully soon,” she muttered with a sigh. “I have a lot of apologizing to do.”

Azriel caressed her cheek, forcing her to look at him. “They'll forgive you, Y/N. What matters to them is that you get better. I can promise you that.”

It was her turn to bring her hands up to his cheeks and gently cup them. She was so grateful to have him at her side. “I'm glad it's you,” she said, her voice soft. “I'm glad you're my mate, Az.”

His smile lit up his whole face. He slowly leaned in, and she held her breath as he brushed his lips against hers. It wasn't exactly a kiss, more like the promise of one, but it was enough to leave behind a tingling sensation when he pulled back.

“And I'm glad you are mine, Y/N,” he murmured, smiling down at her. “But now you should really eat something. Go take a bath, maybe, and food will be ready when you come back.”

Y/N chuckled as she took a step back. “That's why you didn't kiss me? Because I stink?”

Azriel's eyes widened, but he quickly relaxed again. He looked relieved that she was trying to joke. It was a step toward getting back to her usual self.

“I did not say you stink. But you've been training all day and you're all sweaty,” he answered, continuing before she could reply. “And I didn't kiss you because I know that if I start… I might never want to stop.”

She studied him for a moment, her brow furrowed. “I'm not sure I believe you, but that's a better reason for sure.” Y/N left a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

Azriel was already shaking his head. “You don't have to thank me. Not for helping you. I'll always do it gladly.”

“And that's exactly why I'm thanking you, Az.” She smiled, brushing his hand while she turned to walk out and toward the bathroom.

The path ahead might be full of obstacles and setbacks, and she wasn't foolish enough to believe she could wake up tomorrow without feeling guilty, but she had Azriel to help her now. The rest of her family as well, once she apologized and explained why she'd shut them out.

More importantly, she was willing to let them help and to heal. She was tired of feeling this way and wanted to get better. For her own wellbeing, sure, but also to give Azriel the best version of herself because he deserved no less than that.

And when she was ready, she'd accept the mating bond and they'd start their life together.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel × reader #azriel fanfic #angst #fluff #sjm #acotar #hurt/comfort #fanfic

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corazondebeskar-reads · 2 months ago

Text

get some on my love

QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader

my masterlist | joel fic recs

This is for @justagalwhowrites' Birthday Celebration for Joel. I picked the prompts for QZ!Joel and breeding kink. It, uh. It got away with me. Title from "Gasoline" by Seether because that's what made this get so feral. Please read the warnings.

dedicated to @covetyou bcus it's your tumblrversary bb! and also because of SWAT, the ultimate slutty qz joel fic that lives in my head and pays rent

words: 1.6k

summary: You visit Joel Miller to get what you need.

warnings: dub-con, dubcon due to sex in exchange for drugs, and he kind of springs the breeding kink on her (but there's not a risk), abuse of prescription medications, QZ!Joel Miller, dealer!Joel Miller, smuggler!Joel Miller, filthy!Joel Miller, breeding kink, creampie, menstrual sex, inappropriate uses of period blood, spitting, pussy pronouns (she/her), vulgar language, god i don't even know it's just nasty and they like it, kind of hate fucking, no y/n, no betas no proofreading no nothing lol

dividers by @saradika-graphics

also on ao3

“Well, well. Look who’s come crawlin’ back,” Joel drawls when he opens the door.

You scowl. “You gonna let me in or not?”

He leans against the frame, a lazy smirk curling. “Gee, I don’t know. You had some mighty strong things to say ‘bout me last time.” He does step back, though, ushering you in.

“Pretty sure you said you were never gonna look at my ugly mug again,” he adds as he shuts the door behind you.

“Yeah, well,” you mutter.

He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Yeah, well,” he mocks. “Well, what? No one else want that sloppy pussy as payment?”

“You like my pussy, jackass,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, I do,” he says, cornering you against the door, your back hitting it with a thump. He leers, leaning in. “You know why it’s so sloppy? ‘Cause I fuckin’ ruined it, and you loved it.”

You scowl again, turning your head sharply to the side so you don’t have to look at his smug smirk. The worst part is how right he is.

“Look,” you mutter, heat rising to your cheeks, “I-I can’t pay today. But I need them, bad. I’ll… I’ll make it up to you.”

It nearly kills you to say. The only thing worse than dealing with Joel Miller is owing Joel Miller.

“Whaddya mean you can’t pay today? Cunt closed for construction or somethin’?”

You shove him away roughly, ducking out of his grasp to stalk into the living room. “No, dumbass, I’m… bleedin’, you know.”

His responding grin is feral and full of teeth. “I don’t give a shit. Go bend over the bathroom sink.”

“Are you fuckin' serious?”

“You want the fuckin’ pills or not?”

You could scream. Of course you do. There’s not a part of your body that doesn’t hurt. It’s settled into every joint and crevice, an ache you can’t stretch out or shake loose.

You’d know. You’ve tried. But you’re losing sleep, and the pain makes you too nauseous to eat. His drugs will only take the edge off for so long, but god, you’d do nearly anything for a few hours’ respite.

“Fine,” you whisper finally, and make your way to the apartment’s tiny three-piece.

He follows, watching you with amusement. “Strip,” he says.

You glare, and he shrugs.

“Or don’t. But I ain’t responsible for what happens to your clothes.”

Oh, fuck him. Fuck him. But you strip—all the way, even though you could have left your top on, but because mother nature has you on her shit list, your usual pain is compounded when you’re menstruating. And when you’re ovulating. Really, so many women don’t even have a fucking cycle anymore from all the stress and malnutrition, but noooo, you were cursed with a fertile fucking uterus.

The point was that your titties were sore and aching, and the thought of his warm hands groping and pawing at them sounded nice, so off goes your shirt.

He chuckles when he enters the bathroom. “Well, look at that. Eager?”

“Hurry up,” you snap. “It’s cold, and there’s gonna be a mess.”

“Gonna be a mess either way,” he taunts, his hands rough against your hips.

And ain’t that the kicker? There’s gonna be a mess. Your cunt is already sore, and he’s gonna leave a trail of destruction in his wake.

“Don’t look so grossed out, sugar,” he says, cupping your breasts and looking at you in the mirror. “It’s all natural. Plus, I gotta say, it’s been a long time since I got to do this.”

You’re busy meeting his eyes in the mirror and pulling a face, not catching his last words. He rolls and pinches at your tender nipples, but it’s the kind of pain that sits on the right side of pleasure. As expected, his meaty hands grope unmercifully at your breasts, and you moan in relief at the free massage.

“That’s it. That’s what I like to hear. You ready for me, huh? That greedy pussy o’ yours ready?”

“Uh-huh,” you say distractedly. “Wait—”

“I didn’t forget,” he murmurs in your ear. “Open.”

You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out. He sets a round, white pill on it and turns your head with a firm grip on your chin, his spit landing right on the pill.

You swallow and avert your eyes as he watches your reflection.

“Get on with it,” you rasp.

One hand wanders down between your thighs and strokes through the folds, working you open with two thick fingers scissoring side to side. He doesn’t spend long there, dragging them up to rub at your clit for a moment.

“Make some fuckin’ noise; I can’t tell if you’re wet or not with all this goin’ on,” he grumbles, withdrawing his hand and showing you the slick blood coating it.

You wince, and he laughs. “Y’ain’t scared of your own period, are ya?”

“Fuck off, ‘course I’m not. Doesn’t mean I wanna look at it.”

He grins. The expression is always unnatural on him and usually heralds something vulgar.

You’re not wrong. He brings his hand up to cup your breast, leaving a smear of blood on your tit.

“Somethin’ kinda hot about it, don’tcha think?” he muses.

“If you say so,” you mutter, but you can’t look away. It’s striking, blood against your skin that isn’t borne of violence.

The thick tip of his cock interrupts your thoughts as he pushes down on your shoulder. You bend, gripping the sides of the vanity as he buries himself inside with one slow thrust.

He groans, gripping hard on your shoulder. “S’better than lube.”

“You’re so gross,” you say, shaking your head.

“Yeah? Then why’re you clenchin’ around me like a goddamn vice, huh?”

“You always talk this much when you fuck, or am I special?”

“Oh, sugar, don’t flatter yourself,” he says with a slap on your ass. “Y’ain’t special.”

“You—ahh—you hate-fuck all your customers?”

He snorts. “You ain’t even special enough to hate, honey. And you can hate me all you like, but we both know you’re gonna keep comin’ back.”

As you scowl up at him in the mirror, you almost wish looks could kill. But he’s right. He’d be no good to you dead because no other dealer in this godforsaken QZ will dose you in exchange for sex.

As it is, he only lets you once a week. You need more than that? Gotta pay like everyone else. Even when you can afford it, you find yourself back here or on your knees or however he wants you every fuckin’ Friday, because a free pill is a free pill. It’s 3-4 hours you can nap without nearly killin’ yourself to afford it.

Today’s pill hasn’t begun to set in yet, but that’s the other thing about Joel. He’s good at making you forget.

Real good.

His hands are on your body, roughly gentle. He’s not careful with his touch, but not careless, either. He wants you to come, wants you to shake and fall apart on his dick, so he can flash you that little self-satisfied smirk borne of bravado he’s rightly earned.

And you do. You come for him, with his hands on your breasts and your clit. You tremble and moan and your pussy tries to stake a claim on his cock, clenching and hoping to never let go. But it will, and you will. In the end, you always let go.

He’s a different kind of beast tonight. Panting and grunting in your ear, teeth on your neck, sweat dripping and blending with yours. After he’s rung pleasure from you, he settles one hand on your hip and another on your shoulder and ruts into you like a jackhammer. Like he can’t get deep enough, can’t stop until he’s carved a spot for him within you.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he mutters, pushing you down further. “Fuuuck, darlin’, you want this, huh? You want me to fill you up?”

“Wh-what?” you gasp, air knocked from you with each punch of his cock against your cervix.

“Gonna fill you up good, gonna—nnng— gonna make it stick.”

You reach back and smack him. “The fuck are you—”

But he doesn’t let you finish. He holds on tight and grinds his dick deep. “That greedy pussy, sugar, she fuckin’ wants it. Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy ‘till she’s full o’ me. And you’re gonna take it, right?”

You whimper, holding tight to the sink while he loses his fucking mind or whatever is happening. You don’t know. It feels too good to question.

“Thas’ it,” he rambles. “Gonna look so good, stuffed up, and ev’ryone—everyone—will know you let me fuckin’ breed you.”

Oh god. It shouldn’t be hot. Those words should be stopping your heart, you should be pushing him away, but your dumb cunt has a mind of its own and holds tight to him, each thrust of his cock squelching as you come around him again.

“Jesus, baby, it’s been too long, too long since I got to fill up a cunt like yours,” he groans, hips stuttering, “oh shit, take it—fuckin’ take it.”

His cock pulses inside you, and you think maybe you die and go to heaven for a little bit—just a little, because when you open your eyes, you’re still in Joel’s grimy bathroom—but there’s a sweet moment where you think he’s right. It’s been too long. Far too long since a man’s come undone inside you, let you feel that hot burst and twitching, it’s divine, it’s—well, it’s making you come again.

When he pulls out, you stumble right to the toilet, glaring at him as you try to clean up the mess before it happens. “Gross,” you grumble.

When you look up, the way he’s looking at you makes somethin’ awful churn inside, and it’s not just the apparent buckets of cum he filled you with.

The silence between you is thick. Finally, he jerks his head to the shower. “Get cleaned up ‘n get out,” is all he says, and the door clicks shut in his wake.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #qz!joel miller #dead dove fic #the last of us smut #the last of us fic #tlou fic

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togament · 6 months ago

Note

More windbreaker threats you say? Maybe I… introduce u to my favorite tall glass of water; Hiragi Toma?—- I’m sorry u know he’s all I cry about but listEN!!

The way he walks around searching for the shirt you’ve just hidden, so you can admire his solid torso, and distinct V line… the way his necklace shifts back and forth in your face when he’s pushing your legs up to your chest, pounding into you just the way you asked for… the way he can’t help but leave clear bite marks along your nape and thighs … all while by the end of the day, cradling you and telling you how cute you are… <3333 I’m struck DUMB for this man HELP

i… am having thoughts of busy hiragi, only having him you yourself for such a short period of time twice or thrice a week. he hasn’t touched you in weekssss — but not until you can finally get him alone.

NSFW, +18 stuff under the cut. MDNI.

✧₊⁺

hiragi’s a busy (and stressed) man. he’s got way more on his plate than you could imagine, being a guardian to ume (who supplies most of the stress for hiragi personally on a silver platter), looking over the bofurin boys, being ume’s ‘spy’ for kotoha just in case she gets hurt and you, his beloved, beloved partner.

you who could absolutely, noooo, never, want to stress him out further. you who he has caught practically drooling when he rolls up his sleeves to do something. you who has always helped him with the bofurin boys, wanting him to take a load off. you who have constantly been riling him up when you’re alone for just a couple of minutes, only to walk away like nothing happened when someone’s nearby.

you who definitely didn’t hide his shirt when he’s changing out of his sweat and paint soaked ones, gawking at how his muscles flex and unflex as he’s practically turning the empty classroom inside out.

fuck. you think he looks better in the moonlight.

you who definitely didn’t ask ume in advance if you could have hiragi for the evening just in case they had meetings. you who convinced ume so easily. little does he know what you have in store for his best friend.

now you’re folded over on one of the school desks, ankles dangling by your ears. the incessant and rhythmic screeching and thumping of the chairs echo through the empty highschool. hiragi’s silver necklace glistens in the moonlight while he’s fucking you senselessly, brows knitted and hands steady on the table below you. god it’s like he wants to break you.

“h-harder!!! fuck, hiragi-! y-you’re too fucking good-“, the words eke out of you pathetically, already fucked out of your mind and cockdrunk. the wet squelching of your cunt grows sloppier the harder he folds you. his girth stretching you out in unimaginable ways.

“i knew it,” he says sharply, accompanying each syllable with a harsh thrust into you. oh he’s pissed. “i know you hid my shirt-“, he grins, reaching between your bodies to rub at your clit. you tighten around him, practically squealing his name. you didn’t hide it well enough. the shirt’s clearly peeking from your bag right next to his.

oh. oh fuck.

you know he can see right through your plan.

“that desperate to get me alone? huh? you missed this cock filling you up?”, he practically grows but then he stops rubbing before immediately kneeling between your legs but not before adding onto the bitemarks he’s already left minutes ago into your session. your inner thighs are practically riddled with his teeth marks. “well too fuckin’ bad.”

he starts eating you out, licking a wide strip up your lips then flicking at your clit rapidly, earning a yelp and a tight grip on his hair. you come over and over on his tongue, quivering as your juices flow down your cunt and onto the wooden desk.

standing straight up once more, he enters you slowly but not without tapping his tip on your clit first, hissing at the tight sensation before thrusting harshly once, twice, thrice and pop! he pulls out, feverishly stroking his cock. his cum drips down his fist, and squirts on his tight, glistening abs and chest.

tired, sweaty and heaving heavily, he guides you to sit up, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek and lips. he grabs a wet wipe from his bag and cleans you up first then cleans himself up last with a new towelette.

minutes after, you’re both all dressed up and proper, leaving the school campus and into the night. save for a couple of his bitemarks slightly peeking over your collar, you look pretty decent. as you’re walking to the train station, you stagger a little but hiragi and holds you against his side, a steady hand on your waist. after him being all up in your guts, how could you even walk straight?

“sorry about your shirt,” you mumble, leaning into him as you walk. he only lets our a breathy chuckle before shaking his head. he pops a couple gaskuns, chewing them before he answers.

“i should keep a leash on you,” he mutters into your scalp, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. “god you’re like a puppy,” he playfully groans, pulling away while his fingers drum at your side.

“Am I the cutest puppy though?” you bat your eyes playfully at him. ah… he knows you mean it in jest. he only smiles down at you, leaning in closely with his lips barely grazing yours.

“the absolute cutest.”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

a/n: whew that was… Something. lmao this was supposed to be a short drabble, i swear. hiragi hard fucker, sweet sweet lover agenda go UP. i know for a fact he’s a BEAST at aftercare. it comes so naturally to him like HI? forehead kisses and cuddles? grabby hands.

i rly hope u like this bb @witch--btch 🙇‍♀️✨

#wind breaker #windbreaker #nii satoru #satoru nii #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #wind breaker smut #toma hiragi #hiragi toma #hiragi x reader #toma hiragi x reader #hiragi toma x reader #hiragi smut #shout out to all hiragi fuckers #this one’s for u bbgz #bibi spicy yaps #bibi spicy asks

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echobx · 4 months ago

Text

Anything - bsf!JJ Maybank × fem!reader

summary: y/n has heavy cramps and proposes that JJ help her out with relieving them

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut, p in v (unprotected), tw blood mention, oral (fem receiving), simp!JJ, bsf!JJ, light praise kink, foreplay, verbal aftercare

author's note: I'm on my period and horny. that's it. that's literally the only reason why I wrote this.

“Fuck,” you hiss and turn on the couch, holding onto your stomach, clawing at the pain the cramps are causing you. You hate your period, but usually it isn't too bad, that was before your boyfriend broke up with you. Now you are alone at the Château, horny and in excruciating pain.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice comes to your ears, and you snap your eyes open. JJ is leaning half over you, his eyebrows furrowed and tongue poking at his cheek.

“Period,” you press out the word, and he nods, leaning back up.

“Should I get you something to eat? Chocolate? Or a heating pad?” he asks, and it's too sweet how he wants to help you feel better in all the ways he knows. And when your eyes rake over him, taking in the toned arms and the cut-off shirt, you can feel the heat rise inside you. You knew how hot your best friend is the moment he presented himself to you one summer after you were gone for a few weeks on vacation, and he had stayed home working some job. But you know his body like no other, not all of him, obviously, but you know enough. And right now you're completely controlled by your hormones and the possible consequences are something you don't even take note of.

“There's something else you can help me with. You can say no,” you tease, and he cocks an eyebrow.

“You look like you just had the worst and best idea of your life, y/n.”

“Just might,” you smile and sit up, ignoring the new wave of cramps the movement conjured.

“You gonna tell me?” JJ crosses his arms in front of his chest, and you can't help but gawk at how good he looks, flexing for you.

“I haven't had sex in three weeks, that's why it hurts so much,” you explain and his face lights up for just a second.

“And how am I to be of help with that?” He's cocky, and you hate how much it turns you on.

“You know me better than anyone else, J. You know I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't really need it,” you say and he tilts his head. “Desperately, I might add. Because this hurts and I'm so fucking horny. But I'd understand it if you said no.”

“What if it changes our dynamic?” JJ ponders and you laugh.

“The dynamic where they all already think we're fuckin’ because you can't stop fake flirting with me?”

“All right,” JJ nods and holds his hand out for you to take. This went easier than you expected.

You place a dozen towels all over the bed, trying to help with the mess you're about to make. And when you're done JJ is right behind you, his chest pressing against your back, fingertips grazing over your arms, and you let out a sigh while falling back into him just so slightly.

“Are you sure you want this?” he rasps in your ear, and you bite your lip before nodding.

“Tell me what I'm allowed to do to you, princess,” JJ whispers, and you feel like you're about to fold right then and there. This is new. He had never been like this with you. Seductive and sexy and only focused on you and no one else.

“Anything,” you breathe, and he chuckles.

“What if I can't stop once we start this?”

“Then don't stop,” you say while turning around and pulling him into a kiss. He tastes like mint with a faint hint of weed, as if he had tried to cover up by brushing his teeth. But you like it, the fact that he put an effort into it, into making you feel good.

JJ kisses you as if you are air, and he's suffocating. It's demanding and soft at the same time, and you really don't know how he does it. Entangling your tongues and moaning into you. Pressing his crotch to your body, his hard dick against your stomach. Your hands are tangled in his tousled hair, while his are angling your neck and holding your waist, as if it was always meant to be.

“Wow,” you hush after he pulled away, unable to look up into his eyes, but you know deep inside that he felt it too. The flutter in your stomach that you hadn't felt in so long, not even for your ex.

“You wanna get ready here or?” JJ smiles down at you, twirling a strand of hair in his long fingers, and you nod slowly, stepping to the side and vanishing in the bathroom.

“This the craziest idea you've ever had, y/n,” you whisper to yourself while looking into the mirror. Not only do you not look sexy at all, but you're also not mentally stable enough to make a decision like that. The hold your hormones have over your body is scary, at least a little bit.

After pulling out the tampon, you leave your underwear and shorts lying on the edge of the tub, only walking back to him in the shirt you were wearing all day long.

JJ is sitting on the edge of the bed, boxer briefs on, head hanging low as he fidgets with his rings.

“I'm ready,” you whisper, and you feel like you did the first time you met him. 4th grade, with your tear streaked face and a broken toy in your hands, but he had simply offered you a hug, and you had been best friends ever since.

“I couldn't find any condoms, so if you wanna stop right here, I'm totally okay with that,” JJ told you, and you had to think about it for a second.

“I trust you,” you nod and sit down by his side, taking his hand in yours and smiling softly. “It's just two best friends getting impossibly closer to each other than ever before. It doesn't have to change anything,” you remind him, and he nods. “Besides, I'm conscious enough to take my own precautions,” you giggle, and he turns to you with furrowed brows.

“What that mean?”

“I'm not planning on making you my baby-daddy. Not tonight at least,” you try your best to look serious, but the grin breaks through and JJ smiles, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. Maybe you like kissing him too much, because as soon as his lips touch yours, your stomach is flodded with fuzzy feelings and your head goes blank in dizziness.

“I should fuck you now,” he whispers against your lips, but he doesn't pull away yet. It's as if he's trying to figure something out, and then he kisses you again, and you move back, pulling him with you. It's clumsy and the two of you can't help but laugh as you crawl over the bed, one kiss chasing the next one until you're completely under him. Your legs are propped up around his hips, his hands next to your head as he looks down on you.

“You can still say no,” he reminds you, and you bite your lip.

“No. But you can still say no, too.”

“When's the last time I said no to you, princess,” JJ mumbles, and before you can give him a profound answer, he kisses you another time. Your back arches up, and he unclasps your bra under your shirt.

“You have too much on,” he growls into your ear, biting your earlobe and making you mewl. You go to sit up and JJ leans back with you, helping you pull the shirt over your head and throwing it onto the floor, the bra following shortly after. And when you wrap your arms around your tits, he chuckles.

“You can ask me to fuck your brains out, but you don't want me to look at your pretty tits?”

“That's different,” you try to argue, but he kisses you again, taking your hands into his and placing them in his neck. And as soon as your fingers scratch over his scalp, he starts fondling your tits.

“You have the best fucking tits in the world, y/n. Trust me,” JJ smiles against your lips and kisses you another time. It's as if he has more fun edging you on than actually getting to the point, which was a simple fuck, not a full on make out session. And yet, you don't complain. No one has ever made you feel so beautiful and sexy with a few simple words and kisses, like JJ does.

He kisses himself down your body, sucking on your nipples, biting the inside of your thighs before burying his face in your cunt and you gasp.

“Fuck, JJ!” you cry out as he sucks on your clit and brings you so close to an orgasm that you see stars.

“Anything is a lot of things, baby,” JJ rasps before going back to eating you out. Plunging his long digits in your hot cunt and licking and sucking on your clit until you scream his name in pure ecstasy.

“You look so gorgeous when you scream my name, baby,” JJ smirks down at you, his face is smeared with your blood, and you think it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. Aside from it, the new nickname causes your stomach to flip and turn, making it impossible to think clearly.

“You got something right there,” you giggle and point at his face.

“You like it,” he rasps, but picks up one of the towels to wipe himself clean, but his skin remains tainted in a light pink.

“Just might,” you whisper and pull him down to kiss you while he tries his best to rid himself of his boxers. The faint metallic taste of your blood on his tongue is turning you on even more.

It's like your hand moves on autopilot when it snakes down between the two of you, grasping his hard dick and pumping him a few times before you push him to your entrance. JJ pulls away to look at you, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, eyes staring right into your soul as he pushes inside you. Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you try to get adjusted to the stretch of him.

“Oh fuck, y/n,” JJ moans, his forehead falling to yours. It feels too good to be true. It feels like he was made for you. Thick and long and perfect as he pulls out halfway and slams back into you.

“Feels so good, J,” you moan and claw at his back.

“So tight, baby,” he grunts, and his hands grope at your tits as he rolls his hips into yours at a deliciously slow pace. “Best pussy in the world.”

The praises cloud your mind just as much as the slow and deep thrusts he's giving you. And when he looks at you, it's as if you're the only two people on the planet and the world has stopped turning as soon as he found his home inside you.

“You're so good to me,” JJ whispers and kisses you again, his hands running down to your legs, hooking them around his waist. “My pretty girl,” he moans and fastens his pace. Ramming into you and making the headboard slap against the wall with it. He's rough and you love it. You love to see his primal desire to claim you as his, and you can't see any issues with it. Maybe you had ruined your friendship, but maybe this would be so much better than any friendship or relationship you have ever had before.

“Fuck, baby, tell me you're close,” JJ panted, the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead.

“So close,” you moan, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten impossibly as his hand slides down, and he starts rubbing harsh circles on your clit.

His blue eyes cross with yours one last time as he whispers, “be a good girl and cum for me.” The words go straight to your pussy, clamping down hard around him and screaming his name as you come undone for him.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” JJ moans, and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppier, his dick twitching inside you, and then he fills you up. Stilling deep inside you as he groans and shoots his cum into your heat, fucking it deeper into you with a few sloppy thrusts before he pulls out and falls down by your side.

“We should've done that way earlier,” you pant and smile up at the ceiling.

“Uh-huh,” JJ breathes, and you turn your head to look at him.

“You called me baby,” you whisper.

“You think I'm fake-flirting with you,” he chuckles and turns his head too.

“You are.”

“Never,” JJ hushes and kisses you again, but it feels different. Maybe that's what they called post-nut clarity because the way he looks at you feels different, the way he kisses you feels different, the way he says your name feels different.

“J?” you whisper, his head buried in your neck, sucking on your skin and licking over the mark he left on you before picking up his head to smile at you.

“Anything wrong?”

“You know why he broke up with me?” you whisper, and JJ shakes his head. “He said he could no longer compete with you, because you're in love with me, and I would leave him as soon as I found out. He's wrong, right?”

“Do you want him to be wrong?” JJ asks, and for once you can't read his face at all.

“I don't know.”

“He left you because he's scared of a hypothetical, that's fucking stupid. I would never leave you,” he smiles and kisses you again. Pulling away for just a second to smile at you and whisper, “love you too much to let you go.” And the kiss that follows is tender and truly loving, and you don't know what's happened, but you know he's not lying.

“Are you sure?” you whisper, needing the confirmation that he isn't just playing with you.

“I wouldn't mind if you lied to me about it. I'd give everything to be your baby-daddy, princess. I've known that since forever,” JJ admits, and your lips form a silent “oh.”

“How are your cramps?” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows, after everything you have completely forgotten how you got yourself into this situation.

“Better. Way better,” you nod and peck his lips as a small thank you.

“Good. I'm not gonna pressure you with labels and shit, you know. But I also don't go around fucking just anybody, especially not raw. Just think about it, love,” JJ whispers in your ear before getting up and leaving you lying there, a complete fucked out mess, but at least a happy mess.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimocarz @m2m2m2 @mochimms

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #obx smut #obx fanfiction #my writing #~fanfiction

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urlovebot · 1 year ago

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brat tamer jungwon 🫢🫢 in this essay i will...

cw: degradation, dumbification, dom!jungwon, one single tap to the face.

“You need to be quiet, angel.”

you couldnt help but moan out each time jungwon put his mouth on your cunt. the way he pressed slow kisses on the inside of your thighs, thumb rubbing over your clit. if we’re being honest, jungwon probably loved eating you out just as much as you loved getting ate out. his eyes would roll to the back of his head as you made a mess on his tongue.

“Won- Jungwon i cant- ah fuck- I dont think i can be quiet-”

jungwon scoffs, “You don’t want to be good for me today? let me take care of you?”

he dives back in, two fingers scissoring your opening.

you whimper out, “Jungwon its too much-”

jungwon looks up at you through his eyelashes, mouth still attached to your clit. he lets go with a bit of a pop,

“Fine. I’ll stop.”

He gets up and starts to pick up your discarded clothing.

“No- jungwon please come back.”

He drops all but one piece of clothing down to the floor. Instead of responding, he climbs on top of you, one knee fitted between your thighs, one hand caging the side of your head, the other is stuffing your panties in your mouth.

“Since you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut. Barking out orders like you’re the one in charge.”

His now freed hand is sliding down your body, dancing around where you need it most,

“Like you’re not here just for me to play with. ‘should be grateful i’m even toying with you tonight.”

jungwon stands back up, unbuckling his own jeans, “You take what I give you,” jungwon slides his cock between your folds, using your wetness as lube, “You know what i want to give you right now?”

you shake your head no, whimpering through your makeshift gag.

jungwon finally slides in, sheathed in your warmth and he shudders. his eyes squeeze close and he takes a deep breath before opening his eyes once more. He scans your body this time and under his gaze you feel small. his focus reaches back up to your face.

“if you’re really good for me, i’ll give you a big load, just like you deserve. you want that, baby?”

Jungwon grips at your waist as he’s pushing deep strokes into you. your eyes start to water and jungwon thinks you look prettiest like this. eyes red and sniffling from the pleasure he’s giving you. he wants to make you sob for how bad you were being earlier. he wants to rip every orgasm away from you until you’re mind fucked enough for you to only think about him and the control he has over your body.

he takes your cries as a yes and continues fucking deep into you. you try and push his hands from your waist, his cock nudging so deep into you it almost hurts-

“ah- dont fuckin’ run from it. what’d i say earlier?”

jungwon leans down and puts his mouth over yours, pulling your panties from your mouth with his teeth. he discards them to the side to give you a chance to respond but you cant, too fucked out to give a clear sentence.

jungwon grins, “that works too. repeat after me, sweet girl.”

he sweeps your hair from your face, one hand cradling your cheek, the other leaving crescent shaped indents on your waist,

“You are a good girl.”

your eyes are glassy and unfocused and jungwon can tell you arent all there, but he encourages you with a light tap to your face,

“c’mon baby, you can do it. tell me what you are.”

he stops fucking into you so that you can respond and you mumble your response but thats not good enough for jungwon. his brows furrow and the hand cradling your cheek moves to grip your neck, “Not good enough. again, y/n.”

this time you say it clearer, “i’m a good girl.”

jungwon chuckles in response and starts thrusting into you again, a little faster this time. “again.”

you repeat yourself and jungwon rewards you with a sloppy kiss.

had this dream last night and now im experiencing jungwon brain rot.

#enhypen #kpop #enhypen smut #kpop smut #smut #jungwon enhypen #jungwon #jungwon smut

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keoriette · 1 year ago

Text

🌹Hungry Eyes - Luffy x Reader

[NSFW + NO MINORS]

🌹Charater featured: Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Nami, Chopper (for now) 🌹Summary: Its crazy that's your sick buts its ok ur with luffy

The door creaks open and you whip your head to face it, eyes wide and alert.

Luffy’s head pokes around the door, his big brown eyes meeting yours. “Are you hungry?” he hisses through the darkness.

You blink at him. “It’s past midnight,” you whisper.

Luffy blinks back. “Sanji said you didn’t eat dinner.”

“Didn't want any.” Truth be told, even the thought of eating made you sick. Chopper said it might be an offshoot of the concussion you had when they brought you aboard the ship, but for the few weeks you’ve been on board you haven’t been able to keep much more than a single sandwich down.

“Chopper says you have to eat. Sanji too.”

“You’re not my captain, you know,” you say bitterly.

Luffy just looks at you. “You’re on my ship. And you’re my friend.”

You frown. You were starting to understand Luffy’s nature, the delicate balance between his selfishness and loyalty to the people he cares about.

As soon as you were taken aboard, barely conscious and only half alive, Luffy had taken a liking to you. He had a knack for that, you’d heard, for picking up people based on very limited interactions and whisking them away to be part of his crew.

You weren’t interested in the crew part, and Luffy understood that. But because he had decided to become your friend he couldn’t just drop you off at any island: he needed to take you someplace you’d be safe.

Chopper has barely let you out of the medical room, only allowing a short daily walk if the weather permits. Otherwise, you’re stuck in the small cabin, the other crew members too busy to bother with your company. You aren't a mean person by any means, but your silence around others was usually seen as arrogance. The lonely nights you’ve spent in the room have only been broken up by thoughts of this pirate captain; and his strong, thick, slender fingers in places you wouldn’t mention aloud.

“I was having a snack,” he continues, creeping into the room. The only light filters through the small window, lighting his body with cool moonshine. “I thought you might want some. Only a little, though, because I ate the rest.” He offers you a few cubes of meat on a plate. You sit up and accept it wordlessly, placing it at the end of the bed.

Something in the moonlight catches your eye, and you turn to face him before your lips part slightly in surprise. Oh my god, you think, cheeks starting to burn. He’s shirtless.

The glow of the light catches on his burn scar, crossing across his muscular chest. He folds his thick arms over it, and your gaze drops to his shorts, hanging low on his hips. You shut your eyes.

Luffy squats down in front of you. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks softly. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I just need some sleep,” you say through gritted teeth, “but I’m fine.”

“Not until you eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat. That’s an order.”

“You’re not my captain.”

“So? I’m still your friend, and friends feed each other.”

Your mouth twists. It was hard to argue with him because of his natural bluntness. “Don’t you have something else to worry about?”

Luffy shakes his head.

“Like marines? Or Kaido?”

“Not right now.”

He sits down next to you and his forearm brushes against yours. You peek at his fingers, calloused and thick, in his lap.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he mutters.

You blink at him. He's moving a little fast, and you're straining to keep up. But you suppose that's just how he is.

“When you’re hurt. I really…” He takes a deep breath. “I really don’t like it. It makes me feel bad.” He turns to face you, his eyes big and brown and full of something that borders on desperate. “Will you please eat?” He says softly, taking one of your hands in his.

You go rigid, eyes widening. The feel of his skin on yours makes your entire body tingle. His hands grip yours tightly, and you find it hard to meet his eyes.

“I…” you start. You try to unravel your hands from his, but he doesn’t let go, searching for your eyes. You finally let them meet, and it’s then when you realize that he doesn’t see you as a regular crewmate, or even a friend: Luffy wears his heart on his sleeve, and his eyes speak volumes about how he feels about you.

Little things start to click into place. He’s here, late at night, when he loves to sleep. He brought you meat even though he wouldn’t let most of his crew touch it. He peeks his head in when he thinks you’re sleeping. Chopper had mentioned, once, completely offhand, that Luffy asks about you almost daily.

What you don’t know, however, is that the entire crew has picked up on his crush on you and that you weren’t being avoided because you come across as arrogant: you were being avoided so that Luffy could have some space with you. It’s necessary, actually, because although the crew is oftentimes more than willing to get to know a new person on board, Luffy is anything but subtle: the most obvious example being when Zoro found him with his ear pressed against the crack of the door, fisting his cock in his hand, hanging onto every tinny mewl and moan of yours as you whispered his name, your fingers breaching your entrance and rapidly circling your engorged clit.

Zoro knows better than to interrupt Luffy, even when it’s this desperate of a case. He just let the rest of the crew know, in hushed whispers, that you were kind of off-limits, and that the next island would be approaching soon. Nami had sighed because she thought you were cute. Robin had sighed because she thought you seemed smart. Sanji had sighed because you’re a girl, but they all swallowed their annoyances because it’s their captain: and how can they trust him to lead them when you’re the only thing on his mind?

They noticed that this was a real crush and that he was thinking with his heart and not just with his cock. It was usually the latter, and he’d come back to the Sunny only a little before sunrise, after a full night of partying on an unknown island, exhausted. It was clear he always made the most of his time anywhere.

You try again. “I…”

Luffy takes this moment to get a little closer and your breath catches in your throat. His lips are so close to yours you can feel him breathe, and he gets closer and closer and to your horror, you realize that you’re not pulling away. That you don’t want to pull away.

The kiss isn’t what you expect—it’s not clumsy or sloppy. It’s gentle but firm and surprisingly practiced. His lips are so warm against yours, slightly chapped and a little salty. When he parts your lips with his, you let him, and his tongue isn’t hungry or invasive. It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had, and when he cups the back of your neck you gingerly touch his bicep. The muscle moves when he does, and you feel a rush of wetness down below.

It actually doesn’t really surprise you, the more you think about it. Luffy is always stopping at different islands, some more exciting than others, and people naturally flock to him. You assume that this also means women, and his high bounty and cheerful demeanor as well as his broad shoulders and muscular frame were enough to light a fire in some of the young women they came across. Besides, you thought absentmindedly, he has to get his energy from somewhere.

The kiss gets a little hungrier before it stops, and you realize that he’s left you breathless. Your hand fists the sheets involuntarily, already thinking about what you’re going to do the moment you’re alone.

“I like you,” he whispers, rubbing his nose against yours.

Your mouth snaps shut. “Why?”

Luffy shrugs. “I don’t really know. I’m just kind of…” he laces his fingers with yours, and you drop your eyes down to look. “Drawn to you, I guess.” He scratches the back of his head with his free hand, pulling away slightly. “I like girls. I know people sometimes think I don’t, but I do.”

You chuckle a little.

“Maybe it’s because I’m short,” he muses.

“You’re not that short,” you tease. “You’re at least two inches taller than me.”

A glint appears in his eyes as he peers at you. “How do you know?”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve never been this close. How do you know I’m taller?”

You fidget uncomfortably, caught between a rock and a hard place. On your brief walks around the ship, you often glance over in Luffy’s direction; and a few times you even got close enough to see the many repairs that had been made to his treasured straw hat.

“I just…you’re a guy, right?” you say, at a complete loss for words. You can’t believe that’s the best you can come up with.

Luffy laughs then, leaning forward for another kiss. It’s more gentle this time, but his hands start to roam over your body. Nothing too explicit, just your lower back as he fingers the hem of your thin t-shirt, but even that has your cunt clenching around nothing.

Wordlessly, you break the kiss to grip the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and off of your frame in one sure movement.

You hunch over a little, your blushed face slightly embarrassed that even you were taking things quickly in such a direction, but these weeks on the ship have left you needy for any sort of contact. Plus, he had just admitted that he likes you, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have his wanted poster in your room back home. The thrill of finding out that he had rescued you was tempered by Chopper's strict instructions and the crew's indifference. But every time you saw him on the ship, whether it was fishing or bringing you a cup of soup, made you grip into the pillow and cry out his name as softly as you could.

He leans in to kiss you again, this time gently running his knuckles over the side of your breast. You let out a soft whine, your hand falling from his hair into his lap, directly on top of his hard length that is throbbing painfully in his shorts.

He hisses at the contact, catching your lip in his teeth and biting lightly. His hands leave your body to remove his shorts, his cock hot in your hand as you give it a few tentative strokes.

He dips his fingers into the side of your panties, and you do your best to shimmy out of them.

“You’re wet,” he whispers, his fingers softly rubbing your soaked folds. Luffy presses against you until you’re laying down on the mattress with his body keeping you there. “I like it when you’re really wet,” he mumbles.

He pulls back, sucking on his fingers with eye contact so heavy you feel pinned to the bed. Slowly, he makes his way towards you again, nipping at your jaw.

He presses his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?” he breathes into your ear, and you nod. You wrap your legs around his waist, pressing his cock into his contracting abdomen as he places one hand under your bottom and the other around your waist. He stands, and you lift off the bed, his strength making you drip with arousal. Luffy’s steps stammer as he tries to keep kissing you while walking towards the wall, the cold surface making your nipples perk up as he presses you against it.

His lips leave yours and you chase his mouth with a whine, but gasp when you feel his leaking tip prod against your wet entrance.

“I really, really want to,” he gasps against your neck, pressing his face into your warm skin. “I-I’ll try to be gentle, I just really want you…”

Your hands grip his back, trying to pull his body closer to yours. A soft moan escapes your lips when he hits your clit. “I really want you, too,” you murmur.

His cock is long and stiff, and your eyes roll back just from thinking about it inside you.

Slowly, he starts to breach your entrance, hissing as the fat head is swallowed by your desperate cunt. You gasp at the pressure, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Jeez,” he mutters through grit teeth, sweat starting to glisten on his face. “You’re tight.”

You clench around his length as he continues to push inside, his hands gripping your body with bruising force. The concentration on his face is endearing, and your heart melts a little. He wants you to feel good, too, and he’s trying his hardest to keep from fucking you as hard as he can.

His cock bumps something inside you and you let out a lustful moan.

Luffy twitches inside you. “Th-that noise, make that noise again,” he groans, starting to move. He starts out gently, but it isn’t long before he’s bottoming out with each thrust. You moan louder, tears pricking at your eyes as his cock hits deeper. His thrusts become harder and rougher and more impulsive and you can tell he’s getting close. You moan again, the noise escaping from your lips involuntary despite his begging.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says through gritted teeth. “Is-is it okay if I…?”

You grip his shoulders tightly. “Please cum inside me,” you whimper.

It’s music to Luffy’s ears, and he wastes no time in pushing his cock up to the hilt inside you. You tighten around him as his orgasm starts, his hips stuttering and eyes fluttering closed.

The shots of his hot cum painting your tight pussy walls make you groan aloud, your head falling back to rest on the wall. Your thighs are burning from being held up, but nothing could distract you from his labored moans and stuttering breaths.

He rests his head next to yours as he comes down from his high, his heart rate slowing to normal. He places his hands under your thighs, still holding you up, his strength obvious and unwavering.

“Sorry…” he mumbles, still breathing hard.

You shake your head. “It’s okay,” you whisper. You have to admit you’re a little surprised, you had assumed his stamina matched the rest of him.

His cock twitches inside you, and you realize with a start that he didn’t get soft. “Let me try again,” he murmurs against your neck, walking back to the bed.

He drops you down and you giggle for the first time in weeks, earning a warm smile from him. It feels like the sun, even though it’s the middle of the night. He climbs on top of you, slotting his body between your legs, pressing a hot kiss to your lips. One of your hands pulls his head down closer, the other grips the defined muscle on his arms. He hums, then pulls away, looking down at you with hungry eyes. His gaze flits from your eyes to your lips, shifting his weight so he can run his big hand over your breast. You whine, and he gets bolder, pinching your nipple almost to the point of pain.

“Ah-“ you grunt out, body jerking. With you caged in under him he decides to chart your body with his hands, finding the spots you like to be touched the most. He's already used you for his pleasure, embarrassing as it may sound, and now it’s your turn.

He places a wet kiss under your jaw, taking note of the noises you make. He remembers listening to you from behind the door, the squelch of your wet cunt being rubbed by your own fingers, his name falling from your lips in soft pants. He continues to pepper you with kisses, running his hand down your stomach to settle in between your lips. He spreads them gently, earning a small moan from you, and seeks out your sweet little bud of pleasure. He figures that you like how strong he is, judging from how much you dripped when he picked you up. He flexes his chest and abdomen a little bit, and you hungrily run your hands over him. He smirks at you, and you know you’ve been caught. You smile sheepishly.

He presses his hand against yours, stopping you right over his heart. It thumps under your hand, and the gesture is so intimate, so mature, that you fight to urge to burst into tears.

The aching in your core is unbearable now, and Luffy’s inexperience becomes known as he clumsily rubs your clit. You assume that most women are content to be used as his own little cocksleeve, bouncing away to orgasm on his lap as he settles his face between their breasts. Or, more likely, he pins them against a bed and ruts endlessly until he spills.

You’re different, he can tell, and you’re not blinded by his notoriety.

Luffy bites his lip. He knows this isn’t his strong suit, but he’s determined nonetheless. You replace his hands with yours, rubbing practiced circles on your clit as he explores your folds. He dips a finger inside, sighing at your wetness. His fingers feel nice, but nothing compared to his fat cock, and you use your eyes to beg for it.

Your fingers stay at your clit while he presses his cock into your tight heat.

You whimper as he continues to push, stretching you open at an angle that has tears in your eyes. It's so much deeper than when he was fucking you against the wall, and when he finally bottoms out, you let out a delicious moan.

Luffy grits his teeth, his hips repeatedly pressing against yours, forcing the metal headboard to smack against the wall. "Th-that sound..."

He reaches down to feel your hand, and the closeness of it as well as Luffy's eagerness squeezes another hot moan from your mouth.

"I want to feel what you're doing," he pants into your open mouth before sealing it with a kiss. You continue to rub faster, his hand on yours adding a luscious pressure.

Your voice starts to come through in more than moans and whines, little squeaks of praise about how good his cock feels inside you. He desperately wants you to reach that high you're chasing, but your pussy is starting to clench around him and the thought of you cumming around his cock has him holding in his orgasm like his life depends on it.

"I'm close again," he gasps. "Can you cum for me? Please?"

That does it. The tight coil in your belly snaps, and you toss your head from side to side, crying out as you shake under him. "Luffy--" you shout, your voice strangled.

He continues to thrust into you, babbling praise. "I've never done it like this," he gasps, tripping over his words. "I really liked seeing you cum, and I like how wet you are. I like that you're so tight and I like the noises you make and I--" He whines your name as he cums again; his cum dripping out from between your red, swollen lips.

He looks down at you, panting, the lids of his eyes heavy.

"That was..." you start, "unexpected."

Luffy chuckles. "But good?" he asks hopefully.

You look away. "It was perfect," you whisper. "I...kinda want to tell you something."

He rolls off of you and you scoot over, barely making any room on the tiny medical bed. He opens his arms and you climb in between them, grateful for the time to rest. You lay your head on his chest as he strokes your hair tenderly. "What is it?"

You take a deep breath. "I have your wanted poster up in my room at home."

Luffy pauses, the gears turning in his head, then laughs.

You giggle. "I know, I know..."

He rests his arm on your shoulder, the other stroking your forearm. "It's cute," he says finally, "I like that."

You smile against his chest. Maybe joining a pirate crew isn't such a bad idea.

#luffy x reader #luffy smut #monkey d. luffy #one piece smut #luffy x reader smut #opla smut #opla spoilers #opla luffy #one piece x reader #luffy x you #one piece live action

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playstation-dreamcast · 6 months ago

Text

Doppelganger!Francis x Reader

Content warnings: Monsterfucking, cunnilingus, Unprotected PIV sex, and general smutty materiel. Minors DNI

Reader is female

“So, is everything in order?” He sounded like he was going to pass out where he stood, but that wasn’t shocking for Francis. You were convinced that getting eight hours of sleep would actually kill him, or that tiredness was wound into his DNA. It was the only thing that made his chronic fatigue make sense.

“Yeah, you should be good to go.” You nodded, double checking his ID one last time. Even the date checked out. “Have a nice night Francis.” You said as you opened the door.

“Thanks Doll.” You felt like liquid nitrogen had been injected into you. You looked up just in time to see his slick grin as he rushed to get through the door you just opened. He called you Doll. He called you Doll.

That wasn’t Francis. You’d spoken to Francis countless times, and he never once called you Doll. He called you Ms, Ma’am, Boss that one time as a joke, and your name, but never, not once had he called you Doll.

That wasn’t Francis.

Thankfully, your body reacted when your mind went blank, and lurched forward, closing the door at the last possible second. Spine numbing anger flashed across his face, before being replaced with a look of forced confusion.

“Uh, Y/n? What’s wrong?” The creature asked. Your hand hovered over the danger button, ready to press it when his words stopped you in your tracks. You wanted to press the button, but knew if you did you’d be haunted by what he just said forever.

“How do you know my name?” You finally brought yourself to ask. The creature smirked, realizing he was caught and letting the tired, shy facade finally fall.

“I’m here all the time, Doll. I know everyone’s name. But, yours is my favorite.” Your mind raced for incident reports, dead neighbors or pets, any sign recently that a doppelganger had been in your apartment. And your mind came up blank.

“You’re lying.” You accused, incensed that he would imply that he could get by you… Despite the fact he just almost got by you. He scoffed at your words.

“What? Just because I haven’t killed anyone?” He almost laughed, “I don’t come here to eat Doll, this place is fucking rancid for that. I come here for personal reasons.”

“And what are your personal reasons?”

“You.” You really did not like that answer, despite the fact you pressed your thighs together as he said it. On one hand, he was a bloodthirsty monster that just kinda confessed to stalking you. On the other, You’d been getting yourself off to the thought of his current form for weeks now, and you couldn’t remember the last time anyone expressed that level of desire for you that blatantly.

“Me?” You finally found words, “Why me, what the hell do you want with me?!”

“Open the door and I’ll show you.” His tone was dark, almost threatening.

“You must think I’m stupid.” You scoffed.

“No, I think you’re a mess.” He laughed. “I think you’re a frustrated mess who’s fingers aren’t doing it for her anymore.” You couldn’t tell if your blood heated or chilled realizing just how closely he’d been watching you. “I also think I look exactly like the guy who’s too fucking stupid to see how you look at him, and I can help with your frustration. If you open the door.” He grinned, his teeth all too sharp.

“What makes you think I would even want a doppel like you?” You tried to shoot back, despite the fact you were fidgeting in your chair to distract yourself from the pooling in between your legs, and the fact that it was quickly becoming impossible to look at Not Francis. “You’re not my milkman.”

“No, I’m better in every way.” He purred, “And I promise I can fuck you better than his limp dick can.”

“I’m not opening the door.” You stated, as firm as your voice would let you. Which, wasn’t very firm at all.

“Why not? I’ve clearly been here before without hurting anyone.” He took a deep breath and almost growled, “Come on Doll, I can smell how bad you want me through the window. I’ll take such good care of you, you just got to open the door first.” He purred, pressing himself far too close to the window, as if the pure power of his desire could make him phase through it.

“Give me one good reason why I should.” You huffed, quickly losing your resolve as hazel eyes undressed you.

“Other than the ones I already gave?” He grumbled taking a step back, “Fine.” And with that, He opened his mouth, letting his long, thick purple tongue hang out. It was thick and forked, and he moved it with ease to show you just how dexterous he was with it. Your pussy clenched at the thought of it bullying your clit, or better yet your insides. He put the obscene appendage away with a more obscene smirk. “And if you like that, You should see my d-”

You opened the door.

He almost laughed. “I knew you were a desperate slut.” He said as he walked through the door. His parting comment filled you with dread at the thought of what you’d just done, but the soft knock on your door, followed by the click of it being opened revitalized your want.

“And you’re going to be my desperate slut. Isn’t that right, Doll?” The way he said “Doll” Should have petrified you, but instead, it electrified you. The feeling got more intense as he placed his hands on your hips, kicking the door closed behind him as he pulled you into a domineering kiss. You had to admit, you never really thought Francis would be the type to do all of this.

You melted into the doppelgangers monstrous hands as he kissed down your jaw to your neck. You let out a sharp whine as razor teeth bit into your neck, panic filled you as you stood frozen, realizing the mistake you’d made. He pulled back when he felt you tense up.

“Don’t worry Doll,” He said, taking your chin in his forefinger and thumb and guiding you to look into his still tired hazel eyes, “I don’t plan on eating you like that. I just want everyone to know who you belong to now.” He purred as he looked at the dark mark he left on your neck. His handiwork looked good on you.

“Belong too?” You asked, trying to ignore how he gently massaged your hips, and the intensity in his eyes as he looked at you.

“That's what I said.” His lips were back on yours before you could protest, the thick purple tongue from earlier dancing with your own. He held you what felt impossibly close as he sat you down on your desk, hiking up your skirt. His hands slid down your body, fingertips brushing against your clothed folds, and feeling just how wet your panties were.

“Aww, look at you Doll,” He purred into your ear, “So needy for me,” dexterous fingers pushing your underwear to the side, “You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked as he lazily ran his fingers up and down your slit.

“Uh huh,” You muttered, trying to buck your hips into his fingers to gain more friction.

“Gonna need better than that Doll,” He scoffed, removing his hand. “Use your words.”

“Yes!”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll be good.” You groaned.

“Atta girl,” He grinned, returning his hand to your core. Electricity shot through your whole body as he finally touched your clit, rubbing rough and delebriate circles there. You moaned softly, gripping his shoulders as he set his rhythm. You bucked your hips into his hand in time with him, feeling the excitement building inside of you.

You almost punched him when he moved his hand.

“Francis!” You snapped.

“Not my name.” he chuckled as he fell to his knees. You were about to ask for his name, when pleasure shot through you, your hands tangling in his hair for support. That obscene tongue from earlier was hungrily lapping at you, eating you out like a starving man devouring a feast. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.” He groaned as his tongue pushed inside of you, stretching you out in the most perfect way. The indecent sound that left you should have embarrassed you, but considering a doppel was eating you out and you were cool with that, It was safe to assume not much could embarrass you anymore.

You felt your thighs quiver like the last leaves on autumn trees as he found that all too sensitive soft spot inside you. He must have felt it, because suddenly his attention was focused entirely on bullying that spot. You could feel the tension rising and your blood heating up. Like a piece of tissue paper caught in an inferno, you were consumed by the monster under you.

You felt a knot in your stomach begin to tighten as you rode his face. His hand left your thigh to rub your clit, and it was all over. You were launched over the edge as fireworks exploded behind your eyes and your head filled with cotton. Ecstasy shot through you from your core outward, reaching every part of your tingling body.

Not Francis pulled back with a smarmy, self satisfied smirk. He pulled you into a possessive kiss, giving you a taste of not only his suspiciously coppery flavor, but your own. He grinned as he pulled back.

“See how fantastic you taste?” He teased.

“Better than you, that’s for sure.” you teased back.

“Oh, you want a taste of me?” He chuckled as he let you go, though, you could tell he wasn’t particularly interested in your mouth at the moment. You watched as he undid his belt, revealing an honestly intimidating tent. You bit your lip and watched as he pushed his boxers down to reveal a monstrous cock.

And we’re not talking size here, though that could also fall under the monstrous category. It went beyond that though, his cock was…alien. Inhumanly thick, and as purple as his tongue, with ridges running from base to leaking tip. The term ribbed for her pleasure came to mind. It kinda threw you off for a second to be honest.

“I wanted to fuck you with my cock, not his.” The monster said as he took you into his arms, lifting you up and holding you over his dick, “Hope that's fine.”

“Please.” You begged softly, and you didn’t know it but the creature decided then and there that you belonged to him, whether you liked it or not.

“You freaky slut.” He laughed, and you wanted to tell him off, but you were cut off by him pushing you down on him, all the way to the base, in one smooth motion. Your pussy clenched around the intrusion, causing him to moan indecently in your ear. Thankfully he paused to let you adjust to him, a courtesy that you wouldn’t have managed without.

You could feel every ridge of him inside you, and his tip pressed snuggly against your sweet spot. He peppered your neck with almost gentle kisses, trying to coax you into relaxing. Finally, you took a breath and nodded, giving him permission to move.

And move he did. He set a steady but brutal pace, chasing both your high and his own inside of you. You whined as grabbed his hair as he pressed you against a wall for better leverage. A familiar feeling started to quickly build up inside of your already sensitive body.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he rasped out, getting lost in your warm cunt, “Like you were fucking made for me Doll.”

“I’m so close…” you gasped at a particularly sharp thrust.

“Yeah?” He said, smiling cockily at you, “You gonna come for me doll?” You nodded, already seeing stars. Your blood felt like it was made of lava and your thighs already shook with anticipation. You felt something warm and wet lap at your clit.

“Then cum for me.” he smirked with teeth far too sharp. If you weren’t so close to the edge, you would have realized the shapeshifter had grown an extra mouth above his cock to get you off. But, you were on the edge, and the extra stimulation of him sucking you sent you not just tumbling, but into full free fall. You felt like you had gone through a whole body reset, waves after waves of ecstasy and dopamine hitting you again and again, like a small boat on the ocean during a hurricane.

The clench of your cunt sent him over the edge, his hold on you tightening into a bruising grip as he sank his teeth into your neck to stifle the obscenities coming from his mouth. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, him pressing you into the wall, refusing to pull out. you , hanging limp in his arms as you tried to catch your breath.“So…” You muttered as you finally recovered, “What is your name?”

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #francis x reader #doppelganger francis mosses #doppelganger francis x reader #francis x reader smut #tnmn francis mosses #tnmn milkman #monsterfucking

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hiyashortking · 26 days ago

Text

Drunk Dialing Lucifer

Disclaimers and credit: read this post before reading any of my content, please.

Extra warning for this one: There are two suicide comments in the forms of “dark jokes” from the you/reader character. These comments are not challenged and they might hurt to read. Take care of yourselves, darlings. Suicide is not funny and if this was a full novel I would make sure to address that.

Summary: You drunk text and drunk dial Lucifer. He does the same for you later to help you cope with your embarrassment.

Text Message Exchanges

You: i want to duck you so bad, and ducking call you daddy the whole ducking time

Lucifer: Angel, are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?

You: this is not angeldust

You: duck, luci, it’s y/n

Lucifer: Yes, of course, darling. Where are you? Are you with someone? I tried calling but you’re not picking up. I’m worried.

You: im drunk

Lucifer: It appears so. Where are you?

You: i dnt know

Lucifer: Who are you with, darling?

You: vag char ad nifffff f f ty

Lucifer to Charlie: Cherub, can you check on Y/N and let me know if they’re okay?

Charlie: They’re fine. Should I take their phone?

Lucifer: No, that’s okay, sweetheart. Thank you! Have fun!

Lucifer to Vaggie: Maggie, can you check on Y/N and let me know if they’re okay?

Vaggie: Yes, Sir.

Vaggie: They are intoxicated. It appears 3 Long Island Iced Teas have been fully consumed. With their weight and height, this does not appear to be concerning, though I will prevent any further intake. They appear to be in good spirits, though unable to stand without assistance at this time. I will provide ongoing monitoring and support. Is this satisfactory?

Lucifer: 👍

Lucifer to Angel Dust: Angel Dust, can you check on Y/N and let me know if they’re okay?

Angel Dust: oh no Y/N and I are in big trouble, we need a powerful, strong, sexy man to come save us

Lucifer: Are you serious? Tell me where you are and I’ll be right there!

Angel Dust: relaxxx, daddy, all of your princesses and princes are just fine, but hmu later if you’re feeling lonely

Incoming Call from Y/N

Lucifer: Hi, sweetheart. I’ve been reassured that you are safe and well.

You: You are so pretty. Do you know that? I hope you know that.

Lucifer: Why, thank you. That is very sweet!

You: You have gorgeous eyes and I love your teeth. I bet it’s easy for you to make someone bleed; I bet you can’t even nibble on someone without piercing their skin.

Lucifer: Oh my. I should be sitting down for this.

You: I should be sitting on your face.

Lucifer: That- that can be arranged, darling. I didn’t know you felt like this about me. Or is it the alcohol talking? Shoot, should I be ending this conversation to prevent any miscommunication or possible embarrassment? What is the social protocol here? Oh- well, I guess you can’t tell me that right now-

You: Ssssshhhh

Lucifer: Oh! Of course. Yes, shushing. Shushing now.

You: You talk SO MUCH.

Lucifer: Ah, yes, sometimes I do.

You: I love listening to you talk.

Lucifer: You did just shush me, but I’ll try to believe you.

You: Oh fuck, I’m sooo sorry-

Lucifer, laughing: I’m joking, darling, it’s okay.

Lucifer: You okay? Are you still there?

You: Yeah, hold on.

You, muffled: Huh? I’m talking to Luci. I’m trying to tell him how much I want to ride his dick.

Lucifer: Oh my!

You: What do you mean am I sure? I don’t know. Are you sure? Wait-

Call Ended

Text Message Exchanges

Vaggie to Lucifer: Sir, I believe Y/N to be making poor decisions. I have confiscated their phone and will bring them home shortly.

Lucifer: You’re the best!

Vaggie: Update. Y/N has been properly hydrated and brought to their room. They have fallen asleep.

Lucifer: Thanks, Magz. Charlie home okay, too?

Vaggie: Yes, Sir. Getting ready to sleep, as well.

Lucifer: Excellent, you rock! 🔥🔥🔥

The Day After

Text Message Exchanges

Lucifer to You: Good morning, beautiful. I hope you’re feeling well. Would you like me to bring you some breakfast?

You: I’m grounded. I’m not allowed to eat or drink and I’m definitely NOT allowed to text you. I am fucking mortified. Vaggie said I had the audacity to call you? I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.

Lucifer: Oh, stop! I was wildly flattered by what you were saying, but surely you didn’t mean any of it and it was just the alcohol speaking.

You: You’re too kind. I’m a degenerate and I will punish myself accordingly.

Lucifer: Hey, now! All you said was that you wanted to duck me! I’m not even sure what that means. I am so very old, you see. 😜 For all I know, it means you’d like to hold my— hand.

You: I wish I wasn’t already dead.

Lucifer: Beautiful, please stop! I will wipe the night from my memories if that is your wish.

You: PLEASE.

Lucifer: Okay. Can we start over?

You: Yes, please.

Lucifer: I think you’re very pretty.

You: Stop!

Lucifer: And I’d very much like it if you sat on my face.

You: AAAHHHH delete my number, I’m blocking you and setting myself on fire.

Lucifer: Nononononono I’m joking, please don’t!

You: 😭 How am I ever going to be able to look you in the eye ever again? I am MOVING and changing my name.

Lucifer: Okay, okay. I have an idea.

Lucifer: I’m going to get drunk and call you tonight.

You: That … might actually help.

Lucifer: Excellent! I’ve been known to make a huge fool out of myself while intoxicated, so this should cancel out your behavior, and even earn you some credits to say plenty of lewd things to me in the future.

You: 🤦 We’ll see about that.

Later That Night

Incoming Call From Lucifer

You: Wow, you’re really doing it, huh?

Lucifer: I did not think this through.

You: What do you mean?

Lucifer: Well, now I’m drunk, and I’m alone in my room, in the hotel, very close to where your room is, and I’m having a really hard time not just walking over to you.

You: Oh yeah, and what would you do then?

Lucifer: I would ask for permission to kiss you.

You: Damn, even drunk you are polite.

Lucifer: Not polite, just bare minimum decent.

You: I’m wet.

Lucifer: What?

You: I said, I bet.

Lucifer: Hm, well, you see, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to kiss you. Your lips seem so plump and soft. You once struggled to lick something off of them at dinner and I’ve come to that image of you in my mind.

You: Oh shit!

Lucifer: Is that okay?

You: Yes. Fuck yes. Tell me more.

Lucifer: I love the way you smell and desperately want to taste you.

Lucifer: I want to taste your lips and your tongue and your face, your neck.

Lucifer: I want to feel your skin and squeeze your ass. Fuck, I can’t talk about your ass.

You: Yes, slow down. What do you want to taste after my neck?

Lucifer: Your tits. I want to see and inhale and touch and tongue and gently pinch. I want to worship your body. I want to make you come by sucking on your tits.

You shake a little as you let out a breath.

Lucifer: I want to fucking devour your thighs. They are magnificent. I want them around my head, around my waist. I want my hands and tongue all over them, every inch. I want to see your fat jiggle when I slap my cock down on them.

You, whispering: Oh for fuck’s sake …

Lucifer: Darling, I think I’m out of liquor.

You: Wha-

Lucifer: Have I done a good enough job for you tonight, or would you like me to continue? I could go down to the bar and get some more.

You: …

Lucifer: Precious, are you there?

You, clearing your throat: I-I’m here. It’s okay. I have completely different reasons now to feel embarrassed and like I can’t look you in the eye.

Lucifer: Oh no, that was not the intention.

You try to settle your breathing.

Lucifer: I’m outside your door.

You: No. No, go away.

Lucifer: My safe word is Duckling. Use it and I’ll go away.

You: …

Lucifer: Open your door, beautiful. I want you to be comfortable around me.

You: I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming.

Lucifer: You are entirely in control. Say the word, and I will go back to my room, or I’ll go downstairs for another drink. Tell me what you desire and I will make it real.

You twist the handle and pull open the door.

Call Ended

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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braxlrose · 1 year ago

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request: bill kaulitz x self-destruct reader hcs😌 I mean, she knows she's hurting herself but she doesn't care? doesn't sleep (and even if she does, she goes to bed very late and then gets up very late, so she's usually restless, tired and barely alive/ barely in touch with reality), barely eats (and even if she eats little , I drink too much energy drinks and takes tranquilizer pills), probably does sh and takes drugs (cigarettes, alcohol and drugs) and it all makes her look practically zombie but she likes this lifestyle?

cw: self harm, alcoholic tendencies, drugs, slight ED, toxic relationship, tons of angst, swearing, NOT PROOFREAD.

bill kaulitz x self-destruct reader

• when you two first met, it was at a party and you guys ended up sleeping together that night. you fell asleep right after so he ended up staying the night at your hotel room.

• when you woke up in the morning, you brushed your teeth and then went over to your drawer to get on new clothes when you felt hands on your hips.

• you turned around to see bill smiling at you. "Sooo, how long do I have to wait before I can ask you out on a date, hmm?" you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

• "Uhmm, never? You don't wanna have to deal with my shit." you said as you pulled your jeans up.

• "Oh come on, everybody has shit."

• "Not like me. So, you should just go." you pulled on your shirt and turned back to him. He was just staring at you, smiling for God-knows-what. you had to admit, he looked amazing. he only had his boxers on, and he looked great shirtless.

• "I'll get you one day, y/n y/l/n." he smiled at you and pulled on his clothes. you rolled your eyes as he kissed you on the forehead and left.

• then you two met again at a music festival and that's when you finally decides to give him a chance after the hours of flirting he spent on you. you weren't scared though, you were sure he'd leave after he saw what you were really like. and you had accepted that.

That was a couple weeks ago. Bill became very aware of the "shit" you were talking about pretty quickly.

• whenever you were at a party with bill you'd always drink too much to the point where you couldn't see straight and your head was pounding like no tomorrow. Bill would take you back to your hotel room and lay you down on your bed and tuck you in. Then he'd sit with you until you finally fell asleep since he knew you'd just stay awake if he didnt.

• one night, you were completely wasted and he had to carry you back to your hotel. again.

"Mmm... Billy I want you soooo bad. pretty pleaaaasee?" you whispered in his ear, giggling and pouting as he unlocked your door and dragged you inside.

"You're drunk. That's not happening, okay?" He said, setting you down on your bed and beginning to wipe your makeup off.

"But Billy..." You'd whine and pout, while he'd just sit there and comb through your hair till you fell fast asleep.

"Goodnight, Schatzi." He'd whisper to you and place a kiss on your forehead.

• you'd also get angry a lot. you were in your hotel room, bawling your eyes out on the bathroom floor. It was 11 PM. your wrists were bleeding a bit from you scratching at them for so long, and your cheeks were bright red from the crying.

• you just wanted to sit there forever and wallow in your own self pity when you heard the door to your hotel open.

"Y/n! You in here?" Bill yelled to you, as you did your best to stand up and wipe your tears away. You gazed at your eyes in the mirror and there were streaks of mascara running down your face. You wiped them off your cheeks and opened the bathroom door to greet him.

"Hey! What're you doing here?" He turned around to see you but you saw his face drop.

"Are you okay? Were you crying in there?" He pointed to the bathroom. You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you closed the door. You pushed the inner part of your arms against yourself so he didn't notice.

"What? God no, I'm just tired. You should probably go." You said as you walked past him and started to change your clothes. He walked over to you and slightly grabbed your chin with his hand. He tilted his head at you and ran his fingers through your hair.

"Come on, just tell me what's wrong." You slapped his hand away and pulled on some shorts.

"I said I'm just fucking tired! Will you back the fuck off?!" You pushed him away and went to grab a new shirt to sleep him. He was bringing up emotions you didn't want to feel. You wiped away a couple tears when you felt his arms wrap around you. He placed some kisses on your shoulders and rubbed his cheek against you.

"I'm here for you, okay? Let me help you.." You could feel anger boiling up inside you. Your eye twitched. He's acting like you needed to be fixed or something. Why would he say shit like this?! You turned yourself around and pushed your hands against his shoulders trying to push his away.

"Can you get the fuck off of me! I don't need your fucking with anything just get the fuck away!" you yelled at him, tears pouring down your cheeks now. You slammed your hand against his shoulder trying to push him away.

"You don't need to push me away, y/n! It's okay!" He wrapped his arms tightly around you as more and more tears came flooding from you.

Your finger nails dug into his shoulders, harder and harder with every word. You could see him wincing in pain but he only hugged you tighter. Why would he want this?

• you hated that he stayed around. you didn't understand why he'd wanna be with someone like you? you set yourself on a path of destruction and ruined everything in your path, why would he take his chances like this?

• you were laying down in your bed when bill came around again. like before, tears were running down your cheeks and mascara was wiped all over your face but you were just laying there. not feeling anything. you had taken a couple different kinds of drugs so you were basically emotionless at this point.

• when bill walked in, he dropped everything and ran to your aid. he sat on the bed and cupped your cheek in his hand to make you look up at him.

• when you turned over at him, he couldn't see anything in your eyes. nothing. all you could remember is how sad you looked.

• he laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you and kissed your shoulders.

"do you want me to stay?" He asked, brushing your hair off of your face and pulling you closer to his body.

you just nodded and laid down against the pillows as bill whispered sweet nothings in your ear and rubbed your sides with his hands.

• it was about a month into your relationship when bill realized how little you ate.

• at first, he just thought you didn't eat breakfast but over time he noticed you didn't really eat anything unless you were offered something.

• bill also took notice when all you ate was slim jims and energy drinks. Thats when he started bringing you food.

• in the mornings, he'd come in with breakfast and give you a little kiss on the forehead. "Wakey, wakey, baby." He'd say to you and place a bunch of little kisses on your face until you wake up.

"Mmm...what are you doing here?" You said to him groggily, wiping your eyes.

"I brought you breakfast. Come on, geeet up." He'd lift you up by your arms and place the food in front of you, then he'd sit down next to you and wrap his arms around you to make sure you're eating.

"I'm not hungry, Bill." You'd say to him, resting your cheek on his arm.

"Too bad, eat up." He would take your fork and cut into your waffle and place it in front of your mouth until you opened up to eat it.

You eventually would give up and just start eating.

"Why are you doing all of this? I'm just a burden, y'know?" You say to him with your mouth full and your eyes looking up at him all cute and widened.

" 'cause I like you. And I think you're cute." You rolled your eyes and continued eating but bill would have a big, fat smile on his face.

• during the day you'd be like a zombie. your eyes would be dull and half open. Big, dark circles under your eyes and you wouldn't do much. But bill didn't mind. He would lay down with you on the couch and give you massages and kisses on your temples to relax you.

• when bill found out that you hurt yourself, he kissed up and down your body for hours. Whether it was your arms or your thighs, he'd be kissing it. He told you how much he loved you and didn't want you to hurt yourself.

• he didn't want you to feel pressured about talking about your feelings but once you did he would just hold you and listen to you talk, getting everything out. and he would never judge you for anything.

• you told him that you'd stop hurting yourself and you did. for a few days. But that changed once you got away from bill for a little while and you got high at a club.

Bill wanted the best for you but you werent good for him. You knew that, you tried to change yourself for him because you loved him so much. But in the process of being with you, he got hurt too much. You tried to tell him, but he couldn't help but love you. In his eyes, you were perfect.

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7 @killed-kiss @memog1rl @80s-tingz @billybabeskaulitz @victryzvv9 @banshailey

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savventeen · 1 year ago

Text

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

#svtsource #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan fic #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #savv writes #savv fics #in my queue world

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harukamitsuki · 2 months ago

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"I'm sorry for everything I've done until now."

For a moment, there was nothing. Nothing but the pitter patter of rain striking the ground, coating his weary body, exhausted beyond belief.

Then.

"No."

Izuku watched as Kacchan's head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if this was shocking. There were no tears left for him to cry, so he settled for taking steps back.

"Y-You don't get to say that...!" he screamed, hands clutching the sides of his head. "For years, a decade, I-I put up with everything! I just watched as e-everyone kissed your feet, as if you've changed at all!"

"De- Izuku-"

"Shut up!" This wasn't fair, it wasn't! Nothing about it! Why!? "You don't get to call me that!"

Why can't anything ever go right!? For so long, he lied to everyone and to himself, pretending he was fine with Kacchan just getting everything he ever wanted. People loved him, despite his violence, despite that damn name, despite being his bully.

Iida reached out, "M-Midoriya-kun..."

He cast a forlone look towards his friend. At least he tried to talk to him more than fight or capture him. At least someone was trying to reach out to him. But then, why did he agree to let everyone come? Why did nobody think that maybe this would be a bad idea?

Why was nobody mad at Kacchan for hurting him...?

...

Oh.

"You didn't tell them, did you?" The realisation struck, and it struck hard. Kacchan- no, Bakugou's eyes widened. Confusion swept across the rest of 1-A, and Izuku knew he was right. "Go on. Tell them. Tell them what you did to me. Why you're apologising. Tell them." Silence. "Tell them!"

He marched forth, anger keeping him from collapsing.

"Tell them how you beat me black and blue! Tell them how you burnt me for the crime of existing! Tell them your advice! What was it: 'go take a swan dive off a roof and pray for a quirk in your next life'? Tell them!"

"You said what." The temperature clashed. Izuku glanced back, and there Todoroki was, cold steam billowing off one side, smoke from the other.

"No way..." Uraraka gasped, fists clenching. "You... You bastard...!" She threw herself at Bakugou, her fist colliding with his cheek. He fell to the floor, holding his reddening cheek, staring at her with wide eyes, as if it was out-of-nowhere.

Izuku looked down, teeth worrying into his bottom lip.

"Midoriya-kun." A hand clasped around his wrist, and he nearly threw the person over his shoulder. But that was Iida's voice. "... I understand that you wish to not return to U.A. Would you like to eat?"

Abruptly, he was reminded of how he rejected Toshinori. How, when his mentor reached out, he kicked off, running without a single explanation.

"..." This wasn't helping. He's just going to be too exhausted to fight back. "Y-Yeah..."

"Everyone," Iida faced the others, tired though he didn't fight much, if at all. "Please return to U.A. We shall look after Midoriya-kun."

Kaminari bristled, "B-But-!"

"Kaminari-kun." Yaoyorozu held her hand up, arm stretched in front of Kaminari. He paused, then stepped back, head low. She turned to them with a smile, "Of course, Iida-kun. Take care of him for us."

"We will," affirmed Uraraka, as she and Shouto walked to his side.

Safe. Surrounded by three of his friends, he felt safe.

It was enough for him to fall, and it was fine.

His friends were there to catch him.

#mha fanfiction #mha #anti bakugou katsuki #anti bakugou #bakugou critical #scene rewrite #i hate that apology so much #izucrew #izuku deserves better

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boolger · 7 months ago

Text

So long as I'm your favorite toy ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. The title is from Jazmin Bean's song favorite toy.

☆fem!reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley ☆ explicit. MDNI ☆ 1,655 words

☆summary: There was something wrong with Simon. You knew that, had a bad feeling whenever you were together with him, felt like he could tear you apart with his teeth whenever you saw him. Yet, here you were, once again. Together with him, with that bad feeling in your stomach, your instincts telling you to run away, telling you that he could hurt you. He sometimes did. You tried ignoring the feeling, tried not to think too much about it, about how he screamed danger. About how he used you like a toy.

☆tags: dead dove do not eat, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, stalker!Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Alternative universe, serialkiller!Simon 'Ghost' Riley or well its hinted at, BAD bdsm etiquette, bdsm, humiliation, degredation, verbal humiliation and abuse, non-con elements, squirting, car sex, semipublic, rough.

☆☆MDNI☆ Dead dove do not eat☆MDNI☆☆

extra warnings / note: This is just straight up an abusive relationship. Reach out for help at the proper resources in your country if you’re in one of these and maybe don’t read this fic. Simon doesn’t r*pe but reader does acknowledge that he probably wouldn’t stop if she asked him to. Also this is not proper and safe BDSM. Bdsm shouldn’t be like this, even if it’s cnc or free use. If you use your safeword, that should be respected and acted on. It is hinted that Simon is a serial killer, but he doesn't actually kill anyone, only mentions it.

There was something wrong with Simon. You knew that, had a bad feeling whenever you were together with him, felt like he could tear you apart with his teeth whenever you saw him. Yet, here you were, once again. Together with him, with that bad feeling in your stomach, your instincts telling you to run away, telling you that he could hurt you. He sometimes did.

You tried ignoring the feeling, tried not to think too much about it, about how he screamed danger. About how he used you like a toy.

He said it was bdsm and to a certain point you agreed. But in proper bdsm both parties respected each other, even when there was degradation involved. No matter how rude one was to the other, in a healthy bdsm relationship there would still be respect, there would still be the knowledge, respect and acceptance that if one party said stop the other would do so immediately.

… you weren’t so sure that Simon would.

Sure, you had a CNC kink, but even when that was practiced, a safeword was in place - and technically you had a safeword, but you doubted Simon would actually stop.

It was a dangerous game. Toxic. Unhealthy. You should really stop, really get out of whatever it was that you had going with him.

Yet, here you were, together with him. Again. He had texted you and you had come running like a desperate, shaking puppy, craving attention, even if it was technically the wrong kind.

Like a toy, ready to be played with.

“Fuck,” he snarled in your ear, “you’re such a fucking whore, yet your pussy is so tight all the time.”

A whimper left you, your eyes fluttering shut as you shook, his cock ruthlessly trying to bully its way deeper into your poor shaking body.

Sometimes, sometimes , he was nice afterwards, after fucking you, after using you however he wanted. His fingers running along your abused skin, littering it with kisses, muttering about keeping you for himself. His own little whore, pretty girlfriend in his house, his wife waiting for him when he got home, homemade food ready for him.

You knew he didn’t mean it. Or at least, you hoped he didn’t. The two of you never talked about it afterwards, he never mentioned wanting something else than the whole fuckbuddies thing you got on. You didn’t even know where he lived, if he actually had a house, hell, you didn’t even know what he did for a living. For all you knew, he could be a monster or a CEO, a cashier behind the counter in a supermarket or a handyman. You had no idea. You tried not to care. It wasn’t like he asked about you either… though he sometimes just seemed to know a little too much. Or he at least hinted at know.

The way it squelched as he fucked you made you dizzy, you body already hurting from the position you were in. You were in his car in the backseat, trying to pretend that you weren’t afraid you were going to get caught, your knees over his shoulders, you body bent in half, thighs almost touching your chest. You were crying - you didn’t know when you started doing so, but you couldn’t stop. Besides, Simon didn’t mind it. He just fucked you harder, making the entire car rock to his thrusts, even leaning down to lick off your tears, calling you needy, pathetic, a whore.

You had already come twice. Maybe that was why you always came back, the orgasms were fantastic and plenty. Simon might be a mean bastard but he always made you come at least 3 times every time you saw him.

“Fuuuuuuck, princess,” he moaned, one hand on your neck, squeezing a bit while the other was on the car door, giving him something to hold onto, “you’re so fucking wet - gonna squirt, huh? Squirt all over my fucking car seats? Make it - fuck - make it dirty and all wet, huh?”

You sobbed, trying to shake you head. “No no no pleased down, Simon it’ll - fuck - ah ah ah—“

“Fucking whore,” he continued, “I’ll have to get ir cleaned then, won’t I? Tell the staff how it got so dirty?”

You sobbed, only moans and wails interrupting them. You didn’t want to squirt, he would never let you hear the end of it, you already knew.

“C’mon then, lass,” he moaned, his cock hitting you even harder; it hurt, hurt so badly yet so perfectly as you cried.

“No no no - Simon - Simon - stop, I’m gonna -“ you tried begging him but it was already too late.

Despite Simon’s strength, his cock was forced out by your body as you squirted, but he merely slapped his tick member against your cunt instead, hitting your clit. He forced your body to continue, his hand moved from your throat, instead holding onto your ankle, keeping you open for him, using the other hand to tap his cock against you. It was like it kept coming, making you scream and twist in the cuffs he had forced you into earlier.

It was soaking his entire lower body and the seats, the shame worse than you had expected; you had sprayed your juices all over his thighs and it was dripping from yours too, when your body finally finished. He was moaning, somehow making that degrading and you could barely hear the words that followed, too gone.

He was on you again, forcing you into the same position, your poor, wet and puffy cunt stretched again as he filled you once more, making you squeal. Your sight was blurry and his hand was on your jaw then, grip bruising, as he forced you to look at him. You barely understood the words he said, something about fucking you dumb - but you felt the spit that then hit you cheek, splatting all over your face, making you whimper.

He continued to fuck you, as if he was some fucking machine, growling like a dangerous animal in a rut, unable to stop breeding you.

“I would kill for this pussy,” he moaned, eyes dark as he met yours, fucking grinning, a sight that made your toes curl and stomach twist, “do you want me to kill for you, huh??”

“Noo,” you whined, shaking your head, making him laugh.

“I fucking would, princess,” he growled, making you cry again. It was getting too much, everything felt overwhelming, your poor pussy almost in pain - but somehow he forced another orgasm from you. It made your entire body shake and finally, fucking finally he came with a loud, primal-like scream, filling you up with his cum.

You panted beneath him, knowing you looked like an absolute mess. Sweaty, drool running from the edge of your mouth, his spit on your face; your own juices running down your lower body and his cum would no doubt drip out the moment he pulled out.

He was softening inside you, yet he still leant down, your poor legs hurting and still bent, kissing you. He kissed like he fucked you. Dominating and controlling, forcefully yet so fucking wonderful. You moaned and gasped into his kiss, making him smile smugly. Simon pulled back, just a tad, your faces so close.

You felt a shiver run along your spine at his words, nausea appearing in your stomach.

“I meant it you know,” he whispered, all lovingly, “I would kill for you, princess.”

You let out a small sound.

“I don’t want you to,” you answered weakly, voice shaking a little. He looked cold just for a second as he replied.

“Then don’t give me a reason to.”

Simon grinned all happily then, straightening up and pulling out, cum immediately oozing out, giving your ass a hard smack, just to watch you clench and twist for a second as you wailed.

“Get dressed,” he then said, opening the car door behind him, casually stepping out all naked, “I’ll drop you off.”

He stepped to the front door then, putting on his boxers, his own clothes on the seat all neatly. Then he reached into the small cup holder in the front, picking up the key for your cuffs.

You awkwardly turned around and he moved again, opening the cuffs and your arms hurt from behind beneath you for so long. Your eyes flickered to him as you reached for your clothes. But Simon was quicker than you. Without even looking apologetic, he reached down to pick up your clothes at the car floor, rummaging through it for a second until he found your panties.

You knew not to argue.

You got dressed quickly, knowing he wasn’t always patient.

You felt his cum seeping into the fabric of your skirt as you sat down at the passenger seat next to him a minute later, hoping it wouldn’t drip onto this seat too.

Simon turned on the car, fully dressed himself, the radio automatically starting to some low rock music. He drove from the forest casually, his hand resting on your thigh whenever he wasn’t changing gears.

“Are you busy this saturday?”

You were. But he never liked it when you were.

“Only in the evening,” you answered carefully.

“Good. I’ll pick you up then.”

That was that. A little while later he dropped you off after a bruising kiss.

You stumbled into your apartment a few minutes later, body sore and dirty, discarded like a used toy that he was done playing with. You knew there was something wrong about him. The words about killing for you made you feel bad as they replayed in your mind again, as you quickly stripped, stumbling towards the shower to clean.

You should stop seeing him. Start dating. Get a partner, a good one, a loving one. Yet… yet you were going to go Saturday when he texted you. Like a good toy should.

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